So in January last year I found out I was pregnant with my 2nd boy. I was so nervous as my son was only 8 months when I fell pregnant. I panicked as I didn’t know how I would cope. 11.5weeks I went to the bathroom one night and noticed 2 tiny spots of blood on the toilet paper, seriously tiny. So I called triage and they arrange for a scan to be carried out a few days later. I was told by the sonographer (21.03.18) that my baby’s heart had stopped beating. It was truly one of the darkest days of my life. My husband was offshore, I was home alone with our son. I had to call him and tell him our baby was gone. I miscarried a few days later. I honestly dontthink I would’ve made it through that time if it hadn’t been for my son. He gave me a reason to get out of bed and to smile. I never told anyone how much I was hurting, not even my husband, I knew he was hurting to so I wanted to be strong. I found out I was pregnant again in July. And the next 9 months were not filled with the joy that they should have been. Every day was a panic and worry that something would go wrong, I’d loose this baby too. I was induced on 20.03.19 due to reduced movements (due date wasn’t until 27.03.19) and my beautiful baby girl arrived at 12.36 on 21.03.19. A year to the day, almost the hour, that I was told we had lost our baby. I am not a religious person but someone has sent me this sweet bundle of joy to help my heart heal