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  • My son had been born seven weeks early. He was in intensive care, and I visited him daily expressing my milk, so he could benefit from the antibodies, fed through a tube.

    We sat many times waiting for the results of test after test to come through.

    “Today we are checking to see if he has brain damage,” we were told. After agonising for two hours the news was relayed. "His brain is OK."

    We fell into a routine. Jacques would take our daughters to school, and buy provisions, whilst I spent as many hours as I could next to my baby’s incubator. I had read that it is important to touch him to establish a bond; and I held him letting him feel my skin against his, as much as I could.

    I thought we were doing well; keeping positive. A health visitor came to visit me just before I left the house to go and visit Demian. I put a towel over my hair, still wet from my shower and invited her in.

    She asked various questions about my recovery from the birth; then told me,

    “Just imagine, he could have died and then your husband would have left you.”

    I saw her out of my home and rushed to catch the bus, to the hospital, tears streaming down my face.

    I know according to statistics her scenario was possible; but all I wanted was some reassurance that we were coping well.
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