Growing up surrounded by beautiful women, I've always felt a tad self-conscious about my looks. Seeing Claudia Schiffer sashay down the catwalk for one of my mother's shows in the nineties gave me a complex about not having blonde hair. I didn't have the full lips of Christy Turlington, either. And let's not even go there with Karen Mulder's bone structure! How is it possible to be that beautiful?

That's exactly the thought that runs through my mind now, more than twenty years on. In that time, I had grown out of the idea that I needed to be exactly like those women that I used to look up to but now, as I prepared to hit Paris Fashion Week for my mother's show, I wasn't so sure. Those old insecurities were flooding back and it was all because the dress that she had left out for me to wear was clinging to my stomach area. 

To the unsuspecting eye, there was absolutely nothing wrong with how the dress fit. I was still in the first trimester of my pregnancy and apart from experiencing a little bloatedness, my stomach was practically flat. There was absolutely no reason for me to be stood in front of the mirror, frowning at my reflection. 

"I still can't go," I whined, much to Sam's frustration. When Mum insisted that I come to Paris to support her with her latest Fashion Week offering, I blackmailed Sam into coming with me, although it didn't take that much to get him to agree. Now, however, I'm sure he's regretting his decision to join me. He arched an eyebrow at me questioningly. "Look at me!"

"Right. And?" He responded, clearly still not understanding the problem. "Why can't you go?"

"Because!" I practically yelled. 

Sam gasped dramatically, his hands flying to his cheeks as he gave me a wide-eyed look. "Not Because!" He began to flap around in a panic in what can only be described as an Oscar-worthy performance. I couldn't help but roll my eyes as he gathered pointless objects in his arms and muttered to himself. "If it's Because then the world as we know it is going to end. No, this cannot be happening. Because! Do you think they have immunisations for that? Charlotte, help me pack. We are now survivalists. Because is coming to kill us all!"

I flipped my middle finger at him and quickly pulled at the side zip of the dress, instantly relaxing when I felt the fabric loosen. Sighing at my predicament, I shouted out both of my sisters' names and quickly went to inspect what they were to wear for the fashion show. We were staying at my parent's apartment in Paris, and Sophie and Emma were here with their husbands. Ambling down one of the hallways, I ran into Sophie. She was still in her bathrobe and had her hair wrapped up in a towel, not a stitch of makeup on her face.

"I need to see what you're wearing," I tell her. Grabbing her by the arm, I drag her back to the bedroom that she occupies. Sophie fumbles around for a while but then produces a little black dress that would look absolutely beautiful on her. "I hate you."

Emma was no better. Being almost as fashion conscious as Sophie, Emma was also going to be wearing a very fitted dress that clung to her to-die-for figure. Sensing that I was almost on the verge of tears, I gave up wanting to swap my dress for Sophie and Emma's and plopped down on the nearest sofa. In recent days, the morning sickness had eased up but had been replaced with exhaustion, meaning that I needed to sit down more often.  

"Ok, so," I heard Sam's voice echoing in the hallway before his annoying face came into view. "I've found you a dress to wear. From the label, I can tell you that it's definitely one of your mum's creations. Now, get up. I've prevented us from certain doom by eradicating Because- for which, may I add, I deserve a Nobel Prize- so it's time to stop feeling sorry for yourself and time to get dressed."

To my horror, the dress Sam had got his hands on was perfect. Fitted around my chest area, the material floated out from my waist as the textured skirt provided the perfect coverage for my barely existent baby bump. Seeing as the weather hadn't perked up enough in London, the flattering emerald colour didn't make my pale skin look washed out while the gold thread and bead detail added a feminine quality that left me looking at it in awe. 

Busying myself with fixing my hair and applying makeup that would complement the dress, I didn't bother to look at my phone until it was almost time for us to leave the apartment. The fashion show was being held in an unassuming art gallery and was surely going to attract everyone who is anyone in the fashion world. Rumour had it that Anna Wintour herself would be gracing us with her presence, although that hardly mattered to me. To Sophie, however, it was everything. It wasn't a surprise, then, to see her micro-managing our departure from the apartment. Barking orders at us all, she made sure that we all looked perfect, didn't have a hair out of place and there was no lipstick stuck to our teeth. Only after passing Sophie's inspection were we allowed to leave. 

"Oh, Jesus Christ, who invited you?" Sophie sassed as soon as she opened the door of the apartment. Having hung back after receiving a stern stare from my sister, I craned my neck to try and see who Sophie was annoyed with but with my brother-in-law, Daniel, hovering in front of me, I couldn't be sure. "You can't be here. We're on our way out."

"Please, I just need to see Charlotte." 

The voice was overwhelmingly familiar and hearing it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. I'd wanted to hear from Isaac since the moment he ran out on me but right now wasn't the time for him to make a reappearance if Sophie's irritated glare was anything to go by. Still, I found myself nodding, granting permission for Isaac to speak to me while Sam quickly ushered everyone out the door. 

"We'll see her later," he assured a snappy Sophie. "Call me if you need anything, Char."

I tried to formulate some words to show that I had heard him but all sounds became stuck in my throat as soon as the crowd parted and I was left face-to-face with Isaac Fletcher. For someone who always looked as if he could front a fashion campaign, Isaac had dark circles under his eyes and grizzly stubble covering his chin and cheeks. His blue eyes looked exhausted and his sagged shoulders made it seem as if he were about to collapse. He appeared as far removed from his usual self as possible.

"Are you ok?" I asked. I couldn't help but step forward and reach for Isaac. My concern was quickly brushed away with a quick hand gesture of dismissal as Isaac slipped through the apartment door and promptly closed it behind him. His actions made the blood in my veins boil and I couldn't stop the hurt registering in my voice. "Why are you here? Now?"

"I'll answer you questions just as soon as you answer mine," he sighed. Rubbing a hand over his stubble, Isaac wearily looked across to me, a pleading look held in his eyes. "The baby you're carrying- is it mine?"

I should have been angered by his question; furious that he would think that I had slept with someone else. But Isaac wasn't accusing me at all. If anything, he was begging me to confirm his suspicion. So I did. I nodded my head and said, "Yes, of course, it's yours."

"Right," Isaac spoke as he processes the news. Turning away from me, he wandered into the living room and threw himself down on the nearest seat, dropping his head into his hands. Once he'd taken a few minutes to himself, Isaac reached into his coat pocket and produced an envelope that he set down on the coffee table. "This is for you."

Panic rose in my chest as I stared at the envelope, wondering what was inside. This whole situation was so extraordinary that I simply couldn't comprehend what was going on. Why would Isaac suddenly turn up now, weeks after he found out about my pregnancy, in Paris, just to present me with an envelope? 

"What is it?" Curiosity got the better of me as I slowly made my way over to the couch opposite Isaac and picked up the white stationary. I toyed with it between my fingers as I heard Isaac answer my question with the words, 'It's a cheque.' My eyes flickered to his. "A cheques? For what? An abortion? Well, if that's the case, you can have the money back. It's my baby and I'm keeping him!"

To say that I was fuming over his suggestion would be an injustice to how I felt as I flung the envelope back in Isaac's face. Of all the people that I thought would go down this route, I would have put Isaac at the bottom of the list but I suppose this just went to show where he stood compared to where I stood. Plus, in the past two weeks, I'd come to terms with the fact that I'd be a single mum so this really didn't unnerve me but I kept thinking about the fact that my child's father would have turned his back on him. How can someone be that cruel?

"I'm glad to hear that," Isaac's words took me by surprise. Especially when I heard the ferocity within them. "Just so we get this right, it's our baby, not just yours. Mine and yours mean that it's ours. And you don't know it's a boy, yet. It's too early to tell. That cheque is so that we can go and open up a trust fund for when he or she decides to go to university, or get married, or buy a house. You know, milestones that I want to be there for."

I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. Instead, I cried. Maybe it was the baby hormones or maybe it was due to the overwhelming feeling that Isaac wasn't turning his back on us. Perhaps it was a combination of both. Whatever the reason, once the floodgates opened, there was no going back. 

Isaac and I were having a baby. Together. And he was going to be here to help me. I'd spent so long thinking the worst of him and jumping to conclusions that I was absolutely feeling ashamed of myself. The tears came thick and fast as I realised that a lot of the pain I'd put myself through since that one night with Isaac had been self-inflicted. He'd always told me that I thought the worst of him, that I never gave him a chance, that he'd surprise me and it was true. 

Now was the time to change all of that. 

"I am so beyond sorry," I admitted once the tears subsided. Not daring to look up at Isaac, I kept my gaze fixed on the family photos that littered the mantelpiece. "Thank you."

"For?"

"Being here?" With a shrug of my shoulder, I finally let my eyes meet Isaac's blue gaze. They were no longer clouded over with exhaustion. Instead, they sparkled with anticipation. Then he smiled that boyish smile of his, the one that made me melt. "Just because you're here, it doesn't mean that you and I are going to be a thing. We'll co-parent and that's it."

His smile widened in amusement. "Did you hear me say otherwise?" A beat passed, in which Isaac enjoyed watching me squirm, and then he laughed as he shook his head lazily. "Ok, so you're about eight to ten weeks pregnant. Did you have the blood test for sickle cell and thalassaemia yet? Have you met your midwife? Are you stocked up with all your folic acid and various vitamins? Did you already have the booking appointment because you'll need my medical history for that? Did you have any ultrasound photos yet? If you have a spare, I'd love to have one to keep."

I blinked. "What the fudge? How do you know all that stuff about pregnancy? Are you like a father of a million kids already or what?"

"Not a million, exactly," Isaac laughs, his shoulders bobbing up and down as his chortle rumbles from deep in his chest. "I'm a doctor, Lottie. I work at Great Ormond Street Hospital so I'm surrounded by kids daily. Bet you didn't know that about me, huh? Well, sit back and relax because you and I have seven months to get to know each other. Now, my favourite movie is- and please don't laugh when you hear this- Toy Story."

 Ok, so oupsididntmeanit nailed it! Isaac is a paediatrician, of sorts. He's actually a Consultant in the PICU/NICU (Paediatric and Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) at GOSH. He was always going to be a doctor and if you've ever seen any photos of Chris Hemsworth with kids, you'll know why Isaac had to work in that environment. If you haven't seen any pictures, here's one...

I also asked you a few other questions but I'm not giving you the answers until they're discussed in the updates. 

Up to now, Charlotte has kinda annoyed me in that she's forever jumping to conclusions about Isaac. Yeah, he didn't exactly act in the best way but c'mon! He just found out his one-night stand is having his baby so I can forgive him. I can also forgive Charlotte because at least from here on out, she's going to have to work with Isaac as they prep for the baby. 

I hope you all have an awesome week!

Sarah, xx