When my first child, Alicia was born in January 1998 I was overjoyed, then in August 1999 my son, Callum, was born asleep. My lives fell apart, I couldn't believe that I would ever be happy again.

I was to be proved wrong, in November 2000 I found out that I was pregnant again, all of a sudden I panicked, the test read positive but what if I lost this baby too? I couldn't handle losing a second child, I was still having trouble coming to terms with Callum being sent to Heaven, but here I was pregnant and I knew that I had to protect this baby with every ounce of strength that I had in me.
The pregnancy pregressed well, I had a few small episodes of bleeding but they turned out to be nothing, I was going to the hospital every two weeks for a scan and a checkup and the baby was asolutely fine. I started getting more scared again and the pregnancy progressed towards 28 weeks (the stage of the pregnancy that Callum was born) but I sailed through it and I remember one day around that time thinking to myself, 'that's it, I'm safe now' and I knew that this baby was going to be born safe and sound into this world.
I was right, on 17th July 2001 (5 weeks premature) my waters broke at 10.20pm, Kevyn and I rushed to the hospital and at 11.21pm (just an hour after labour started) Conor Michael John Hurst was born into this world healthly and happy weighing 6lb 3oz. Suddenly life seemed worth living again, having Conor would never take away the heartache of losing Callum but it certainly helped, we felt like a family, the family we longed to be for such a long time.
Conor and I were kept in hospital for a few days as he was premature and then we came home. Bringing a baby home was something I'd ached to do for so long and here I was doing it, but I was so scared, scared I wasn't going to remember what to do but most of all scared something was going to go wrong.
As the weeks passed I relaxed and Conor grew into a really happy baby.
Christmas came and went and we had a fantastic time and although Conor didn't really know what was going on he enjoyed all the attention then on Thursday 27th December we put Conor down for his regular afternoon nap at 4.50pm. We were at my Dad's house and decided at 6.00pm that we would go home so Kevyn went in to put Conor's coat on while I tidied up (we had been playing snakes and ladders) and the next thing I knew my husband was screaming my name.
I don't remember getting to the bedroom but I remember going through the door and seeing Kevyn with a lifeless Conor in his arms, all I remember is screaming,'oh God no, not again.'
Kevyn called the ambulance while I did CPR, I instictively knew what to do, the ambulance seemed to take forever to get there and when it did Conor and I were rushed to the hospital, I talked to him he whole way, 'Please don't leave me, Conor', 'Mummy loves you'. But nothing I did could help, Conor was pronounced dead a little after 6.30pm.
My whole life stopped. Kevyn's parents were at the hospital by this time and I remember carrying Conor into a little room where they were waiting with my Dad, the look on their faces were enough to break anyone's heart.
We asked for the chaplain who had been there for Callum and he named Conor for us as we hadn't gotten round to christening him. We cuddled and kissed Conor and said our goodbyes then we had to face the horrendous task of telling our 3 year old daughter that the little brother she doted on so much had gone. We'll never forget the words she said, 'But I'll miss him'.

Conor was buried on 22nd January 2002 in the same grave as Callum was just a little under 2 1/2 years before. So many people were there for his funeral, so many people for such a special little boy.
No one could give me a reason for Conor's life being so short, it was put down to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. That's probably one of the hardest things - no one can answer the one burning question I have -why?