'You all right?' she would come and whisper if we were out, knowing how uncomfortable I tend to be in crowds. Even while chatting and laughing she loved to notice where and how I was. The crowd would fall away and I'd feel her focus on me.

It was five weeks to go before our baby was due.

She said she had a stomachache. 'It's not contractions,' she said, 'I can tell.'

Within half and hour she was in serious pain.

At the hospital, the doctor appeared with some news.

The baby was fine but Cath had a rare form of placental bleed. She would need to have an emergency Cesarean.

'It's not good news I'm afraid.'

Then he said some awful things - a build in blood pressure, an inoperable blood clot in the brain stem..

A nurse lifted her eyelids to check her eyes and what I saw made the breath catch in my throat. All the light had left them. Cath's face was wiped smooth in a way I'd never seen. Cath, who had always looked more alive than anyone else, was gone.

The following day and night were bewildering, a blur. Returning home, dealing with a confused and distraught Lindsey and then there was the new baby of course, trying to make mental space for her.

Dawn came and in the ragged edge between light and dark, I felt the room close in around me. A new day was here, bringing something I could scarcely believe - a world without Catherine.

Nine months have passed and life is moving forward, taking me with it. Lindsey is 10 now, Kate , the baby, is growing every day, looking more and more like Catherine as the days go by. And no amount of grief can counter that - children are about the future and everything has to move on.

With every month, I am functioning a bit better. But there is another, private part of me that stays still. It's where I keep my love for Catherine. Absent or present, who Catherine was in my life is something solid in me. I only have to look at the girls to feel the stake she has in each new day.

Talking to Lindsey the other day brought me up short as she sounded exactly like her mother. I miss her and the life that we had together.

Our vows were to love till death parted us, but even though she's gone, my feelings for her are as strong as ever. 'You shouldn't dwell,' people say. But why not, when my love is none the less for her not being here?

I am coping, thanks to the help from the team, especially Nick and Sara, who help take care of the girls sometimes. But the weeks roll past like a flat terrain- life feels like a treadmill.

I try not to show it, but, with Kate especially, the bond was slow to form.

It had been hard separating the end of Cath's life from the start of hers. Cath would not like it, but I did find it hard to reconcile with the fact that Cath had gave up her life in exchange for Kate's.

I am a single parent now. Something that I find very difficult. I was finding it hard enough being a parent with Catherine around. Now there is school, holidays, Christmas - countless decisions that I have to make alone. And there is no margin for error as there are two little girls depending on me. But I somehow take comfort in the belief that Catherine would be watching over us and making sure that everything was ok. Things might not be smooth sailing all the way, but we would make it.

I would make sure of it. I owe Catherine that much at least, to ensure that our girls have the very best that I can give them.