We’d decided early on in my wife’s pregnancy that we would need somewhere bigger to accommodate the new baby, our 18-month-old son Alfie, and Basil, the cat.

In due course, we were persuaded to view an ugly duckling house. Horrible looking from the outside and overgrown with weeds, inside it was even worse: dirty with a confusing layout, it had an overpowering smell that hit you as you walked in. The back garden was a neglected jungle. My wife and I agreed that there was no way this could be our future home.

But then we noticed that Alfie was running around the house giggling. It reminded me of a Chinese couple I had sold a property to years before, who insisted on visiting the house with a friend’s baby. If the baby was content, they said, it would show the house to be a happy home, but if the baby cried they would retract their offer. Fortunately, the baby remained good humoured and the sale went ahead.

So based on Alfie’s reaction, and despite a difficult vendor and some erratic hormones, we bought the horrible house. On the very day it became ours, Ted, our trusty builder, started ripping it apart and in just nine weeks we had transformed the ugly duckling into a home that we all felt comfortable in.

So comfortable, in fact, that my wife Kate decided to have a home birth. That once dirty, totally unhygienic house would be taking on the role of birthing suite. As if by clockwork, she went into labour the morning before her due date. I spent several hours filling a home-birthing pool in our new immaculate kitchen, boiling the kettle over and over again to maintain optimal temperature. But while I was oblivious to our surroundings, house-proud Kate was not: the midwife’s audacious suggestion that we use our new Cath Kidston tea towels in the proceedings provoked quite an outburst.

At around 3am Maisy was born. She barely cried, just looked around at her new surroundings with her beautiful huge eyes.

Four years have passed and our home has watched our children grow to the point where we may now be too big for it. But if we move we’ll we’d not only be leaving the house that we rescued, but where Maisy first opened her eyes. It will be very difficult to leave the home in which we shared such a life-changing moment.

JC, Thames Ditton

Further information

What makes a house a home and why does it matter so much? Our new series, 'Moving Stories', inspired by Savills new advertising campaign, explores the complex relationship between home and home-owner with funny, sad and bittersweet reflections on moving out, moving in and moving on.

We invite you to submit your own Moving Stories and we will donate £50 to Dreams Come True for every one we publish on Savills UK Blog. We'll also make a donation for every story submitted for consideration.