I found out I was pregnant at 24+6. I hadn't planned a child, not with a long distance relationship with someone in the forces. I remember leaving that room and ringing my best friend in tears. I couldn't be a mum. When it finally sunk in, I couldn't of been happier and throughout the rest of the pregnancy, the father was amazing.

Weeks down the line, I went into labour. A beautiful little girl, Aria. weighing in at 7 pounds 8. I never laid my eyes on anything more perfect. After being told we'd be going home soon, she was rushed to neonatal unit. Started off as jaundice, no big deal. Then her breathing sped up and along came other issues. Sepsis. I couldn't feed her, I couldn't cuddle her.

Then my lungs collapsed, I lost 70% of my lungs. I had sepsis too. the whole 4 days of her short life were a blur to the point it doesn't feel real. And then the time comes - say your goodbyes, she won't make it.

A few hours later, the father was told the same about me, he was about to lose the mother of his child as well.

For about 1-2 weeks, her body didn't leave my side.

3 years on, I'm ready to tell my story. 3 years on, with post natal depression along with PTSD. I'm struggling still.

I can't wait to close my eyes and see her again.