I was happy. I had Ryan and Dave, a nice life. Then I got pregnant, excitement, hope, love. I kept imagining the little life inside me and dared to have no fear this time! This pregnancy would be good, this baby was loved already. I Felt tired and sick constantly, but told myself and anyone who would listen that this must be good, it must be because I am older this time, it must be because any reason I could think of. It will be fine, this baby is loved and wanted.

Scans: 20 week scan, excitement, then dread. Things aren’t right, my baby isn’t the right size. “Come sit in this room and be talked to” Consultant says small baby should be ok. Feeling of dread, fear, I’m told there’s no need to worry, everything will be ok, hoping to feel movement but nothing, maybe a wiggle? Another scan, hospital again, scan, the hospital is like a conveyor belt. I’m trying to keep my family positive. Baby will be born early, but that’s ok! They’ll be 500g but it will be ok, this baby will live.

All comes crashing down, we are told our baby has a genetic problem and will die or will be born with disabilities. I don’t care about disabilities, I want to save my baby, let her live, please, please, please. We’re booked for an induction (sign here so the hospital knows what to do with the baby’s body, but she’s not dead she’s inside me, alive). Labour starts, she doesn’t want to be born, mothers instinct, desperation, please save my baby, c-section, please try, weight could be wrong, could be a miracle, baby will die major surgery pain, fear.



My baby is born perfect, beautiful, alive. So, so small. I give her to Dave to let him hold her first, then she dies in my hands. She’s perfect, no genetic problem, just too small to survive. Did I do the right thing? Should I have let her slowly starve inside me? She might have lived.

I tell Ryan, utter heartbreak pain, numbness, more pain, people don’t know what to do or say. I’m in a daze, wanting to die, wanting my baby. I nearly drown myself but don’t.

Life moves on, people move on, no one comes and says are you ok? No one realises or knows how we three feel, like we’ve survived this together, but no acknowledgement of our loss just uncomfortable looks.

Desperate need to get pregnant. Get pregnant miscarriage. Never again.

Emma Crawford, in loving memory of Sapphire, born 31/7/2014 lived for 31 minutes.