At 23 weeks and 6 days I went into labour and gave birth to my beautifully formed little boy.

He made a few murmuring sounds and movements and I thought for the briefest of moment that there was hope for my baby only to be told he was under the viable age and I had miscarried.

My head was spinning how had I miscarried, my baby was in my arms and he past away within minutes. I was then given pethidine for pain as I had to continue to push the placenta and he was taken from me.

I got to see him for 1/2 an hour the next day and given a Polaroid photo and his hand and foot prints and discharged.

This was 1998 and I know now this wouldn’t happen now through the help of charities Sands and any signs of life would be acted upon. I have gone on to miscarry pre-16 weeks 7 times and then finally in 2007 had my rainbow baby, a girl but all the way through that pregnancy my son was still called a miscarriage and even no w that hurts so much, it is like people just want to use that term because it’s convenient.

My miscarriages were painful and those were my babies but to this day he was not a miscarriage my son died in my arms don’t sweep him under the carpet because I never will. He did get a burial but not a birth or death certificate, so technically never existed but he did to me and I will never forget those fleeting moments that I was able to hold my son.