
Millie – A little fighter, always meant to be
In September 2024, we discovered we were expecting our double rainbow baby after two previous losses. We were filled with hope and nerves, excited for the possibility of a little miracle, yet scared to walk the road we had been down before. Each scan and appointment felt like another milestone ticked off, and everything went perfectly — a textbook pregnancy.
When our due date came and went, we were booked for an induction. But, as it often happens, I went into labour the day before. Everything looked great, and the baby was happy at our check-up. After 24 hours at home, tired and ready for some pain relief, we headed to the hospital — an hour earlier than planned. We had no idea that hour would change everything.
While preparations were being made for an epidural, the CTG monitor showed our baby’s heart rate dropping with every contraction. When my waters were broken, it became clear she was in distress, and we were quickly taken to theatre. There was no time for a spinal block, and I was put under general anaesthetic as my husband was taken from the room.
Millie was born at 9:33am on 4th June, weighing just 2530g at 41½ weeks. Her cord had caused entanglement around her neck and foot, but after a few minutes she began breathing well. Then, an hour later, she started having seizures. The Life Flight team was called, and a team from Wellington NICU arrived to take her to intensive care.


Millie was admitted with HIE, possible sepsis, and meconium aspiration. It appeared her cord had begun failing, likely causing her small size in addition to the entanglement. She was placed under induced hypothermia cooling treatment for 72 hours to protect her brain. Those days were the longest of our lives, as we waited for the MRI that would tell us what her future might hold.
Being away from home, family, and friends was tough. The doctors and nurses became our in-house support crew. When Millie came off cooling successfully, began breathing on her own, and her MRI came back clear, the team cheered. Our tiny fighter was recovering in leaps and bounds and after seven days, she was flown back to Masterton SCBU.
Today, Millie is 4 1/2 months old, thriving, smiling, and full of light. Her story opened our eyes to a world behind hospital doors that many never see. I don’t think any words can truly give a NICU journey justice, the constant hum of machines twinkling at night, the gentle beeps, the sense of both fear and hope — it’s a world that stays with you forever.
We will be eternally grateful to our incredible medical team, doctors, and nurses. They each fought for her success and held her with the same love a mother would, caring for her as their own when we simply could not.

Thanks so much for sharing your personal story!
We get a lot of positive feedback from families in a neonatal unit who read these stories and feel strength, hope and positivity knowing that they are not alone going through these experiences and feeling certain emotions.
If you would like to discuss sharing the story of your neonatal journey, we’d love to hear from you.

Support Us
If you want to help our support of families going through the stress and anxiety of a neonatal journey, you can donate via the link below.
- The Little Miracles Trust provides support to families of premature or sick full-term babies as they make their journey through Neonatal Intensive Care, the transition home, and onwards. We do not receive any Government funding and are entirely reliant on the generosity of individuals, companies and organisations in the form of donations, value-in-kind donations, grants, sponsorship and fundraising events to supplement operating costs and fund our services and initiatives.
- As we are a registered charity (CC56619) with Charities Services New Zealand we will send you an IRD compliant tax receipt – this will happen automatically by return email.