I was already five months pregnant but constantly feeling ill and my doctor kept saying the baby was fine but the mother was full of nonsense. I was on my way to represent Namibia at a Commonwealth Conference in South Africa and he promised to admit me to hospital for observation so that he could establish whether there was anything wrong with me. I had earlier insisted on an amnio-synthesis to check for down syndrome as it is present in the same families as those who have twins. [My eldest daughter, born after my first miss-carriage, was one of a twin and I miss-carried the other child not knowing whether it was a boy or a girl.] On my return from the conference, I found a message on my answer phone (before mobile phones), from the doctor who had since received the results from the amnio-synthesis, requesting me to contact him immediately, and so I did. Baby had a 13th chromosome defect and had to be aborted; no choice was given to me and neither did I question it, but was admitted to hospital the next day, not to sort me out, but to kill my son. It was only afterwards that I realised the huge responsibility which accompanied my choice to have an amnio-synthesis, so I rationalised my choice by thinking that because Baby’s condition, according to the doctor, was worse than down syndrome, my decision by ignorance, was the right one. My son was shown to me and then probably chucked in a bin; no consideration was given to bury him, and, apart from my mother, I was not allowed to talk to others about him. A truly silent death! I was not going to have another child, but my mother believed that I could not raise an only child, so I had another healthy daughter. I am not morally and fanatically against abortion; however, losing a child through miss-carriage or abortion or even adoption is something I would now do whatever I can to prevent.