I remember the day I was born. I was crying my eyes out, and then I felt the warmth of my mother holding me in her arms. The nurses bathed me in warm water, soothing my bloody skin. My parents said they would call me Lauren. As my father wheeled my mother back to his car, she held me close and whispered a sweet lullaby to my ear.
Suddenly my throat started to burn. My heart was beating faster and faster by the minute. There was a rush of feet and the chair swivelled round. I was taken back to the hospital ward, where the doctors immediately attached tubes to my mouth and nose. They listened at my chest. I became scared and started wailing.
My mother was told she was not allowed to come inside and comfort me. The machine was pumping rapidly like my heart. It was unstoppable, uncontrollable – an unthinkable nightmare.
The day I experienced life was the day I very nearly experienced death.
