Burying a baby is something no parent should ever have to face, and yet that’s exactly what I had to do when my son was just three months old.

In October 2020, my then-partner, Gary, put Logan to sleep in a V-shaped pregnancy pillow next to our bed. He was fed, he was clean and he should have been safe.

Tragically though, he never woke up. And in August last year, the coroner at the inquest into his death ruled that co-sleeping in bed beside his father was a contributing factor to his death.

I will regret that night for as long as I live. When we found out I was expecting, Gary and I were so excited. We’d only been trying for a couple of months and couldn’t wait to extend our family.

At 20 weeks pregnant we had a gender reveal party where we popped a black balloon over our heads and got covered in blue confetti. I loved shopping for all my baby bits – choosing a pram and high chair, buying blue baby clothes and blankets, everything was blue!

Then, on 11 July 2020, our little Logan was born at 38 weeks. I had to have an emergency C-section because scans had revealed I was carrying extra fluid and there was a knot in his umbilical cord.

Thankfully he was healthy and was the most gorgeous baby. I was instantly in love with his tiny feet, bright blue eyes and wee button nose.

Back home, we quickly settled into a routine: a bath, Johnson’s night-time cream with lavender to help him sleep soundly, a bottle, then into his cot.