Holding Kirsty’s hand, I looked into her eyes. ‘Are you really OK?’ I asked. As tears began to fall, I pulled her in for a hug. ‘It’s OK, I’ve got you,’ I said.
It was June 2020, and my daughter Kirsty had suffered a miscarriage at seven weeks. We’d always been close and, although she tried to put on a brave face, I knew my daughter was hurting.
In time, Kirsty, 32, fell pregnant again with a little girl. At 40 weeks, I received a call. ‘I’m in labour, we’re on our way to the hospital,’ said Kirsty.
Only, at midnight, her husband, Nick called me. ‘Michelle, Kirsty needs an emergency C-section,’ he said. The baby was in the posterior position and, as they were positioned spine to spine, it…
