THOSE closest to me will know I’m a fairly private person and am not one to share intimate matters let alone use a public platform to voice them.

But a recent life-changing event forced me to put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard) to speak about my experience in the hope of extending my thanks to the many, many wonderful people who helped me through it.

Let me stop you before you think this is yet another of those birthing sob stories that seem to be everywhere in the media. People are all too quick to criticise medical professionals when something goes awry – and my experience was pretty traumatic – but instead I want to thank those that were on duty that night.

I do not exaggerate when I say that every single member of staff we encountered during our stay was an absolute credit not only to Poole Hospital but to the NHS as well.

Despite being drastically short staffed with demands piling on from every direction nothing was too much trouble for them.

The midwives in the delivery units - both the Haven and the Delivery Suite - made us feel calm and cared for and continued to give words of encouragement at every stage. The drug-infused haze of my labour means I cannot be certain of the names of the staff there (so I apologise if I have these wrong) but without Tash, Emily and Holly I do not think I would have got through the ordeal.

And it was an ordeal. Perhaps trauma would be a better term. My daughter came very, very quickly - from waters breaking to delivery in 8 hours and 17 minutes - which any non-parent will think is amazing. Anyone who has been through it will understand what physical pressures that much aggressive exertion will do to a woman and the unborn child and after two hours of solid pushing both I and Baby S needed help. We were rushed to the Delivery Suite where I was ordered to leave my dignity at the door, put into stirrups, injected with fluids, and a ventouse cap was attached to my little girl. She was pulled from me and into the world and placed onto my chest, her eyes locking with mine - the worst and then best moment of my life thus far.

But that delirious moment of joy was short-lived and, just a few hours later, her blood sugars plummeted and she was taken to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit where specialists pumped her full of food via a tube in her stomach and inserted a cannula into her tiny arm to do blood tests.

Nothing will ever break my heart as much as it did seeing my bundle of joy wrapped in wires and hearing her tiny fluttered heartbeat via a machine.

Again the nurses were incredible. Alexa, Jo and Trudy cared for Baby S with such affection. Every step was fully explained to us and they encouraged us to feed her, change her and cuddle her when we could. It was not the first moment as a family we had envisaged but we were made to feel that we were still providing for our daughter in some way. When I went back to postnatal that evening, childless, the midwives insisted I stay in a private room away from the other families fearing I would become upset - something all too visible on my face by now - and they wheeled me into the new room along with my things sparing me from waddling painfully along the corridor.

I will forever be grateful for that act of kindness and the numerous other moments from the support workers and paediatricians when I was comforted.

After 30 odd hours we were moved to the Transitional Care Unit - an intimate ward of eight beds, with just a midwife and a support worker on hand to help. The idea being that they work with families to help them with their poorly children until they are fit enough to leave.

I cannot thank the staff there enough for all the tricks of the trade they taught us over those three days - everything from breastfeeding techniques, swaddling and sleeping. Carol, Cheryl, Lindsay, Mary and everyone else who we encountered were wonderful.

One member of staff said that not one of them would be there if they didn't all love what they do and it is so very clear that they care passionately about ensuring that mothers, fathers and babies receive the very best care. If the threat of being closed and moved to Bournemouth affects them, they did not let it show.

Given the controversy surrounding the CCG’s decision to move the maternity ward and other units to the Royal Bournemouth Hospital I feel it imperative to say that it is not the building or the location that makes for good service but the people.

And I know that not everyone’s experience is the same but I received nothing short of an impeccable service and will always remember my experience with a smile because of those men and women at Poole’s maternity unit.