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

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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.