"Look what we did." She gasped, slightly breathless. All the effort, the tears, the pain and worry was instantly forgotten as they looked down at the baby in her arms. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "We made a girl."

"We did." He pressed his lips to her sweaty forehead. "She's perfect."

He felt her head fall against his shoulder. "I love you so much." He whispered. She was tired. Why wouldn't she be? They had been at this for 6 hours, although she'd been going for most of the day by herself before they made it to the hospital and really she had done all the work and it had been brutal. Then her arms went slack and the baby slipped a little, he caught her in his hand. He looked up suddenly when he heard a panicked voice and saw the worried look on the faces of the others in the room.

He looked back down and her eyes were closed. "Baby wake up." He urged desperately, his heart suddenly thudding wildly. The next few minutes were a blur. The newborn was taken from her mother's arms and handed to him and he was led away from bed. "What's going on?" he screamed as more and more people came running in and the more people that came in the further he was pushed out the way. "Tell me. What's happening?"

Before he could get another word out they had taken her away and he was left standing in the middle of the room with his newborn baby girl in his arms, she was just minutes old and he held onto her for dear life. He looked at her, she was still coming to terms with her new surroundings and then he looked at the floor. He was standing in blood, her blood. His head spun. What the fuck had just happened?

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Where has she gone?" He heard himself ask but he couldn't make sense of the answer. When they talked to him he couldn't hear anything but the rushing of blood in his head. Someone took the baby from his arms; he tried to hold on to her, he needed to hold onto something to stop him from falling. "We just need to check her out. We will bring her right back."

They took him to a room, away from the blood. It was empty until they bought the baby back and then it was just him and his baby but he didn't know what to do. He'd never held a baby before, not one this small and precious. He looked at his daughter and she was perfect and beautiful but he needed her, the baby needed her mother. Looking at the clock it was now well after midnight and he had no idea how long he had sat there, in that room, alone with his daughter.

Some else came in carrying a bottle of milk. "Do you want to feed her?" the voice floated out of the fog around him. He shook his head. "No. She's having breast milk. She needs her mother." The stranger put a hand on his arm. "The baby needs to be feed now, it's best for her that her sugar levels don't drop to low. We can't wait much longer."

He didn't want to feed her; they had a plan. They had done all the research. Breast milk was all that she needed, she was adamant that she was going to feed her baby. It was the best thing for her. She was supposed to be fed as soon as possible after her birth, within two hours. How much longer did they have? He looked at the clock but time meant nothing. He paced around the room, his hands shoved deep in her pockets to stop them shaking. He didn't want to be the one to tell her that he'd gone against the plan. "Does she have a name?" the stranger asked.

"No." He stopped and looked at the baby being fed. "Is she okay?" the stranger assured him she was fine. She was perfect. The stranger rattled off something, something about her weight and length but the numbers went in one ear and out the other. His heart wasn't in this room right now; his heart was down some hall in some cold operating theatre in the hands of people he had never seen.

Now the baby was back in his arms again. His heart was heavier than she was. "I'm sorry your mom is not here. She's going to be so excited to see you." Her eyes slid closed. Suddenly he was worried that she would think the stranger was her mother and that made him feel sick. He should have done it, her should have been her father and fed her because her mother couldn't. "I'm sorry."

The later the hour the louder the clock ticked. He closed his eyes tightly. This was a dream surely, a terrible dream and when he opened them it would all be over.

He didn't hear anyone come in. While the clock ticked louder, the minutes turned into an hour, then two and his world was in chaos. He was vaguely aware of people coming into the room. Was it one, two no three people? His legs were shaking as he stood up. Where was the baby? He was no longer holding her but couldn't remember why or how.

"I'm sorry." The doctor stood in front of him. He looked tired and anguished. "She lost a lot of blood and we couldn't stop the bleeding. We performed a hysterectomy to try and control the blood loss but we were unsuccessful."

"What?"

"Your wife didn't make it."

"Can I see her?"

"Absolutely. I will organise someone to take you down."

"When will she be able to feed the baby?"