We named our daughter Serenity, it was my partners choice and it has always been the only option, we never considered any other names. I love the name Serenity and its peaceful, calm connotations.

Serenity was delivered by Caesarean, the operation was scary but it felt like I was living out of my body, I was so aware of the risks and I was so conscious of her tiny heart. It was over in about half an hour and Serenity was born on 09 July 2021, 12:20pm at 4lb 5oz. She was a lot bigger than I thought, I had comments while I was waiting for delivery ‘Are you even Pregnant?’

I didn’t get chance to hold her straight away. I saw video’s and social medial posts of after births where the moms and dads got to hold and bond with their child straight away. We never had that. I was worried she wouldn’t know who I was and would bond with the hospital staff rather than me as I couldn’t see her for a while. They took her away to the side and asked my partner to cut some of the chord. He did, but seconds later he sat right back down by my side with his face and eyes all drained of colour while a huge team of about ten doctors ran in with equipment. There were already so many doctors.

I knew what was happening, I just couldn’t process it. You always here people say that the birth of their children was the best day of their lives but mine wasn’t, I was so numb I couldn’t feel a thing.

Serenity was resuscitated and they told me they had to take her away because she was so tiny. They bought her little face up to mine and I kissed her on the nose. They took her away and I couldn’t even see her until the feeling came back in my legs so I was able to get into a Wheelchair. I waited, trying to force the feeling and movement back in my toes unsuccessfully. I had a nurse come up to my bedside trying to get me to extract breast milk out as it was ‘Liquid Gold’ to new-borns. I felt under so much pressure, like my daughters life depended on this milk but I could only get a few drops. The room was so small and it felt like a store room for a warehouse, not a hospital. I thought ‘Is this where they put the moms of the poorly babies.’

They moved my bed into a room on the Maternity Ward. I felt so alienated. The ward was split into two sections, one that was full of happy mothers and babies, and the other half where the lights were partly off and it looked like an abandoned hospital out of a ghost hunting documentary. They put me in this half. I was by myself on this half of the ward in my own room. When I walked into the corridor I could see the mothers and babies, about 4 in each room. I can’t explain the feeling of me being in there all alone and segregated like that. I remember seeing a mom I made friend’s with whilst being induced cuddled up with her baby, why wasn’t mine with me?

About 5/6 hours later I was able to move, I went down to Neonates where I met my partner sitting by the biggest machine I’d ever seen for a tiny baby. She was hooked up to a CPAP machine as she couldn’t breathe on herself, was Jaundice, she had surfactant and some other medications for her lungs and they had to be drained of a lot of fluid. She had so many wires on her. She had to have something on her head to help keep pressure on her brain, they told me that would help her breathe.

I didn’t sleep for the next few days and nights, my body just couldn’t. I just sat by her side too scared to touch her as she was so tiny and I didn’t want to mess the machines up. There was already so many alarms. I kept thinking to myself I’m not going to be able to bond with this baby. I’m going to hold her for the first time and she’s not going to have a clue who I am. The only way I could bond with her was leave little knitted squares with my scent on in the cot with her.