It’s a story my wife, Laura, and I will never tire of telling.

It was 4:59am when we parked at Barnet Hospital. Arriving at the maternity ward, we were rushed into a side room. I did what I could vaguely recall being told I should do, like helping with breathing. Or at least I tried to, because I was a blubbering mess.

Within minutes, baby Rufus arrived. The tears stopped and I gazed adoringly and bewilderingly at him. It felt as though time had stopped – except it hadn’t, of course, not least because a midwife was furiously pointing at my watch, requesting the time…

This review appeared on the Premier Christianity blog in June 2026. To read the full piece, click here.