I was 36-weeks pregnant with a boy, all my scans showed he was healthy. When he wasn't kicking as much, and I was having early contractions, I thought something was wrong.

I rang my local hospital but they said not to worry and to ring back when contractions were 3 mins apart. I looked online, as I still had a bad feeling, and found Kicks Count. After reading all about it, I knew then something really wasn't right, so rang the hospital again and told them he is only moving when I have a contraction, and something really doesn't feel right. They told me to come in and they'll have a look.

Once they put me on the machines they realised his heart was beating too fast, so off I went for an emergency c-section. I didn't think much of it as I thought 36 weeks was decent and he's probably just stressed because of the early labour. I had to be put to sleep. When I woke up I was expecting to see my partner holding my son but, instead, I woke up to my partner and a nurse telling me that my son was in NICU as he wasn't breathing when he was born.

I demanded they take me to him. Once I'd seen him I couldn't believe it, he was on a life support machine and the doctors didn't know what was wrong with him. Four hours later he was going downhill fast. I had the decision to make: to either take him off life support and let him pass in my arms, or to keep him on the machine and he would eventually pass. I thought my first and final role as a mother for him was to let him pass in my arms full of love.

Four minutes later he was gone and for months I was in limbo as to how this all happened. We got the results that his death was caused by a rare condition of a blood clot in the placenta. If I was to get pregnant again one aspirin tablet a day could prevent it.

Nine months after the passing of our son, Alex, I found out I was pregnant again. Scared and nervous, I was scanned every week. I slowly realised that this was going OK and that this baby might be fine.

32-weeks along with my rainbow son and I was admitted into hospital as they didn't think he was growing. I was given steroid injections and the next day re-scanned to find out that he had grown and I could go home. Two weeks later I had a midwife told me to go to the hospital, as my liver levels were too high, and to bring my hospital bags with me.

I got there to be told I was having him that day and did I want to go up to the NICU as he probably would be in the same place my son Alex passed away. I refused to see it because I refused to know that this was happening all over again. Thsi time I was awake for the section, so scared, but there he was, 4lbs 14oz and not one thing wrong with him. He didn't need to go to NICU and was home with me three days later.

My precious tiny little baby is now 18 months old, full of life and beating all odds. He is such a clever little boy and, although he is a bit small for his age, he is full of love. He saved me and my partner when we needed it the most and couldn't imagine life without him. He really is the rainbow after our storm. We talk to him about his big brother in heaven and recently my mum and dad got the council to approve a garden of reflection for our local city. One of the benches has babies names who have passed away, so Tyler can go up and see his big brothers name. He will always know how loved and wanted they both are. I really feel that my son Alex gave us Tyler as he really is the best boy who is full of compassion.