Was this my last cuddle?

Charlotte Parkins, 31, was certain she was about to take her final breath as she held her newborn in her arms

Using the last ounce of strength I had left, I clung on to my newborn, Freddie, as my eyes desperately searched the room for help. The emergency buzzer was out of my reach and there was no way I could pull myself to my feet. I couldn’t move, my body was burning, and I was too weak to call out to the nurses. I took one last look at Freddie and closed my eyes, believing, in that moment, that I was about to die...

My husband Michael and I had chosen the name Freddie as we strolled home arm in arm in the early hours of New Year’s Day 2013. Back then, having children was just a distant dream.

Loving being pregnant

We’d actually been babies ourselves when we met in nursery, and only became a couple in 2012 when Michael, a concreter, got back in touch through Facebook.

But when we found out we were going to become parents, in May 2018, and discovered it was a boy weeks later, there was no question about what we’d call him.

I loved being pregnant, from how it made my body feel to browsing for cute baby clothes, but my 20-week scan showed our little boy wasn’t getting the nutrients he needed. It was called placental insufficiency and meant I had to count each kick to make sure Freddie was moving. I’d have to race from my job as an English teacher to the Maternity ward for a scan if I hadn’t felt any in a while.

But, finally, on 17 January this year, Freddie was born by Caesarean, weighing 6lb 10oz. Although I was unconscious, Michael and my sister Laura, 31, were by my side throughout – and three hours later, when I came round, all my worries during pregnancy fell away as I was told I had a healthy little boy. We’d be home in no time – or so I thought.

‘Here’s Mummy,’ Michael cooed, lifting Freddie into my arms. Feeling his warmth against my chest, I’d never known a love like it.