Imagine your second night as a parent, how you watch your tiny bundle snuggled down sleeping. Their rosy cheeks and cute little noses only a few feet away. Now imagine mine, being woken at one in the morning by a strange midwife who tells me my 15 week premature baby is losing her grip on life and I needed to get to the neonatal unit immediately. I am told she is deteriorating quickly and they don’t know how long she has left. Carl has to drive in a panic to the hospital to meet us. Intensive care is a big room full of beeping monitors, occupied incubators and doctors and nurses hard at work. Yet the silence of the room fell heavy on our shoulders as everyone listens to what we are going to say to this tiny little life. She is too poorly to be held or taken out of the incubator; what would you say?

Orlaith, by the words of the consultant, miraculously made the night, however things didn’t get any easier. Now jump ahead to your child’s first immunisations, how guilty you feel watching tiny tears well in their eyes, you spend the rest of the day cuddling them and kissing their tears away. Now think of Orlaiths DAILY injections, sometimes several, we can’t comfort or hold her as she’s still too poorly but her tiny hand grips tightly round our fingers. Orlaith received over 10 blood transfusions which ran through one of many cannulas she had to keep her going. She spent 7 weeks on a ventilator that helped her breath and kept her alive. My first cuddle with Orlaith was at 7 weeks old, her ventilation tube was taped to my chest and her wires made my skin red raw but it was perfect. Carl had to wait another week.

Orlaith was barely six weeks old and only a couple of ounces over the minimum weight when she went for her first operation. We were sent to Southampton where she received an operation to cut a duct that flowed from her heart to her lungs. Orlaith also had two lots of laser eye surgery to save her vision. Eight and a half months of sleepless nights, constant tears, frustrations and sometimes happiness, Orlaith was allowed home. She spent a further year on home oxygen, we had weekly appointments, hospital visits, sleep studies and even diet diaries. Our 14oz little baby girl is now a thriving, confident three year old who has an enormous character and the drive to do anything she wants.

We couldn’t possibly write about everything Orlaith went through, but what is obvious is that without the help of The Trevor Mann Baby Unit and The Alex, Orlaith definitely wouldn’t be here. When you’re expecting a baby the neonatal unit is not something you even consider, however it’s likely someone you know will have needed that speciality care whether it was a few hours, days or months.We have made friends for life with other parents of other poorly babies and its their support and encouragement that helps you through some of the toughest days. It is likely that we will need the care of the neonatal unit again if we were to have another baby, and I want to know that they will have the top equipment and training in order to help my family and so would you. Even a small amount, a few pounds will support babies and children through their time in hospital, it could be anything from lifesaving equipment to toys and crafts to entertain them. We have supported others through their marathons, sponsored walks, boxing matches or even cake sales, so please help to support our cause.