Chestnut House was our safety net when it felt like the ground was crumbling beneath our feet.

The day had finally arrived. After nine months of planning, our baby was ready to join our little family. I’d had a textbook pregnancy and all that was left was to go to Harlow Hospital to be induced. My husband Dan and I then had to play the waiting game.

I had fallen asleep, and when I woke up I was covered in blood. My placenta had ruptured. I was lucky to have been in the right place at the right time. If I hadn’t been in hospital when this happened, there’s a chance neither Matilda nor I would be here now to tell our story.

The last thing I remember was being taken into theatre. I had lost six litres of blood and was at risk of dying, as was my baby.

Matilda was starved of oxygen for 22 minutes when she was born. It took the doctors all that time to resuscitate her. Somehow they did. But they didn’t think she was going to survive. By the time she was just five hours old, Matilda was being rushed to The Rosie Hospital in Cambridge to save her life.

Dan went with our daughter while I remained in intensive care in Harlow. I was also incredibly ill. I had had another severe bleed which led to dangerous complications, to the point the doctors almost performed a hysterectomy. But the decision was made not to – purely because the doctors really didn’t think Matilda would survive and wanted to give me the chance of having another child.

I was exhausted and so confused. Everything had been planned. We should’ve all been making our way home, together. But that was a million miles away. I didn’t even know what my baby looked like.

For two days I didn’t get to see my daughter. Dan kept me updated with Matilda’s progress – but it was news every new parent dreads. We were being told to prepare for heartbreak. Because Matilda had been starved of oxygen for so long, it was unlikely she would survive.

When I was finally allowed to leave Harlow, I got to my daughter’s hospital bedside as soon as I could. On my way, there was nothing else that occupied my mind apart from my baby.

She was perfect. And I didn’t have to worry about leaving her as she fought for her life because Dan told me we’d been given a room at a place within the hospital called Chestnut House.

Chestnut House is run by The Sick Children’s Trust and without it, we wouldn’t have managed. Our baby girl had no hope of survival; we were told that she wouldn’t live. It was horrendous. Matilda had no brain activity, she’d flat-lined. The doctors told us to consider transferring Matilda to a hospice where she could spend her last days, and to think about a christening if that’s what we wanted.

When you’re expecting a baby, you think about the future. Your baby’s first night sleep in their cot, their first day at school… You think about everything. Matilda was barely three days old when we thought she was being taken away from us.

At a time like this, when it’s just too much you need to feel like you can break away. It was the worst days of our lives, and to have the support of our friends and family was incredible, but to have a space just two minutes away from our daughter’s bedside where we could go to catch our breath was what we needed. It was as if we were just at home and popping to make a cup of tea and then going back upstairs to check on Matilda and tell her that we loved her. Chestnut House gave us the much-needed escapism we yearned for and made things feel as normal as they could be.

The following day, we arranged an emergency christening for Matilda. Our family and friends dropped everything to come say their first hello and last goodbye to our baby. It was devastating, it shattered every single part of me. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

But as our friends and family gathered in Matilda’s room, something happened. Something remarkable. Matilda moved her hand. Doctors rushed in to assess her. But we knew this was Matilda telling us she was going to pull through. She wasn’t leaving her mummy and daddy.

It was a miracle. And over the following days we couldn’t believe what we were seeing. It was as if hour by hour she was coming back to life – the doctors were simply astounded. We were told how lucky we were, how the chances of this happening were slim to none and how our daughter was ‘Miracle Matilda’. And within no time at all she became so strong that we were talking about going home! Something we never, ever thought we would get to this stage.

Within a month we were packing our belongings and getting ready to go back to Harlow Hospital for a short time before she was discharged. It was a strange feeling. Chestnut House had really become our home. It was our safety net when it felt like the ground was crumbling beneath our feet, when everything was completely out of our control. We weren’t just leaving a place that had given us a roof over our heads, we were saying goodbye to a team of people who had been a shoulder to cry on, been there for us so we could be there for Matilda. And we were leaving many families we had grown close to by sharing our story with them. We were leaving many friends behind.

But as Matilda had passed many milestones, we have never forgotten The Sick Children’s Trust, those families we shared Chestnut House with and the wonderful medical team that saved our daughter’s life. Matilda has just passed her six month review with flying colours! We never get too ahead of ourselves, we know she’s not out the woods yet and there may be health problems which emerge later. But at the end of the day, Matilda shouldn’t even be alive. She defied the odds and proved everyone wrong. She is here with us, and we could never be more thankful for that.

Recently, we finally got to celebrate Matilda’s life at a blessing with all our families and friends. Her actual christening was so sad – it was a goodbye – so we wanted a happy, positive occasion to remember. And we can’t be happier that we’ve been given the chance to replace that harrowing memory with something so positive.