The last time i remember Ada kicking me was sometime in the night on Thursday 6 September 2007. I dont remember clearly, but seem to recall waking up a couple of times and getting booted, as you do. In the morning i had a standard midwife appointment booked and i got up as normal and went. She asked me as she always does if baby was moving well and i replied that she was, although i hadnt felt her that morning, but i wasnt worried because that’s normal. She’s not a morning person, like her mum, i said. The midwife laid me down and tried to find the heartbeat with the doppler and couldnt. I still wasnt too worried because i know that we’ve had problems trying to find it in the past and she advised the hospital that i would be going through for a scan to check all was well. I just forced myself not to think about it too much, even though it was all i could think about! At the hospital they brought in the ultrasound machine and checked me over. After a very long couple of minutes the technician said “I’m sorry but i cannot find this baby’s heartbeat” incredibly i said “You’re kidding?” like i half expected her to laugh and say “Yeah, funny arent i!” God how much do i wish she was that much of an evil bastard. I think i just said “Not again!” and collapsed onto Mum who’d gone with me. Mum asked if there was anything they could do to check and they told us no, they were certain.

After a consultation with the doctor who would be performing the c-section i was worried because she told me that usually they have to do a vertical incision and after my research after the last c-section, i knew this wasnt good news. Then she went on to explain that the surgery was going to be extra complicated because the placenta was so low and would make it difficult to stem to bleeding. She told me that if they couldnt stop the bleeding they may have to perform a hysterectomy to stop it and save me. I have never had a real fear for my own life until then. I know they have to cover all options, but i was terrified. Luckily the surgery went well. I have a neat horizontal incision and still have my womb in place. Mum said that the doctor was so genuinely pleased that she’d managed to do it that way. I am so grateful to her for her skill. I owe her so much!

When i woke up i was in the same room i woke up in after Zane was born. Talk about deja vous! We saw Ada pretty soon after i woke up and came around and i was pretty much in a morphine daze, but i remember thinking she was beautiful. I know that she was small and red and everything, but she just looked like a miniature baby. That sounds completely silly because she was a miniature baby, but i know what i mean. Unfortunately i had the benefit of learning from experience and i made sure i took far more photographs than what i took of Zane. Even so, i dont have enough. As if any amount of photographs are a fair substitute for a daughters life.

We picked the name Ada just the week before we lost her because it means ‘Happy’ and this was significant to us. She was our happiness at a time that was so unbearably bleak and hopeless.

We ordered a full post mortem and genetic testing. The results showed that she was developing normally and perfect in every way. The only thing they found was something in her lungs to indicate sudden asphyxiation. The placenta was fine and there were no signs of an abruption. The cord was also fine. We don't know what caused the sudden lack of oxygen.

Just another case of landing phenomenally slim odds. Incredible.