My precious boy, I'm writing this letter as you approach your second birthday because I want you to realise how happy you make us. You're the strongest person I know and your fighting spirit inspires me each day.
I'm not surprised though. You were a battler even before you were born. I'd reached the end of my first trimester when your dad, Jason, now 33, and I learnt you might be different to your siblings - Patience, now eight, Kynam, seven, Briella, five, and Imali, four.
'There's a chance the baby could have Down syndrome,' the doctor warned us after a series of blood tests and scans.
He also offered to do an amniocentesis test, where a long needle would sample my amniotic fluid. But we refused. It's dangerous at such an early stage and there was no way we'd risk losing you. Besides, regardless of the results, I knew we'd keep you.
'This little one's going to be perfect,' your dad smiled. But as the pregnancy progressed you gave us plenty to worry about. Doctors ruled out Down syndrome and a range of other chromosomal problems, but it was clear you weren't developing properly.
Scans showed your jaw was too small and there was no cartilage in your nose. You also weren't swallowing amniotic fluid, causing my tummy to expand even farther. At 33 weeks, I was so big I had to stay in hospital.
'It's likely this bub's coming early,' the doctor said, giving you steroid shots to prepare your underdeveloped lungs.