So it was July 2014 I find out I was pregnant. My fiancé and I were shocked but delighted, I was 16 and obviously very scared but it's what I'd always wanted, to be a mother. I had an amazing pregnancy, everything was normal until I told my midwife I only felt him kick at 34 weeks which she thought was odd but we carried on. On Thursday19th February I phoned 111 for reduced movements as normally my little boy would kick around after a yoghurt and blackjack sweets for pudding, they said to come in if I was worried (I had absolutely no way of getting to hospital, family were 2 hours away, had no money for a taxi) so I left it till the morning when my fiancé and I could do something. They monitored me for 45 minutes and sent me home with everything normal. Then on the Saturday my waters broke and we went into hospital, the sonographer was having trouble with the first scan so sent us to a different room where a senior would check, there was about 10 people in the room at the time and I could tell something was wrong, then she looked at me and said: "I'm sorry Natasha but there's no heartbeat". My body went numb, all I can remember is screaming and hugging my stomach hoping things would change. I was so confused. Everything I had been hoping for, preparing for and longing for just ripped away from me, within three days. Then it all started, it felt like hours and hours of pain, hearing other women screaming but a different pain, a pain that would be worth it. Then the scream of their little babies entering the world whilst my little boy still would, but he couldn't stay unlike the others. I left that room, despising every woman I saw, filled with so much anger and jealousy. Why me? Why us? Why our little boy? What had I done wrong? Was it this or that? Could or should I have done this instead? All of these women leaving the hospital with their car seats with their little babies inside, to go home to a bundle of joy, yet we had to leave with nothing but a memory book, to an empty, quiet house. So many questions, yet so little answers.

4:01am on Sunday 22nd of February my handsome boy was born, weighing 5lbs 7oz. I couldn't bring myself to hold him or see him, and I tell you now it is my biggest regret. I now have a 5 week old son, Henry, but I still long to hold my first born son, just that one cuddle. It never gets easier, it really doesn't, and you just get used to it.

No one around me mentions his name, and I know it's because they don't want to hurt me or bring up such a traumatic time for us. But every day I wish someone would ask, anything. I just want to talk about my first born son, who does still exist just sadly can't be with us. I still miss him so bloody much every day, it isn't any easier losing him now I have my second son. The grieving is still there every day, you just get used to hiding it.

I love you so much my darling Leo, mummy will never forget you or the times we had together. Rest in peace my sweet angel, we'll visit you soon I promise.