As the nurse handed me my newborn baby boy, with his downy black hair and the bluest eyes, I thought he was safe in my arms at last. I’d lost his twin early on in pregnancy and had been confined to hospital, waiting for Billy to be delivered six weeks early by caesarean. I had no idea I would spend the next 15 years fighting to keep him alive.
We created a happy routine at home – until Billy was four months old. Then one day I noticed he’d become chillingly still, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling. I thought it