My husband and I had decided to have another baby with the other two we had. This was just before Christmas. I remember taking my temperature and telling my husband the "day" would be the 8th of January. Indeed it was, and I waited a couple of weeks before doing a pregnancy test at my doctor’s. I remember having mixed feelings, like I should be happy but I was only half happy. It was like something wasn’t right, even then but I didn’t realise it.

I was really excited to have the 18-week scan done. I guess our main concern was to decide whether or not we should ask the sex of the baby. Today, I realise that no scan will ever be the same but once again, another thing I couldn’t have known then. I had three different doctors looking at the baby, and I assumed they were really not good at working their machines. It never occurred to me that MY baby could be sick. No, not my baby, I was a healthy 25 year old with two previous and perfect pregnancies, how could ANYTHING be wrong with my baby?

I remember sitting in a small office wondering what kind of problems my baby could have? An extra finger? Downs syndrome? What kind of operation will she need? The doctor was really sorry and announced that my baby had some kidney disease and would die at birth, if she even survived until then. Then, I don’t really remember what happened. I know I saw at least three doctors who all told me different things and was given many choices but I left knowing I had to come back the next day to see a genetic counsellor and discuss terminations.

The next night was endless. Nobody could understand what the big "fuss" was about. "It was only a foetus; an abortion was the best thing to do for all of us. We could try again; we had other children" I was devastated. My baby was alive and I loved her, I couldn’t contemplate having an abortion, just because some doctors I had never met thought she had a kidney disease.

We decided to go on with the pregnancy.

The pregnancy was happy enough. We told our children that the baby was sick, that her body was broken but that her spirit was really happy and special and that she would go and live with Jesus. They seemed content with that. I had scans and different things every couple of weeks. I had been warned that the baby would be fine until 30 weeks and that it might be a little more complicated then, as she was breech and had no fluid around her at all. I still cherished every second of her being inside me. My husband and I, as active Christians, had decided to accept whatever was coming. We had faith that all was planned and that we would all be reunited one day, if she died.

The last time I went to the hospital, I understood that the birth would be complicated due to the baby’s position, lack of water etc and that she might be stillborn, I might have a caesarean, or that the birth would not be "easy". Still, I was fine about it. i guess I was really tired by then. Tired of the mental anguish, the physical pains, tired of the anticipation (such as organising the funeral of a live baby).

On Friday the 9th of August, I started having contractions every 15 minutes. I went to see a local doctor the next day and I was told not to worry, that the pains were linked to the complications of the pregnancy rather than labour. I went home and waited until Monday night without saying much. After all, I wasn’t in labour!! Monday night was horrible. I went through every contractions wondering what I could do to help the pains, and I started thinking that I had a torn muscle or a broken bone in my pelvis. By Tuesday 13th early morning, I had decided that labour or not labour, I was going to the hospital that day. My husband still left for work as we were so convinced that this doctor knew and that the baby wasn’t coming for another 4 weeks. I remember sitting on my computer chair feeling really frustrated, I couldn’t figure out why I was in so much pain, and why I felt like pushing (today, I don’t blame anyone for wondering if I am "normal". I myself can’t understand how I did not guess after having had two other babies.)

Anyway, 10 minutes later, Talina was born in my bathroom. She was born between my two other children asking for breakfast, in a breech position. It was the most memorable moment of my life. I delivered my baby myself. I feel so much love when I think about this magical moment. I wrapped her in a towel and called my mother who came right away. I delivered the placenta and wrapped it in another towel. Talina lived for an hour before she fell asleep in my arms. She didn’t look in pain, she looked peaceful.

She spent the next 48 hours at home with her family; we had organised to take her home previously. The following two days, my husband and I visited her before she was given a great party on the 16th of August with big helium balloons that got released for her.

If anything, even though she had already died, that week was a miracle. It was one of the happiest moments of our lives. We were holding our baby, our precious daughter in our arms, she was home with her family, and she slept in our bed. We were happy, a complete family.

On Friday night, everybody made comments like "it’s over now"; and "you can move on" but really it’s when the nightmare started. She was gone! Suddenly it hit me, she had died 5 days earlier but to me she had just left that second. I realised her body had been squashed into a box and I had let that happen. The next few days were just as bad. I guess any parent who has lost a child will relate. Between uncontrollable tears, through to trying to grasp some air, I watched a piece of me die forever.

It’s been 5 weeks since her birth and death. We have done all we could to keep her memories alive. We took 250 photos, got a professional sketch done, professional photos done, kept everything that touched her, reminded us of her, I got a necklace, those you can separate and she was buried with one half of the heart and I have the other one on me. I am amazed at how many other parents can understand. I thought I was the only one feeling like I wanted to die, and I still do sometimes. I guess it’s only been weeks. Even though the pain is unbearable right now, I would do it again. I would live through every second just to hold her again one extra minute. I know that families can be together forever. The time will come when we will be reunited again, and this day will be as magic as the day she was born.