Holding my newborn, Zeydn, on my shoulder, I patted her back and her little ribs made a strange popping sound.
'It's like someone cracking their knuckles,' I said to my husband, Anthony, then 27.
It was February 2015, and I had four kids from two previous relationships, Zach, then 9, Zoey, 6, Zander, 5, and Zavier, 4.
So I knew when something wasn't right.
Zeydn, 9 weeks, was a much fussier baby than her siblings had been.
She wasn't using her right arm much, either. I was worried.
So, after dropping the others at school, I took Zeydn to hospital.
After an X-ray, the paediatrician seemed cold.
'We ordered the wrong X-ray,
