Missing Harry

Let's not forget about the Dads

2013-05-21T02:55:00.000-07:00

All the while I have been grieving and blogging I haven't really written much about Harry's Dad and how he has been throughout this horrendous time, and to coincide with the national campaign "Dad's Matter" for grieving father's from the wonderful charity Saying Goodbye:

Follow them on:

FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/SayingGoodbyeUK

Twitter: @SayinggoodbyeUK

Website: www.sayinggoodbye.org

I read these poems on their FaceBook page and wanted to share them for their poignancy and how accurately they describe a father's experience:

Men Do Cry

I heard quite often "men don’t cry"

though no one ever told me why.

So when I fell and skinned a knee,

no one came by to comfort me.

And when some bully-boy at school

would pull a prank so mean and cruel,

I’d quickly learn to turn and quip,

"It doesn’t hurt," and bite my lip.

So as I grew to reasoned years,

I learned to stifle any tears.

Though "Be a big boy" it began,

quite soon I learned to "Be a man."

And I could play that stoic role

while storm and tempest wracked my soul.

No pain or setback could there be

could wrest one single tear from me.

Then one long night I stood nearby

and helplessly watched my son die.

And quickly found, to my surprise,

that all that tear less talk was lies.

And still I cry, and have no shame.

I cannot play that "big boy" game.

And openly, without remorse,

I let my sorrow takes its course.

So those of you who can’t abide

a man you’ve seen who’s often cried,

reach out to him with all your heart

as one whose life’s been torn apart.

For men DO cry when they can see

their loss of immortality.

And tears will come in endless streams

when mindless fate destroys their dreams.

by Ken Falk

Don’t Cry for Me Daddy

Don’t cry for me Daddy
I am right here
Although you can’t see me
I see your tears

I visit you often
Go to work with you each day
And when it’s time to close your eyes
On your pillow’s where I lay

I hold your hand and stroke your hair
And whisper in your ear
If you’re sad today Daddy
Remember I am here

God took me home
This we know is true
But you will always be my Daddy
Even though I’m not with you

I am Daddy’s little girl
We will never be apart
For every time you think of me
Please know I’m in your heart.

I love you Daddy!

So anyway, back to Harry's Dad. He was the emotional one when we were in the hospital, and when everything was going on, he would be the one who would talk and cry and I was the one who would listen to the Doctors and try to think practically. The roles have now utterly reversed and I think they did the day we left the "bubble" of the hospital. I felt like while we were there we had to be strong for Harry and to make the important decisions for him and his care and his treatment and his future. I think when I left, the "burden" of that responsibilty had gone as we had said our goodbyes to Harry and now was the time to cry and to talk and to question. Harry's Dad was the opposite. It was almost as though now the world would see his feelings and it is not acceptable for a man to behave in any way that shows emotion. He would open up with me when we were alone but otherwise would put on a brave face. I was worried that this would lead to repressed feelings but after a while of trying to coax it out of him, and getting an aggressive reaction I thought it best to leave it be.

I know his friends were thinking of him, but knowing how strong he is generally, they didn't want to bring it up with him and upset him so would discuss more trivial things like football and tales of nights out. After speaking to a few of them, I know that they would be there for him if he did decide to open up to them and for me that is great, just to know that he does have others who will listen if he feels he wants to share. But he doesn't. If I bring up what happened or if I want to go over that terrible day vocally (rather than just over and over in my head) I know now that doing this with Harry's Dad is not the right thing to do. It is almost as though he has found a place for Harry in his heart, and he can deal with his own feelings inside, but will not want to talk about the event or those feelings and feels comfortable managing things this way.

Men are so different from women, but that doesn't mean they don't feel the same inside. It just means that they have different ways of expressing how they feel. Some will want to talk, and share, and cry. Others, like Harry's Dad will find their own ways to deal with it all, and that doesn't mean they aren't feeling anything anymore.

He still expected a baby just as I did.

He was there, in the labour ward, watching the contractions on the machine, and holding my hand as the epidural was sited.

He was there, when they decided to go to an emergency section, and witnessed the chaos that surrounded that decision.

He was there, in his theatre outfit, while I was wheeled to theatre. He watched as they operated to give birth to our son.

He was there when no one would tell us what was happening to our son. Just that he was "poorly".

He was there when the amazing doctor broke the horrific news to us.

He was the first to go and see Harry on the neonatal unit when frankly, I was too afraid.

He was there when Harry was christened on the unit.

He was there when Harry met his family members.

He was there when the doctors would explain Harry's condition was deteriorating and we made our decision with the doctors that we would withdraw treatment.

He was there, when we returned to the unit to allow Harry to be with the angels.

He held him, as I did, and loved him, as much as I did.

He was there when we went to the funeral directors and he supported me while I dressed him in his perfect white outfit. He put on his tiny blue slippers before I placed him in his tiny white coffin.

He carried Harry into the church for his funeral, infront of all our family and loved ones.

He stood beside me as I read my reading in the service.

He carried Harry into the cemetry and laid him down to rest at his grave.

He did all these things.

He is Harry's Dad.

He is grieving too.

Please remember the fathers. They tend to grieve silently. They put on the brave face and pretend all is fine.

They have lost a baby too. They feel the agonising pain. Just because they are strong doesn't mean they feel nothing.

He remembers Harry, as I do. He thinks about him when he sees babies who would be his age. He thinks about how Harry should be playing with William.

Dad's Matter.......

Is it OK for life to not be as perfect as we planned...

2013-05-10T03:17:00.001-07:00

Well at the end of this month I turn the rather over ripe age of 30. How do I feel about this? Well it is a strange one. I have made 30 a massive milestone for myself for many, many years. I have to say, I have lived a very fortunate life, and have made the most of every oppourtunity thrown my way. When I was a teenager, I wrote a list of achievements to have checked off by the time I reached 30.

My list included to travel, to work and live in cities outside of Devon, to buy my own place, to go to university, to pass my drivers test, to get married and to have two children. As it pans out, I have managed to achieve all those things, and yet somehow life still doesn't seem as complete and as "perfect" as I had envisaged as the teenage girl writing this list.

I travelled and absolutely loved it. Travelling has been the foundation for the person that I am today, and I will always be thankful that I managed to go to all the places I have been, the people that I met and the things I got to experience. I lived in Liverpool and in London, and really loved both places. I must say I do really miss city life, but know that the life I am making for my little family is far more important than fancy restaurants and glamorous parties and spending my free time in spas or shopping in Bond Street. I went to university and studied hard, and got a "first" for my first year, then I moved into a wonderful job and decided to put the university project on hold. I bought a flat in London, and made it into a beautiful home. I love that place so much, but when I decided to move back to Devon I left it behind and rent it out to a nice Polish family until I am able to sell. I got married, but the wedding wasn't the wedding of my dreams. We got married in my seventh month of pregnancy expecting William. It was very last minute but we wanted to be a "proper family" before the arrival of our first born. We invited 20 or so guests, had a registry office ceremony, and a meal afterwards in a local restaurant. It wasn't grand or the big princess day one dreams of, but it was lovely and it was achieving the end goal of being officially married. And then having two children... I have given birth twice... I have my gorgeous William, who yesterday celebrated his third birthday and I am bursting with pride for his little life and how much joy he brings to me and all his family. But my dear little Harry, he is not here to complete the "perfect" family we had planned. Poor Harry had his chance to be with us cruelly snatched away and that makes me feel sick, sad and empty all at the same time.

So, is my list incomplete? Have I done all the things I wanted to? Yes I have but not everything works out exactly as planned. It is near on impossible to have the "perfect" life.

The timing of my thirtieth birthday could not be worse either. Just a week before we see Harry's first birthday. Right now, I should be planning a wonderful first birthday for my little boy. Just as I had for William, with toys, and party food and balloons, and watching Harry play with William, taking his first steps. I have felt very strange even discussing my birthday as I know looming around the corner is my big reminder of my son who died, a year ago. A year? How is it possible to be a year already? It certainly doesn't feel like a whole year ago I was sat in shock, confusion and disbelief as the horrendous events unfolded around me. As I was wheeled to meet my "poorly" baby, and watching him helplessly lying there in his cot. How can it be a whole year since I touched his skin, held his feet and hands while we had him christened on the neonatal unit and unbearably, a year since we held him in our arms as he took his final breaths? Moments I will hold in my heart for all eternity, and feel like just yesterday.

A year - so much has happened though in this year. A year of pain, internal suffering, grief and anger. Of sadness, jealousy, uncontrollable tears and real, real sorrow. People say it will get easier... The pain never, ever goes away. You just learn how to cope with that pain. You learn how to behave, how to put on a face, an act, to say the "right thing" and to find the inner strength you never knew you had. People say I am strong, I should be proud of how collected I am, and how I can talk about Harry so openly. Well let me tell you, inside I do not feel strong, I do not feel collected, and I can talk about Harry because I love him so very much, and want the truth of what happened to be understood and known by all, and for his memory to go on to achieve many wonderful things. To try to find a positive out of the most foul thing to ever be endured.

I have to say, the work I carry out for Harry's Trust, makes me very, very proud. The pride I feel for my efforts in his name are the replacement feelings I should be feeling for my living son. I should be bursting with pride for my little boy, but instead, Harry's Trust is my "baby", so obviously, I want to see the Trust grow and achieve and be successful.

I also feel as though I am expected to be "over it" now that we come up to this huge milestone. I feel like this is the end of a chapter in my grief journey. Is it? I don't know. What I do know is that I miss Harry, every single day. Every day I wish things had been different. Every day I wonder what he would be doing if he was here. Every day I see him in William. Every day I pray to God to take care of my boy. Every day I pray that our angel in heaven is watching over us, keeping us all safe and surrounding us in his light and his love. I don't expect that will change. I know I am able to do more of the things I couldn't do before. I can see happiness in new babies. I don't hate pregnant women anymore. I am ok with being asked questions about what happened and can even take the ridiculous comments from idiots who speak before they think. I will never be over it, or be OK about what happened, as it will always be the cruel, painful event that it was and I can never make it right.

I spoke to my wonderful counsellor about how I feel about my birthday and how wrong it feels to be celebrating my "big day" when I should be sat in a dark room, remembering the loss of my son and in mourning. She reminded me of how I have felt inside for the whole of this past year, but yet there have been happy times. About how it is possible to enjoy yourself and celebrate other things, while still always having the place of sadness deep inside that I will always carry for my blessed son. It is possible to feel real sadness inside, whilst laughing at something funny, whilst bursting with pride of your other children, to enjoy spending time with those you love and to find happiness in what you enjoy. You aren't always going to just experience one emotion all your life. So it is OK for me to celebrate the end of an era of my twenties coming to a close? Remembering all the many happy and wonderful times I have enjoyed and looking forward to a new decade, full of hope and a chance to make new memories, and hopefully a time full of happiness and love. I have been a lucky girl to experience and enjoy everything I have, but I have been most unlucky to have suffered the most hideous event of all. I will remember Harry on my birthday, and while I will be incredibly sad to not have him celebrate with me, I will do my best to enjoy the plans we have made and to make the most of it. I won't get another 30th birthday, things aren't going to change and I know he will be wishing me a wonderful thirtieth birthday from high up in the sky.

Holiday! It would be so nice....

2013-04-30T13:29:00.001-07:00

We took our second family holiday last week. I wanted to write about it on this blog as some of the emotions I felt were ones that caught me by surprise.

When you book a holiday, it is all very exciting. The prospect of fun times, sunshine and relaxation. And, I was incredibly excited when we booked this holiday.

I wanted for us to have a lovely break together before the arrival of Little Pip and create some happy memories for William as well as for Harry's Dad and myself.

I was reminded of the identical holiday that we booked last year. The same time of year, and for the same reasons. We wanted William to have some quality time before the arrival of Harry.

When I was packing, I found all the maternity clothes that I bought last year for last year's holiday when I was expecting Harry. When I was planning our day trips I was reminded of all the lovely things we did together, with Harry there growing in my tummy. I remember stuffing my face with all the lovely, healthy, fresh fruit and salads at the all inclusive resort thinking of all the good I was giving to my baby. I feel very sad recalling my pregnancy with Harry as I was blissfully unaware of any problems, and just accepted all the symptoms as I did not know any better. If only.....

Then as we were preparing to leave I would find myself getting upset going on the holiday that we had discussed last year, except it was without our second baby. We had talked while we were away and when we got back about booking our next trip, and all the logistics of taking William and another baby. And yet, there we were, preparing to go on that very holiday, still with just the one child. I would find myself crying about it, and William would ask "why are you crying Mummy?" and I would say "because Harry can't come on our holiday". William always knows what to say. "Harry will be watching us in the sky with the angels Mummy". I felt horrendous on the day we were leaving, as it was the first time we had all left Harry for over a week and we would miss our regular visits. I felt empty and sad when I should have been feeling happy and excited.

While we were away, the hotel was just the same, and the staff were just the same. It was like we were reliving the same trip all over again. I would remember what life was like before we lost Harry and the "without a care in the world" feeling we all had. How I miss that. The "undamaged" time. But in reality, our lives have changed beyond recognition. It was nice to try and get a sense of "normality" for a while though.

I thought I would share something with you though. We took William back to the sealife centre we went to last year, and had a photo done with the sealions, as we did last year - and also to the crocodile park, and I held a baby crocodile:

2012 - pregnant with Harry.....

2013 - Pregnant with Little Pip:

So you can see it really does seem like the identical holiday! However this time I have the sadness to carry of losing Harry and the anxiety of carrying our rainbow baby... all emotions I never knew existed this time last year...

But, all the while, we had a nice trip and we enjoyed each other's company. William had a few days of sickness unfortunately but he was a star and didn't let it ruin his, or our, trip. So I decided to take a bit of inspiration from Wills and remember that Harry could still be with us on holiday and watch over us as he always does. While we didn't take him in person, I am sure he was there with us, in spirit. xxx

10 Months On...

2013-04-08T11:24:00.003-07:00

Today is ten months since the birth of my beautiful boy.

It has been a whole month since I last blog. Not because I have nothing to say, that would never be the case. Mainly because I have been so busy and also quite ill. I have spent most the time rushed off my feet, or asleep!

So I wanted to just do an update on where I am at.

Well, sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago that Harry was born. Other times it feels like just yesterday. When I consider all that has happened in these 10 months I find it incredible that it has only been 10 months and so much has gone on. But when I recall the events of Harry's birth, and those precious 26 hours he spent with us, it feels like just yesterday.

I am unsure of whether or not my emotions "got stuck" along the way, or if I found some strength to put my sadness away until I was ready, but this past month has been emotional. It could have something to do with my hormones, I am not sure. I have found a lot of things very upsetting this past month, and have been more inclined to allow myself to cry.

I have also felt a good deal of anger this month. An example, I was so fearful up until my 20 week scan that Little Pip, our rainbow baby, would have problems that would mean we wouldn't wind up bringing him home either. Every little tiny thing was filling me with despair and worry. Harry's Dad couldn't understand my fears as he said to me "why are you worried? All your children have had nothing wrong with them. It was someone else's f*ck up that caused Harry to be born so poorly". I had never considered this. Whenever I think of Harry, I think of him as a poorly baby. Lying there, so helpless, wired up to all the monitors. I thought that the way he was, was my fault, as my stupid body grew the cord and the placenta abnormally, and "it was just one of those things". But it wasn't. Harry's cord issues could have been diagnosed at one of the many scans regardless of whether it is routine, it could have even been diagnosed in labour when the midwife felt something unusual infront of his head. The bleed could've been discovered far sooner, his heartrate could have been monitored closer if the fetal scalp clip had been used properly, he would've received expert care if the placenta and cord had been examined upon delivery. All these things. They weren't my fault. Someone else could've acted differently and we could have had a lovely healthy baby. But it wasn't meant that way. And that makes me angry. I wish so badly things could have been different, not just for me, but for everyone else suffering from the loss of this lovely baby, and also for Harry too.

Anyway, thankfully, it turns out this time around, after a very thorough 20 week scan, Little Pip is doing really well, and the consultants seem keen to do a pre-37 week c-section so that I don't go into labour and have to deal with an emergency section again.

Something I cannot bear at the moment though is how people seem to truly think that having Little Pip is going to make the pain of losing Harry go away. No, it isn't. The pain of losing Harry is still as painful as it was the day I came home without my baby. Everyday I am reminded of various things, that Harry is not with us. This morning William woke up and his first words were "Mummy I am sad." When asked why he was sad he said "I am sad because Harry isn't here". Blimey.... I told William that we are all sad that Harry isn't here, and we all miss him very much. But he loves you and watches over his big brother, every day. Or looking at Facebook and seeing the babies who were born at the same time as Harry and seeing them growing and changing and learning, just like he should be. But instead my arms are still empty. I will long for him every day for the rest of my life. Having another baby will not change my sadness. It will not fix my broken heart. It will bring me some joy, and some happiness, and it will occupy my mind, but the pain and sorrow will never soften nor will it disappear. I am a broken woman, and that is me now. Forever.

I am having a slight social problem at the moment in that I am not feeling much up to spending time in groups or in any environment that might encourage questions. I live in a small town, a lot of people know me or my family and questions are often thrown around. Sometimes inappropriately and sometimes intrusively. I want to avoid these situations. I also don't feel like putting on the brave face most of the time, or feel like pretending things are all ok. I have have to bail out of several things of late as I just cannot deal with it. My emotions and my strength are suffering somewhat. I am unsure of a solution to this. Harry's Dad is becoming frustrated with my hermit-like behaviour, and while for now I have my sinusitis to hide behind, it will soon have cleared up and my excuses for not wanting to leave the house will be few.

The Trust is doing well and as ever keeping my mind extremely busy, I continue to be proud of our work and have spent a lot of work on future events as well as making my list of "Harry's Wishes" to share with the hospital and make some solid plans for how our donations are spent. More to come on this.

On a more positive level, I am starting feel far more connected to Little Pip. His or her movements are making themselves more known, which is obviously reassuring and also very exciting to know my baby is wriggling around in there. I didn't want to know the sex of this baby, as the excitement "on arrival" is just overwhelming and I wanted that special moment again. I really have no inkling what we have in there, I would obviously love a girl, being the girlie girl I am I would love to indulge her, however having another boy would be lovely for Will to have a playmate and a brother to grow up with. I have started to allow myself to plan more for his or her arrival, making arrangements at home and creating a nursery in my spare room, and getting a few bits and pieces to put away. I had everything ready for Harry's arrival so I really don't need much as all those bags of nappies, and Johnson's baby products are all tucked away in the cupboard. Along with all those freshly washed and ironed baby clothes that I had put in Harry's chest of drawers that never made it on to his little body.
Harry is letting his brother or sister use what he didn't.

I am amazed that is so close to Harry's birthday as well. I have a lot on in the next 8 weeks as well. A holiday, where we went last year, a few months before Harry's arrival. Looking back at that holiday is strange as I feel I was so innocently happy then, and now I am forever disturbed. I also have William's third birthday which will be a happy time, and my 30th, which I can take or leave right now. The week after I have a scan when we will get the date for my section, then it is Harry's birthday... a time for happiness and true sadness. A time for remembering the precious life we wanted and loved so much, and celebrating all the love we share for this little boy. And also the sadness, that he was taken too soon, and missed more than words can describe.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Somehow less of a mother...

2013-03-08T07:42:00.000-08:00

So with Mother's Day on Sunday I feel like I wanted to write something about a few experiences that have cropped up since losing Harry and also since having William, that perhaps people could relate to or maybe to be aware of.

I feel a bit funny about Mother's Day. I don't want to, as I feel that it is important to celebrate Mother's Day. Our mothers do so much for us, not just when we are growing up but all through our lives. My mum had three of us, under five at one point, with Dad working away Monday to Friday, she really had her work cut out for her. She did a superb job though, I have many happy memories growing up. Even now, my mum tends to be the first person I call when I have a problem and usually the only person that I listen to! She is so good with William and he absolutely adores her. She is what I compare my own parenting experience to, as I feel that she did a great job with us, I want the same upbringing for William. He deserves the best.

Anyway, it got me thinking about why I feel funny about Mother's Day. I think it is mainly to do with the fact that I am a mother to two children, and only one of them is here to celebrate it with me. I know that William will do all he can to make it special for me, as I know he loves the festivities but I will obviously be thinking a lot about Harry. It is the same with when people ask me how many children I have, I feel like I am lying if I say that I have two, as I actually only have one... but likewise if I say I only have one, I feel like I am lying as I have actually carried and given birth to two children. And now I am in my third pregnancy I feel like I am missing out something when I talk about my second pregnancy and my baby isn't here to show for those experiences. I kind of feel that as a bereaved mother, I am somehow less of a mother. Like half the mother I should be, because only half of my children are here....

A similar issue is how other mothers make you feel like less of a mother because you didn't have a "regular" birth, because you had a c-section. What is that about? I have had one "normal" (albeit assisted) delivery and one emergency c-section. When I tell people that I will be having an elective c-section this time round I get looks like "well that's cheating" or "what a poor effort". My mum had c-sections with all three of us on medical grounds, and she talked about how people made you feel like you hadn't done things properly because you had a c-section. I didn't chose to have a c-section with Harry - I was rushed to theatre following a bleed and a severe drop in my babies heartrate. I am almost positive that most people would chose a vaginal delivery over a c-section any day as recovering from having your stomach sliced open is not a glamourous experience. That being said I know the pain of an episiostomy so I am pretty sure most wouldn't chose for that either!

It is a shame that mothers do this to each other, I found it really hard in parenting groups after having William that it was like a constant competition "well my baby sleeps through the night" (at 6 weeks) and my baby feeds so well, my baby eats everything I feed him, my baby can walk (at 9 months), my baby can read/count/knows his colours (at 1 year!). I couldn't handle the constant comparisons and judgemental mothers so I just stopped going along in the end, especially as William had to be put through controlled crying at 10 months for us to get a good nights sleep and had tongue tie and struggled to breastfeed for a long time, then had colic/reflux and would cry all night long. It made me feel really bad about myself, and again, less of a mother, as I wasn't enjoying this blissful experience that everyone made out they were.

It is even the same with breastfeeding, which is obviously down to the individual mother. And what a shame it is when mothers have to give up sooner than they wanted to as it just wasn't working out as planned, and some breastfeeding nazi starts shoving it down your throat? I breastfed Wills for 5-6 months exclusively, and then added in formula feeds and solid foods and he seemed to be much happier so weaned him off. But didn't I know it, "oh you should try until 12 months, and it is best for the both of you"... etc etc. It was a relief in the end to not feel like a dairy cow and to have my body back after what felt like forever. I have heard health visitors and how they speak to women who chose not to feed, and while I think everyone should give it a try (as it is way easier to feed yourself than mess about with sterilising bottles and buying formula etc!), that is my own opinion and some people just don't want to, and that is their opinion, and no one should be made to feel like any less of a woman because they chose not to.

And my latest "issue" is with William's sleep. Since having Harry his sleep pattern has gone wild. We had it done to a T from just before he was 1 until Harry was born and Wills was just over 2 years. He would go to bed no problems, tucked in, wide awake and he would settle himself and go off to sleep with no dramas, and sleep until 6-7am. We were so happy with his wonderful sleep routine after his first year being so awful. We appreciated our good night's sleep. After we lost Harry, Wills stayed in my parents bedroom for a month so I could recover from my c-section. He would have Mum sit with him til he fell asleep and would wake when they went to bed, but knew they were going to bed and that someone was there in the room with him so felt "safe" and went back off. When we got back to our house after 5 weeks away, Wills would not go to sleep without someone sat with him and some nights this would mean sitting with him for up to an hour while he fell asleep. I didn't know what else to do as we couldn't bring ourselves to leave him to cry, after all I had been through I felt so fragile.Then at 10.30-11pm every night he would wake up and cry, I would sit with him again til he went back off and even then he would be in such a light sleep that he would wake as soon as you walked out of his room and this could go on for hours. In the end I would bring him up to our room so we could all get a good nights sleep and he would sleep next to me in my bed. This has gone on for the past nine months and I now feel that it needs to be fixed, as soon as possible, with the new baby being born in August. I spoke about me sleeping on the floor in Wills room to try and comfort him in his own bed and settle him back off but being pregnant I can't think of much worse than sleeping on the floor, especially when sleeping in my own bed in getting uncomfortable. Anyway, this week he has been sleeping my room, but "in his own bed" on the floor (basically, his mattress, his pillow and his duvet) and he has gone to sleep within 5-10 mins as we have cut out any naps altogether, and is sleeping through until 5.30-6am ish and staying in bed until 6am when his groclock shows the sun come up! He has been doing this since Monday night and has woken up once or twice at his usual times in the first few nights but settled straight away (using bribes and telling him what a big boy his is staying in his own bed!). When he is absolutely settled and sleeps completely without waking then I will start him back in his own room and see how that goes. I have felt that as William's sleep has been so back to front since we lost Harry, and that we have been quite slack with him and it really shows in his behaviour now we are tightening up with him, I do feel judged again. I want to be stronger than that but do find it very hard when you are told you're not doing something "right".

I have promised myself that with "Little Pip" I am going to be much stronger, and go by what I think is right and not be put off or persuaded what is right by other people. I know mothers feel endless guilt, either about not having enough money, or working too much and not spending enough time together, or being too strict, or not strict enough or not being able to give them everything they want.

Someone said to me recently that when the new baby comes, that the work I do for the Trust will diminish considerably. It won't. Yes I will have less time but I do all I do for the Trust out of the love I have for my dear son, and his name will continue through the work of the Trust, and I would hate for Harry's name to suddenly be forgotten as I am having our new baby.

I think all mothers are truly doing the best for their kids and all out of the love they have for their children in their hearts, and wouldn't the world be a far better place if all us mothers could appreciate that in each other and try to support the decisions that each of us make, as nearly all of us (obviously there are always exceptions to the rule!!) make our decisions with the best interests of our children first and foremost, and this Mother's Day, we should celebrate each other and our achievements as mothers collectively, and individually.

I am very lucky to have a wonderful example set for me by my mummy and I hope I set a good example to my children too.

Pregnancy After Loss

2013-03-06T11:48:00.002-08:00

After I lost Harry, all I could focus on was getting pregnant again to give us all some hope, some focus and the child we so badly wanted as a part of our family.

What I didn't realise, in any way, was the terrible levels of anxiety I would experience.

So in the first trimester, I was paranoid every day that I would wind up with a horrific bleed and that would be the hopes for this baby all over. Then, as I edged towards the 12 week marker and had seen a very strong and active "Little Pip" on the ultrasound, I started to become less worried about miscarrying and more worried about suffering the horrendous "we can't find a heartbeat" and how I would feel if I was to have a stillbirth.

I often wonder how I would cope as a bereaved mother, if I was to have an premature baby. I see these wonderful mothers in the support group at the neonatal unit, who are stronger than strong, watching their tiny fighters, wishing and hoping for the miracle they deserve. After having my waters go preterm with both my pregnancies, I worry about this pregnancy having them go even earlier and so the chances of a prem baby seem higher. After seeing my darling boy three hours after giving birth to him, all wired up and ventilated, and watch him fight for his dear little life, and not make it, I worry constantly how I would feel if something was to go wrong this time round. Last time, I was able to be strong, for Harry, listening and observing. This time, with all those horrendous memories and experiences that followed, I don't think I could cope as well as I did. I am not sure I could keep the positive outlook required of a preemie mummy, as my outlook would be so clouded by Harry's story.

Every one tells me "this time will be different", "you must try to remember this is a new, fresh pregnancy", "the extra care you receive will ensure no mistakes will be made this time".... despite all these things I still think of all the things that could go wrong this time. No one is safe from a nasty infection creeping in, no one is guaranteed the healthy placenta your baby needs, no one can say that their birth will be totally straightforward, no one can be absolutely sure you will go on to have a lovely, happy, healthy baby. So whilst I do agree, that this baby deserves our excitement and fresh "eyes" on the situation, I still feel unsure about the outcome of this pregnancy and how I might cope if things don't work out.

Before I found out I was expecting, I found it really hard to learn of friends and relatives discovering they were pregnant. I have to say, that thankfully I can now be happy for people, and can even now take pleasure in looking at new babies, whereas before the pain in my heart was unbearable. I now feel jealous of those who have straight forward births and pregnancies, and also slightly angry at those who are naive enough to truly believe that these terrible things "won't happen to me". I still don't feel like I would be ready to get close to or hold a newborn though, and that feeling will remain, I am sure, for a very long time.

I think of Harry every single hour of every single day. Sometimes I think of him with a smile, and I can feel his presence with me now and again, and that is comforting. Sometimes, I get angry as I question "why?"... why did this happen to my baby? To my family? I managed to look through his belongings last week. It was as heartbreaking as I knew it would be. I let myself really cry as I held the babygrow I had cuddled him in. I breathed in his scent, and held it out to see just how tiny he was. I looked through his name tags and his christening certificate. And looked at his tiny lock of hair that the nurses cut for us. I am keeping this in the hope that one day they will have the science to bring my Harry back from his DNA. That sounds mental, but I just want him here more than anything and I read a book about this when I was at school. I can but hope....

As those of you who have been pregnant before will know, early pregnancy brings about some very vivid dreams. Some nice, some a bit crazy. I had some disturbing dreams about this baby's birth and how it felt to watch them in the NNU again. Not nice. I wasn't ready for the dreams about Harry. In the past I have dreamt about Harry and about him being on the NNU again and holding him and watching him. But this dream was different. We are currently picking out wording and choosing the material for Harry's gravestone, and this dream was about once it had been erected, and my family and I going to look at the finished article. In my dream, I had allowed everyone else to see it first, and once they had left I took a step closer and this headstone was enormous. His headstone was as big as a double bed headboard. It was black and shiny and very OTT for a baby. I was shocked. Then I saw that the grass around the headboard had been dug up and laid back down like a big duvet of turf, this was confusing. To my absolute horror, in the corner of the grass "duvet", up by the headboard/gravestone, was Harry. Like he was tucked into bed. All I could think was that someone had dug up my son, taken him out of his coffin, touched his body, disturbed his body and he was there for all to see and exposed to the wind and the rain. I was furious. Who had permitted this? Not me..... I said to Harry's Dad "What the hell is going on?!" and he said "it's ok, I'll tuck him in", and off he went to Harry's side and started to tuck the grass in like a blanket around Harry's tiny body. I was stunned and shocked. I told him I couldn't handle this and walked out of the cemetry. I woke up, sweating, scared, sad and quite disturbed. I cou;dn't go back to sleep for hours. I spoke to my counsellor about this dream. She told me that perhaps this was to do with when we were at the funeral parlour with Harry and I had dressed him and wrapped him in his blanket, and laid him in his coffin. In my head, I was "putting him to bed" and that was what I told him I was doing when I did it. I do think about that day quite a lot, especially screwing those gold screws into the lid. It was a terrible day but I knew it was something I just had to do.

Anyway, another issue that has cropped up recently, is William's reaction to this pregnancy. Remember that he is nearly three and I think that pregnancy alone is quite a lot for a three year old to comprehend, but throwing a death into the mix is going to complicate things quite a bit. Recently, William has asked his Harry is going to born at the same time as "Little Pip" and if he will be coming to live with us like the new baby. He has also, conversely, asked if "Little Pip" is going to be an angel like Harry. Very hard to explain. Tonight, he said to me "Mummy I am sad." I said "why are you sad sweetheart?" and he said "I'm sad about Harry" and he gave me a hug. No idea where that came from, but it was reassuring for William to show some emotion about the whole ordeal, rather than being just accepting of it all. It shows me he is starting to grasp the sadness of it all.

Nevertheless, we went to see the midwife today for our 16 week antenatal appointment. We got to hear "Little Pip"'s heartbeat and it was lovely and strong.

So nearly nine months on, my beautiful, sweet little Harry - I hope that you will continue watch over us and your dear brother or sister, and keep us all safe and guide us to happier times. We miss you so much that is painful. I wish, more that anything, that life could have been different and you could be sat here with me now. I hope that the angels are taking really good care of you. We love you more than words can describe - always xxxx

The rights of an unborn baby...

2013-02-04T13:49:00.000-08:00

A very different post to that of my usual blog entries, but this morning watching day time TV for a change I came across a debate that really affected me. The debate about the laws on abortion. I started to listen about the legal time limit on abortion was debated.

The law was originally passed in 1967, and the current legal time limit is 24 weeks gestation. I absolutely agreed with the lady suggesting that the date be bought forward, given that babies who are born prematurely at this same gestation now have much higher survival rates, given advances in medical research and technology. Since losing Harry, I have had the absolute priveldge of meeting many mothers of premature babies, and have heard their stories of their fight for survival and their journeys in life in their toddler years and beyond. I have found it amazing to hear how the wonders of modern medicine can basically save the lives of those teeny, tiny babies - so precious, so vunerable and so special. I was frankly shocked to hear the lady on the show saying that these babies are basically parasites of the mother and that a time limit shouldn't come into it, as the mother has the right to decide.

I am absolutely on the side that abortion should be the choice of the mother. I understand that sometimes accidents happen, and a mother should never be forced to be pregnant against her will, especially in the case of an abusive relationship, rape, etc. That being said I watched the Panorama show this evening, following on from the debate I watched earlier today, and I learnt that 1 in 3 women will have had an abortion at some stage in her life. Last year over 200,000 women chose to terminate a pregnancy. That is quite a high number considering about 700,000 babies are born each year.

While I am in support of abortion being something that women can access easily to enable them to have a control over their lives, I do think that more should be done to ensure that an unwanted pregnancy doesn't happen in the first place. Whatever happened to contraception and responsibilty in your sex life? I was truly horrified to hear the teenagers of Croydon discuss abortion so flippantly, as though it was as common as going to MacDonalds... they talked of their options as abortion being the only alternative to becoming single parent, at no point was contraception discussed as I expect it was never something that came into their heads at the point of "action". Last year, a third of abortions were repeat abortions so that just shows you that the horrific act of a termination is not enough to make these people take responsibility for their own sexual health or parental duties.

Ultimately though, a decision to terminate should be made as soon as you discover you are pregnant. Don't let the baby grow inside of you for months while you debate their future, time is truly of the essence. If you discover you are pregnant at 6-8 weeks then an appointment with a doctor can result in a termination about 2 weeks later. Therefore, I cannot understand how the legal timeframe is at 24 weeks.
I fully appreciate that a termination may need to happen to a completely planned and wanted pregnancy for medical reasons but there are so many exceptions to the abortion laws if the life of the baby is compromised, so taking medical reasons and complications out of the equation and speaking only about the "choice" issues, I really think that the 12 week limit is the most fair to the baby. Sometimes, something might occur where late discovery of pregnancy happens or circumstances change, and a longer time frame might be required so maybe, for now, a 20 week limit is a long enough time frame. I feel it should be more pressing for mothers to test for pregnancy and to make a decision, without letting it carry on until the baby is viable outside the womb to terminate.

Today I discussed this issue on my FaceBook page and learnt the very sad story of a friend of mine, who had to terminate her pregnancy due to several very sad complications with her little girl, at 16 weeks. She actually had to give birth to her baby and got to keep her blanket and take footprints of her little girl and was treated with great dignity and support. It is great to know, that in these very sad circumstances that support is there, but I do see these circumstances as something very different to those women who abort so late, because this pregnancy does suit their lifestyle. My heart goes out to all the mothers who have to abort their wanted pregnancies for medical reasons, and I truly understand the quandry that you find yourselves in, especially after having to make the devastating decision to withdraw treatment for Harry out of the love in our hearts for our baby, not wanting to cause him any more suffering or pain or trauma. That is surely the same thought process as those having to terminate on medical grounds.

I just think about my scans of William, and Harry, and our jelly-baby, and how seeing them move each time, they aren't just foetuses, they are real babies, they have life in them. How sad after 12 weeks when they can open and close their fingers, make sucking movements with their mouths and have fingerprints forming on their fingertips, that someone can decide to end their lives before they've even begun, or had the chance to begin. I feel for all my dear friends who are struggling to, or have struggled to, conceive and who desperately want to become parents to share their love with their own baby, and that so many women are flippantly aborting the lives of babies that could go on to become healthy, happy children.

It is sad that in today's world "responsibility" is rare. "I'll just go and get an abortion" was a line I have taken from tonight's show and has stuck in my head. I absolutely feel that the option should never be taken away from a woman, as you never know when that decision might be one you have to make. I would also never judge someone who had to make that very hard decision. But I do think that the responsibilty of that decision should be made so that it is done in fairness to the unborn child, not left until the baby is fully formed and made so that these women who have four, five, six abortions in their lives are adequately educated about safe sex instead of using this procedure as a form of contraception.

As a fellow bereaved parent....

2013-02-04T11:46:00.001-08:00

Before I lost Harry I had never fully realised the pain of being a bereaved parent. Obviously, experiencing the loss of your child awakens a new persona inside of you and you can sympathise with anyone experiencing a loss, as you realise that any loss is profound in it's own way. But, no loss can compare to that of losing your own child, whom you have carried for months, given birth to, and loved like you can only love your own child, with all of your being. The feeling of utter despair, emptiness and strange confusion is like no other.

It is very sad, that since Harry's passing I have come to meet a fair number of fellow bereaved parents. It always seems so wrong that a child should pass before it's parents and sadly this happens much more frequently than most realise.

Harry has been an angel for almost eight months now, and in that short time, it has come to my knowledge that my previous neighbour when I was growing up, lost a baby shortly after birth. Several of my mum's good friends had lost their babies to stillbirths. I have met several other mother's who have lost their babies to the evil vasa praevia, that cost my Harry his life. More recently, I have been in touch with a lady whose preemie baby who was born at 24 weeks, lost her fight at 13 days old, and had the same experience of saying goodbye to her little girl, as I did with Harry. Only the other weekend I met a lady at my Reiki course who was overcome with emotion when I told her about Harry, as she too lost her baby, at three months to a very sudden virus nearly twenty five years ago.

I lost my lovely friend Kate last year to a sudden heart attack, who had just months before had her beautiful daughter. I kept thinking about her mother and how the news of hearing her daughter had passed while living in London, miles away from her home in Melbourne. Her daughter that had gone away to make a career for herself in banking and had met a lovely man and started a family. The last thing you expect is to receive such a dreadful phonecall.

Very tragically, a similar thing happened to my beautiful friend's brother, Jon. He, too, was living away, in Sweden and also suffered a heart attack shortly after Christmas. I recently went to his funeral as I felt that I wanted to be there for my friend and her lovely family. Being at the funeral reminded me of the pain I experienced at Harry's funeral which seems like such a blur to me now, as the same pain was etched across the face of Jon's dear mother. What a cruel world we live in. To bring up your son, and to give him so much love, and to receive so much love from him. To watch him grow and flourish, and to live a full and rich life. Parents never expect to have to say goodbye, especially not at the age he was, in his early twenties. To hear his mother speak so highly of her beloved son and to recall such happy times, made me feel such sadness for her. I can relate to the pain she feels, as saying goodbye to Harry was so devastating and so heart wrenching, but this dear lady has had the son that she has bonded with for many years so cruelly and so shockingly taken away without the chance for a goodbye.

Since writing this blog, I have become a part of a blogging group, where other parents write about the issues they face, as either bereaved parents, or parents who have had a neonatal experience or a preemie baby. A lady who has been blogging for years about her experience of 27 weeker twins who are now toddlers, (http://www.edspire.co.uk/) has also got a nine month old little girl Matilda Mae. It was with such sadness that today I learnt that this dear lady has lost her daughter to what could be cot death. She sadly discovered her daughter, as an angel in her cot on Sunday morning. How devastating, and how tragic. All day today, she, and her family have been in my thoughts and my prayers. Nothing can prepare you for the loss of your child. Especially so unexpectedly and so sudden.

As every bereaved parent will agree, no words can really console you, but knowing that you have people who are thinking of you, and sending you their best wishes, their prayers and their support is a huge help. The void you have in your life with never be filled, and the sadness in your heart will always be there. You will never forget your dear child. You just learn to deal with the emotions you feel and you learn to remember them with a smile. That sounds crazy to someone who has recently lost, and I still have days where I am overcome with grief for my sweet boy. But I am still very early in my journey and with every passing day, it does get a little easier. I have been very lucky to have the support of so many wonderful people and it does help enormously. I hope, to all my fellow bereaved parents, that you too can find superb support as well, and that you can take little steps on your journeys, and that in some way I can offer a little hand to hold along the way. xxxx

Harry's Tough Guys

2013-01-28T12:55:00.001-08:00

As fundraisers go, I think the "Tough Guy UK" competition is one of the most extreme.

A team of six crazy guys got together and created "Harry's Tough Guys", fundraising for the Trust.

They competed (and completed) in the "Tough Guy UK" challenge on Sunday, 27th January in Wolverhampton, with 4,359 other competitors, out of which 3,650 finished. Many couldn't finish the event due to serious injuries, shock and hypothermia, one competitor even sadly lost his life at the event.

Left to right:
James Nicholls, Scotty Parker, Jamie Cunningham, JJ Maher, Keith Williams, Andy Fairbanks

Here is some more infomation about the course:

Tough Guy claims to be the world's most demanding one-day survival ordeal.

First staged in 1987, the Tough Guy Challenge is held on a 600-acre (2.42 square km) farm in Perton, Staffordshire, near Wolverhampton, England, and is organised by Billy Wilson (using the pseudonym "Mr. Mouse"). It has been widely described as "the toughest race in the world", with up to one-third of the starters failing to finish in a typical year.

After 25 stagings of the winter event, Wilson still claimed nobody had ever finished the course according to his extremely demanding rules. The race, and its summer equivalent, has suffered two fatalities during its history.

Taking place at the end of January, often in freezing winter conditions, the Tough Guy race is staged over a course of between seven and eight miles (about 12 kilometres). It consists of a cross-country run followed by an assault course, claimed to be tougher than any other worldwide, featuring 25 obstacles, including a slalom run up and down a hill, ditches, jumps, freezing water pools, fire pits and so on (see detail below). The organizers claim that running the course involves risking barbed wire, cuts, scrapes, burns, dehydration, hypothermia, acrophobia, claustrophobia, electric shocks, sprains, twists, joint dislocation and broken bones.

Although the course is adjusted each year, its features have included a 40-foot (12.2 metres) crawl through flooded underground tunnels, balancing planks across a fire pit, and a half-mile wade through chest-deep muddy water. Marshals dressed as commandos fire amphibious tank gun blanks and let off exploding flares and smoke bombs over the heads of competitors as they crawl under a 70-metre section of barbed wire.

Sounds horrendous. I knew when Harry's Dad signed up for it that it was going to be a difficult challenge, the more I read about the event and the more videos and pictures I looked at online, the more I began to fear for the health and the safety of the team.

The day came and I was more than a little worried about the prospect of neck deep, icy water, the running in ankle deep mud, the barbed wire, the fire and the electric shocks. But I also knew, that the Harry's Dad and his team, absolutely had the right frame of mind to get them through. Harry's Dad has a very realistic approach to life, no nonsense, no frills, no airs and graces, you know where you are with him - good or bad. I knew that he wouldn't take any passengers but I also knew that he would make sure that his team didn't wind up feeling sorry for themselves and letting them straggle behind. He had always said that they would all help each other throughout and carry each other where neccessary. It was those qualities, in Harry's Dad and also the other team members, that gave me confidence that they would all complete the course.

They certainly weren't in it to win it, but they all managed to get to the finish line in one piece, and while a few of the team looked like they might have needed treatment for hypothermia they all took care of each other and all came home with just a few sore spots and grazes.

Here are a few quotes from the team about their experience that I thought were quite touching:

[Scotty Parker] The tough guy experience was honestly the most hardest thing I have ever done physically and mentally, but the most rewarding feeling especially knowing the fight little Harry had and we were fighting for him. I was so cold in the ice lakes we swam , colder than I've ever been, even skiing in -20 conditions , the slaloms were exhausting whilst trying to fight against the people, the gradient and the wet thick mud but the most painful was the electric fence shocking my head- but I'll be doing it again next year!! ( although I didn't quite say that yesterday!!)

[JJ Maher] I am Jamie's best friend and have known him for thirteen years.We first met at bicton college.So the harry cunningham trust is very close to my heart.This was the second time I have done tough guy.The first time I did it was back in 2010.When i was younger and fitter and to prove a point that i was tough enough to complete the course.This time it was not about me.It was all about Harry,Niki,Jamie and William.Trying to raise money and awareness for the harry cunningham trust.It was tougher this time around.Don't know whether that was due to being older and abusing my body more.Also more mud and water,which seemed more extreme!I knew I had to keep going otherwise I would let down them,it was not about me this time.So through the pain and discomfort I thought of Harry and the family and there was no comparison.What i was feeling could not remotely come close to what they have been through and continue too go through.So i kept pushing myself to go harder and faster.This was my motivation throughout the race.

[Andy Fairbanks] The most painful experience of my life but there was no way I'd have quit, the cold water was at times unbearable and with 1km to go, I thought I might not make it but I did, we did and the (Harry Cunningham) Trust grows stronger with every event.

Lastly, a big thank you to Pete Moss at Woodbury Garage for very kindly allowing the team to use their mini bus for the event, and also to Steve Worth at ProServe in Exmouth for all their help with printing the shirts for the team.

And very finally, a huge well done to all of Harry's Tough Guy. I am one very proud lady today to say that a team representing my charity, not only got out there and raised a heck of a lot of cash for a worthy cause, and also a load of awareness for our efforts, but also put themselves in a world of pain and pushed themselves to the absolute limits all in the name of my little man, and for that, I am truly grateful and in awe of each one of them. Thank you for making me, and Harry, very proud xxxx

The Fear

2013-01-22T08:13:00.001-08:00

Not the same kind of fear as sung about by Lily Allen, although she knows how I feel, wholeheartedly, being a fellow baby loss mummy going on to have further pregancies.

Last week my hyperemesis kicked off again, and after 24 hours of throwing up until there was nothing left and I was bringing up my own stomach acid, I was hospitalised, and given an IV of fluids and an anti-sickness shot. I was in for two nights while I rehydrated and got my strength back. As I am still very early on in my pregnancy (10 weeks today) I was not in the maternity section of the hospital, but the gynae section and was frankly, shocked at the treatment I received given my history.

Since losing Harry I have been given a lot of choice, about how my pregnancy is managed, who I see for my scans, which midwife I want to take care of me, etc. and the care I have received, on the whole, has been first class, and has gone some way to restore my faith in the healthcare professionals.

When I arrived at the hospital, I spoke to the receptionist and explained how my GP had referred me and the receptionist explained "they'd been expecting me". I thought "great, they have my notes, they know my history, things will be ok". No..... within minutes of being admitted, I was being asked the ever awkward question of "is this your first pregnancy?" No, this is my third. Hoping, that would prompt a little glance at my notes, the questions continued... "oh, lovely, so who has your other two children?" Really???! "Well, my mum has my eldest and my youngest sadly died shortly after he was born". "Oh right...." How odd... why aren't they reading my notes? My midwife and I spent a long time writing them, so why aren't you reading them? I know that on the front of my hospital notes is a special baby loss sticker.... why is it not being recognised??! These questions would come at least ten times a day and in the end, I got used to just answering on auto pilot, but the surprising thing for me was the lack of compassion from the nurses and doctors, when I told them my baby had died. Either they were too awkward to show any emotion, or they are so used to dealing with women who have lost their baby that this is the way they act with all bereaved parents. Either way, this is not good enough.

Sadly, having been out of hospital just about 48 hours, I discovered a bleed first thing in the morning. Absolutely panic stricken, I had no idea who to turn to. At 9 1/2 weeks pregnant, I do not come under the care of the labour ward that you would usually call in an emergency, and as it was a weekend I knew I wouldn't get hold of a community midwife.... who do I ring? I rang the labour ward anyway and asked who I should consult. They said it wasn't them and I should try the out of hours GP... who is usually forgein and again has absolutely no compassion for the fact I have suffered the loss of my baby? She advised that I will need to be checked over and that I would need to receive an emergency scan. My worst fear confirmed. There was something to worry about. Have I lost this baby too? My heart pounding in my chest, I can barely speak and I burst into tears. "While I can't say that bleeding at this stage in pregnancy is normal, I know a lot of women do have light bleeds and go on to have perfectly healthy babies".... not normal.... is all I can hear. What have I done to deserve this God?
I don't want to speak to an unknown GP so I ring the ward I stayed in for my hyperemesis and explained. The kind nurse let me speak to their oncall Doctor and she organised an "emergency scan". Being an "emergency" you would expect some kind of rush and maybe a same day appointment. No, four days later! She booked me in for Tuesday and that seemed like a lifetime away.

Every passing hour since suffering the bleed, I was scared to go to the toilet incase I found more. Any pain, any niggle, I thought was confirming my worst fear that I was losing our rainbow. I felt hopeless. Nothing anyone could say or do would make me feel any better until I could have confirmed that our little ray of sunshine was still ok.

Anyway, I got to the hospital and somehow, the appointment had been booked for the Wednesday and immediately I felt let down. Lucky for them, they managed to squeeze me in. After a 45 minute wait, I was shown into the screening room. There was a foreign man who looked like the gynae Doctor who had seen me during Harry's labour. I was about to make a fuss but thought I should try not to let it bother me. Anyway, the Doctor didn't want to tuck the tissue paper into my clothes as he mentioned a colleague of his had been struck off for over exposing a lady and he now doesn't do it, for fear of the same. I said "Well I do find that surprising, as there are people still practising who have done far worse than that...." well that went down like a lead balloon. My sonographer asked why I was there and I explained I'd had a bleed, her face looked like she couldn't care less. I explained I lost my last baby at term and I am, as a result, very anxious. Still, no concern. Shocked at their absolute lack of compassion, I sat back and let the scan commence. The Doctor says "ah yes, here is the little baby" ..... nothing else....Straining to see the monitor, I say "and is his heart beating??!" "Yes, all is ok", he says. "Can you sit back and relax please?" Are you kidding me? I want to see for myself that my baby is ok.....Can I relax?? No I cannot... The sonographer thought the bleed could've been from the placenta implanting. "Is everything ok with the placenta?" She mentioned something to the Doctor but they wouldn't elaborate. "It's just my last baby had placental problems so I just want to know..." Still nothing... "Everything's fine".... I explained what happened with Harry's cord and the sonographer just said "well it is hard to see everything on a scan".... I got angry "Well actually it is hopefully going to be included at routine scanning as a result of my campaigning so you will be learning about it very soon I expect"... the arrrogant woman just told me that as she is an early pregnancy sonographer she didn't think she would. I wish I was more confident and could have told her to just bugger off.

It's a shame that after all I have been through, and all I have been promised, people in that hospital are still arrogant, still complacent and still NOT READING PATIENT'S NOTES.

At least my little jelly bean is all well, and the little bleed was nothing to be concerned about, but I honestly think this pregnancy is not going to one I can "sit back and enjoy" as every single day is an anxiety attack, as all I want is to hold my healthy baby in my arms, and until that day every single little niggle or unusual symptom is going to cause me massive concern and worry.

Anxiety & Grief

2013-01-09T13:41:00.002-08:00

I was an anxious parent before Harry. I was an anxious parent before William was born! Every single niggle or strange pain would have me panicking.

Imagine how I felt when I was in labour with Harry and everything SEEMED to be fine, and my midwife came into the room and said "I guess it's time to have and check and see how dilated you are" four and a half hours after my waters broke. I had an epidural and catheter fitted so it was a struggle to position myself up the bed without the use of my legs. I was just in a nightie after my waters had gone as I had no use of my legs it would be near on impossible to get my knickers up and down for examinations. I whipped off the blanket covering my dignity for my midwife to see how my labour was progressing to be utterly horrified to see my legs, and the bedsheets, absolutely soaked in bright, red blood. "Oh my God" I said, wide eyed, staring at my Mum. "Look!" I was stunned. The midwife looked and said "oh I expect that is a little nick from when I catheterised you"..... wow, a little nick had bled a fair bit, I remember thinking. But she didn't seem bothered so my panic subsided. I carried on chatting with my Mum as the midwife left the room and was busying around, there seemed to be no issue about the bleed. Suddenly, a very concerned looking Matron appeared and said she wanted to examine me and see what was going on. At this time Harry's heart rate was fine. She examined me, and they disappeared. Nothing seemed to be of any real concern. My midwife appeared and explained she was going to place a clip on Harry's head to ensure his heart rate was monitored accurately. She did that, and disappeared again.
hen all of a sudden, a male doctor comes in and introduces himself and out of the blue I am being shown some emergency c section consent forms. Bewildered about what on earth was going on, I signed them. They explained that the bleed could be putting me at risk during the labour and the best thing to do was to just get baby out. I had really dreaded the thought of a c section. I think a lot of anxiety around the procedure is created in antenatal classes. They talk about the impact of the anathestic on the baby, and how the procedure can go wrong and there is a chance of maternal death. Sadly, my own mother had a dreadful experience with a c section when she had my brother, and to be frank all I could think of whilst I was wheeled away to theatre was "I hope that doesn't happen to me"... I also thought that my life was in danger but as I felt fine in myself I just said to Jamie "tell them not to worry about me, just make sure the baby is ok"... Then as we were wheeled up to the theatre I heard the tick, tick, tick, tick of Harry's steady heart rate slow down to an almost stop. I swear, the fear that pumped through my body at that moment will live with me until my dying day. I remember thinking "oh my god, that's not good, do something, someone!" and looking at the faces peering over me with the same concerned expression.
Anyway, the procedure was underway very quickly and after a lot of rummaging in my stomach (which was hideous and so uncomfortable, imagine hands fondling your organs, not nice - an epidural doesn't block the sensation, just the pain!) Harry was born and we were told it was a boy. No sound. Nothing. I remember thinking all would be ok as William was born blue with his cord around his neck and needed to be resuscitated but was soon crying and passed to us for a cuddle, once I'd been stitched up. This time we waited and waited, just being told our son was very poorly. And no real information.

This whole scenario was so horrendous and the stuff of nightmares, yet, at least once a day, I go over it. Step by step, remembering the exact feelings I felt throughout the whole experience. It has absolutely scarred me. The shock. I was not prepared for this at all. You always hear of very sad stories or hideous conditions or problems, but you ALWAYS just think that'd never happen to me, either naively or ignorantly.

The knock on effect now for me is that my parenting of William has been impacted. I am so fearful for William, any slight injury or illness and I am in a spin.
Since losing Harry I have had two memorable melt downs with William:
The first time was when William was in my bedroom, a couple of months after we'd lost Harry. I'd told him he needed a shower "cos he stinks" and had been teasing him and tickling him and being generally silly. He ran from the ensuite into the bedroom shouting "I stink! I stink!" and tripped over the door wedge holding the bedroom door back and went flying head first into the angled corner of my bed. Smack and crunch, and he bounced backwards. He didn't move. He was limp. I leaped forward and scooped him up, he wasn't responding. I freaked out. I started to feel my pulse in my head, and began to sweat and utterly lost my breath. It just so happened that days before the bloody cam belt had gone in my car so I was car-less and panic set in, in a big way. It was early in the morning, who do I call? By this time, he had cried loudly and in obvious pain but then he stopped crying and started to snuggle into me. I called my nan and said "Nan! Nan! It's William!" I remembered someone once telling me not to let someone who'd suffered a head injury to fall asleep. "Can you take me to the hospital? He's had an accident and he's not himself", Nan said to me "I've just got out the shower, I'll be right over"... How cruel of me to drag my 72 year old Nan out of her flat and with dripping went hair she rushed over to mine (thankfully just around the corner!!!). By the time Nan had got to me William had perked up a bit, and Nan felt like it would be a bit silly to take him to the hospital now. But I honestly was thinking "I can't lose another one" and just feared the worst. He was fine, just had a bit of a dent and a bruise for a few days. The second time William had a bit of a temperature, and seemed a bit warm and sweaty. I thought to myself that he was quite warm, but told myself to stop being the anxious mum and to let him get on with it. He was fine in himself so I left him. Later on, he started to get a bit clingy and cuddly. He was still quite warm on his forehead but when I put my hand on his back it was on fire! Such a lot of heat coming from such a little body! I took his temp and it was "high fever" on the thermometer, so gave him some calpol. A bit later on he started to cry a bit and suddenly went really floppy and non-responsive. I thought maybe I should take him to the doctors as the calpol wasn't making any difference at all, so called the doctors and they got me in straight away. The doctor knew all about Harry and what had happened and I said "look I am sorry if I am wasting your time with a toddler with a temperature, but I am very anxious after what happened with Harry" just as a sat down with William in my lap he was kind of dosing and acting really weird, the doctor took his temperature and said "you've done the right thing in bringing him in, we'd usually send you to hospital with a temperature like this but I think that might do you more harm than good, so just take him home and put him in front of a fan in just his nappy and if that doesn't work at bringing his temperature down then we might have to take him up to Exeter". I'd gone from being so worried in my own little ways to having my fears confirmed that things weren't looking good. My sister had a fit from overheating when she was a toddler and the doctor was asking if Wills had fitted, and that this was the kind of temperature they would expect to see fits but if he hadn't yet at this heat then he probably wouldn't. Panic, panic, panic. I was so afraid that something terrible was going to happen to my precious little man. A few hours after getting home and sat in front of a fan in just his nappy he started to cool down, and the doctors rang me that night, the following day and the day after to check on Wills. I definitely felt supported but I think perhaps I over-reacted due to my super high anxiety.

I read something a while ago about a lady who was teaching her class about bullying, and gave them a piece of paper and asked them to crumple it up into a ball, and then to try and flatten it out again, and to smooth out the creases. And said that is what it is like for someone who has been bullied, the scars may look like they have smoothed out but they never truly disappear.

This is exactly what this experience has done to me. I have been crumpled and damaged to my very core, and no matter how I appear on the outside or how much I move on with my life, I will always carry the scars of Harry's death and the grief I feel for his loss with be with me forever.

Now that I am pregnant again, I have increased anxiety about this baby. I feel like getting through each day without suffering a massive bleed or cramping is a huge step. I met with my midwife this week for my "booking appointment" and I had to relive my pregnancies with Wills and Harry and I think she was amazed at how complicated my history is. While I know that I am going to receive a lot of extra attention this time around, I am also hugely aware of all the problems that can occur in pregnancy: early miscarriages, birth defects, stillbirths, prematurity issues... it's not the vasa previa that concerns me, it's everything else. I know so much now, maybe too much, but I am certainly not taking any of this pregnancy for granted. I have lost one baby and cannot bear to lose another, but will not be ignorant or naive this time around and will be informed and prepared to make the right decisions for my new little one.

Our Christmas Wish....

2013-01-04T13:31:00.001-08:00

Firstly I would like to apologise for the lack of blogging during December. It was a very strange month for me. I was constantly being caught out by grief - my first proper milestones without Harry were hitting me hard.

We had Harry's six month "angel-versary" and that was a strange time. Reflecting on the time we have spent without Harry and what we have achieved, but also remembering our very short time together and cherishing those memories and also imagining the life that Harry, and all of his family, would have had if things worked out differently.

Grandy &William singing "Jingle Bells" for Harry - with Harry's decorations

Christmas was a strange time. I worked hard at keeping Christmas as normal as I could for William, teaching him about Santa, putting up the decorations, writing Christmas cards (which was hard in itself as I so badly wanted to include Harry, but in the end felt it wasn't right), buying gifts and wrapping gifts. There were a few things I couldn't bring myself to do which included attending my annual candle lit church carol service, as it would be my first time back in the church we held Harry's funeral, and also the words of the hymns were too much for me. And also Christmas cookery: I believe that cooking should be done with love, and my heart wasn't in it this year, so enjoyed Mum's cooking instead ;-) . On Christmas Eve, we all went up to the castle as a family and decorated the tree next to Harry's grave with beautiful decorations and Christmas messages. I put a little tree with blue jingle bells on it, on Harry's grave and some lovely "in memory" Christmas cards as well. On Christmas Day we visited Harry and at several points during the day I felt overwhelmed with sadness, thinking of what Harry was missing and how he should be enjoying his first ever Christmas with us.

William excited about putting out the mince pie and carrots, milk

and letter to Santa on Christmas Eve

I have found it incredibly hard hearing about others getting pregnant. It seems like everyone around me is pregnant. I find it very hard to be excited for those people, as I can only worry for them. I worry that things won't go to plan, and these people will be heart broken as I was. I find it hard to hear of people getting excited about their scans, because now all I can think about with ultrasounds is that it is no longer just an opportunity to get a photo of your baby and a glimpse inside your belly, but a very serious medical appointment to ensure the health of you and your baby.

Anyway, after the disappointment of my last "monthly" and the devastation that bought me after getting my hopes up I had decided to do all I could the next month and then to put it to the back of my mind after the "fertile time" was over. I took my medication, I took my prenatals, I tried hard not to think about it too much and put ourselves under too much pressure. I prayed after Harry's angelversary that he would send us a rainbow and show us he was watching over us.

The weeks passed, and I tried hard not to think about things too much. I was late. And this time I did not want to raise my hopes like I did last time, only to shatter my dreams again, but I thought the only way to know is to take a test. I bought a test. I was scared to take it. "What if I am too early? What if I get a negative because it's too early and I let myself down again? But what if it really is a negative and I get my period again and then we will be starting all over again?" Did I really want to know? Do I really want that horrendous empty feeling all over again? I put away my groceries and left the test on the side. I made William his lunch, and sat down with him. I thought "oh bugger it, I will take the test, and it is what it is".... I took the test and the test line came up immediately but nothing in the result window. Great, another negative.
I went upstairs to get some laundry and came back to sit with William, and looked at the test again. Wait a minute, there's a line in the result window. There's a line?! There's a line! Oh my god. I can barely believe my eyes. I call Harry's Dad - he doesn't believe me, either! My mum comes over for a cuppa and as she sits down I show her "what would you do if I showed you this?" I said, putting the test infront of her. She was excited but also apprehensive. I am still in shock. "What does this mean?" I am thinking. Wow, we are having another baby... Or are we? Are we going to get excited and plan the life of a new baby, only to have it snatched away so cruelly? Our Christmas wish for a rainbow baby had come true...!

I told a few friends our news. I found it very hard, as they would all be so overjoyed for us to finally have some hope in our lives, but I was still in shock and disbelief. This is happening again? Can I allow myself to be happy? I want so badly to be happy, and to enjoy being pregnant, as I know how much we wanted this and how so many other people would give their right arm to be expecting too. I also feel overwhelmed with guilt, for Harry. He should be with us. I shouldn't have to be feeling this way as I should be enjoying him. And I am sure he will be watching over this baby, but I hope he never feels as though this baby is a replacement for him or that he will be loved any less, or thought about any less now that we are expecting again.

Today I went to the hospital, with my Dad, and had little rainbow baby's first scan. I have been given an "early pregnancy scan" at approx 8 weeks. All is well, there is a little "pregnancy sac" and a tiny little baby, just one centimetre long, with a little flickering heartbeat. He looks like a kidney bean. Bless him (or her!). I met with my consultant and we have decided that, emotionally, I won't be able to experience labour ever again, so will be having a planned c-section around 37 weeks, all being well. So we are looking at end of July, beginning of August.

Little Rainbow Baby aged 7 1/2 weeks

It is going to be a very tough old journey, and whilst I can see a light at the end of the tunnel, I feel like it is so far away and I won't be able to be completely happy until I have this baby in my arms, healthy and well.

Reflecting on the year gone by...

2012-12-31T12:20:00.004-08:00

Highlights and Lowlights:

The end of the most horrendous year, for not just me, but my entire family. I don't think we will ever encounter another year worse than this year. I don't think much worse things can happen, unless we have a replica of what happened but that is thankfully most unlikely.

The whole year wasn't dreadful though.

It began badly, being admitted to hospital with severe hyperemesis gravidarum (sickness) - I hadn't kept anything down for 4-5 days and it had been over 24 hours of throwing up even sips of water. I was admitted to hospital to go on a drip and get my fluids and salts etc back up. It was the admission to hospital that made me tell my employers at the time that I was pregnant, earlier than I had wanted to. It went horribly wrong after they knew I was expecting, and made life incredibly difficult for me. I was also suffering terribly with SPD (symphysis pubis dysfunction), and decided that in the end dealing with the SPD, the sickness and the stress of idiotic employers that the best thing to do was to quit work. It was stressful financially at first but we soon settled into things.

A good time however was our first foreign family holiday. Taking William to Benalmedena was certainly not the usual sun holiday that I had been used to, but it was a lot of fun and we really bonded. The weather was great, the food was great, and we went to some really fab tourist attractions, like watching dolphins performing to music and holding a baby croc!

My birthday was not great. I had got to a point where I was so uncomfortable and really had enough of being pregnant. Harry was lying awkwardly as we now know he couldn't engage and carrying him around was getting very difficult. I had a lovely visit from a good friend visiting from London, but we had to cancel the romantic meal we had planned as I was feeling so dreadful.

You all know the story around my going into labour, and the birth of Harry and the terrible, sad events that followed.
If you want to remind yourself here is the story in full: http://missingharry.blogspot.co.uk/p/harrys-story.html

Other memorable points throughout the year were the events for the Harry Cunningham Trust : the walk, the fete, the ball.

As well as all the fantastic awareness we have raised for the condition vasa previa, and the work with the National Screening Committee to hopefully begin screening pregnant women in 2014.

See here for the highlights of my media efforts thus far:

http://www.harrycunninghamtrust.co.uk/in-the-media.php

Lessons Learnt:

Don't take anything for granted
In times of hardship, you learn who your true friends are
When hearing horror stories while pregnant, never assume that these things happen to other people, and not you.... It can so easily be you.
The grief journey is one that never ends, or gets easier
You will remember the one you have lost every single day
Do not test the patience of those grieving
Watch what you say to those who have lost: nothing will make things better, saying things like "you're young you can have another baby", "well he was poorly, it was for the best", or "let's try to forget about it" are NOT helpful
When someone has lost a baby at any stage of their pregnancy, it is still a loss. They are still grieving. Bear that in mind if you conceive before they do... it is an incredibly hard time and being happy for pregnant women when you are grieving the loss of your baby, at any stage, is more than difficult.

Hopes for 2013:

To continue to fundraise with the Harry Cunningham Trust
Raise further awareness of vasa previa and hopefully include the screenings at the 20 week scan for those women at risk
To remember Harry in positive ways
To spend more time with those who mean a lot
To enjoy every minute with William
To be happy....

TV Adverts! Do they drive you mad?!

2012-12-01T12:42:00.000-08:00

Just wanted to share something that I have found myself feeling these past few weeks, being bombarded with kids toy adverts on tv pretty much all day long.

So, I see the baby doll adverts... Seeing these little girls cooing over their dolls, rocking them to sleep, feeding them, changing their nappies. I remember loving my dolls when I was little. I used to love feeding them their bottle, with the milk that disappeared, dressing them in the lovely dresses I had for them, tucking them into their pram or cot.... It was my favourite game. And when I was little, all I wanted to be when I grew up (apart from an actress or ballet dancer) was to be a mummy. Just like my mummy. And I do feel really lucky to be a mummy, as I know so many people who are struggle with that life-dream. But, I wonder if I am alone when I see these adverts for these dolls now, when I think gosh I hope these little girls don't ever have their mummy dreams smashed to bits like I have. I hope they don't dream of being a mummy and get their hopes up, only to have them snatched away, moments after giving birth to their baby that they loved so dearly... I have to snap myself out of these thoughts as I worry about them eating away at me. I am told by my counsellor that these feelings aren't MY feelings, they are my grief, and they will pass in time.

I hope they do...

Watching bloody Pampers adverts gets me too, or formula milk adverts. A new mother in the blissful moments with her baby. I feel jealous. I had wanted those moments with Harry, and I didn't get them. I was cheated out of those moments, and here are those mothers parading their happiness on my TV. Ugh....

The one that was the most horrifying though, was watching an advert for a game called Dino Bite. A game where you are saving the baby dinosaurs from the massive T-Rex trying to eat them... And I quote from the advert "if you don't save the babies in time, you lose!".............. you lose? OK that's great. I lose my baby, so I am the loser. I remember sitting there after the advert a bit confused. Great. I am the bloody loser.

The support of the Great British public

2012-11-30T06:39:00.002-08:00

I was in the local corner shop this morning and I read a headline on the front of a newspaper about the sniper who was jailed for possessing an unlicenced firearm, that he had bought back from war. The headline read "freed, thanks to the support of the Great British public".
This got me thinking about my campaign and my desire to raise awareness of the condition I was not diagnosed with until after Harry's birth, and about the importance of including screening for this condition for pregnant women. I need the support of the Great British public!

Now I know I have been Miss Media these past few weeks with my appearance on Sky News last week, my Daily Mail article and the fab piece in the Huffington Post but I need MORE! I need more mothers to know about the risk factors for vasa previa, and to have the knowledge to ask to be screened, to prevent the chance of other babies being taken too soon, like little Harry. I am on the case with the Screening Committee and have a good rapport going with those who are leading the review, which is currently under way.

I am looking for AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE to read this letter below and to sign the e-petition to show their support for the inclusion of the screening in antenatal care for expectant mothers:

Dear all parents, would-be parents and anyone with an ounce of compassion;

If you have children of your own, think back to the time that you first held your baby. That magic moment, where you are consumed with love, adoration and amazement.

Imagine if that moment was completely different and you were faced with talks of severe brain damage and organ failure, and the likely possibility that your beautiful newborn baby was likely not going to survive.

Remember the joy of coming home with your gorgeous baby all bundled up in the wonderful going-home outfit, with plans for registering your babies birth, lots of visitors and coo-ing. Imagine, if instead you were returning home, empty handed, devastated, having to register a birth and a death, and then having to plan a baby's funeral.

All the hopes and dreams for your child, shattered and cruely ended so quickly, before you even have a chance to fully realise what is going on.

But - imagine if there was something you could do to prevent babies -like Harry - from suffering such utter devastation, and all that something was, was to have an additional 2 minutes at your ultrasound scan at 20 weeks. Is it not far more important to know that your baby is safe for delivery than to discover what sex your baby is? And, what if you, personally, could do something to ensure that pregnant women are scanned for this condition, which is more common than Downs Syndrome? (Downs screening is currently offered to EVERY pregnant woman and is far more invasive than the check for vasa previa)

All you have to do, is SHOW YOUR SUPPORT and sign this e-petition.

Show those who are currently deciding whether this is something that should be screened for that you are in favour of this. It takes two minutes to complete. Now, think of that precious moment of meeting your baby, and imagine all those little vasa previa babies that could be diagnosed with your support today - and go on to live full, happy and healthy life. All it takes is two minutes to diagnose a future.

Thank you

Niki Cunningham

Gifts of Christmas

2012-11-25T12:11:00.001-08:00

This year, I have lost my enthusiasm for the festive period. Usually, you can't hold me back.

I love Christmas cooking, writing out cards and messages to friends who aren't seen as often as they should be, wrapping presents, Christmas church services, getting out the decorations, buying gifts, Christmas parties...

I've lost the love. I need to find some enthusiasm for the sake of William. He is really starting to understand the concept of Christmas so everything Christmas related is terribly exciting. I obviously love seeing him fascinated with Christmas decorations, or Christmas songs, stories of Santa Claus and he is the reason that I am able to get through it all.

I discussed my feelings about this festive season with my counsellor at the hospital. She asked me "what does Christmas mean to you?" - well for me, it is all about family. Spending time together. Making memories, keeping traditions. Maybe that is why I am finding it especially hard. The new part of our family that we were all looking forward to, is missing from our Christmas time. I feel angry about this. My son should be unwrapping his first presents, being utterly spoiled by family and friends, maybe even having a taste of his first Christmas dinner. Instead, we will be visiting his grave side and bringing small gifts to him there.

She said what about the baby Jesus? Do I find that reminder hard? For once, I don't find the baby association hard. I may do closer to Christmas when I go to church for the carol service and nativity plays. I remember in years gone by, finding the words of the readings about Mary giving birth and her pregnancy especially poignant after I had William. I felt the magic of motherhood in the Christmas story. Now I can't feel any magic. Just emptiness. My body betrayed me. My stupid body grew my placenta abnormally, and caused this horrific event. I like to attend church at Christmas to thank God for all I have in my life. But I don't know if I will this year. The church we held Harry's funeral. Thanking God? I don't feel like thanking God at the moment. It all seems so wrong. Why did this happen to my family? Why is my little boy's body up in the cemetry and his spirit with the angels? Why is it my boy? What have I done to deserve this? All questions I struggle to get my head around. I believe everything happens for a reason, and can't fathom the reason behind all this grief. Not just mine, either.

I decorated the Christmas tree yesterday, to try to encourage some festive cheer in myself. I always love it, and I did love it but with each decoration I faught back the tears. We have a huge part of our Christmas missing, and I almost feel wrong wanting to celebrate this time of year, when I should be missing Harry. Christmas focuses so much on the children and it is a reminder again that there is a child missing out on a wonderful day. I found William's special tree decoration; a blue one with "baby's first christmas" written on it. I found it so hard to place that one on the tree, as I couldn't help thinking that this should be for Harry this year. This is so much harder than I imagined it would be. I have seen a lovely silver Christmas tree decoration that you can use hand prints from your little one on, with their name on that I would like. Probably for next year as, being silver, they aren't cheap. I don't want Harry to be forgotten during Christmas, and he obviously won't be, but I think I would to include Harry in our Christmas traditions going forward.

I haven't bought any presents yet and therefore haven't wrapped any. Mainly due to budget constraints, but also due to the fact that if I start Christmas shopping, then I will be accepting Christmas, and I feel odd about that. I have bought some cards but haven't found the motivation to write them. Usually my cards would have a little run down of my year, maybe some photographs. I don't really feel much like doing that this year. Everyone on my Christmas list knows about Harry, but I feel like this year has been so strange and bizarre, that I don't fancy writing about it, in a cheery way.

I read a lovely blog called "Hello Grief" which has lots of really helpful ideas to those grieving. I read one idea about Christmas which helped me:

Find ways to acknowledge and remember the person who died. There are many ways to honor a person’s memory during the holidays, either by carrying on traditions or creating new ones. Here are some ideas to consider. What feels comforting is just as unique as grief, so choose the ones that feel right to you and your children.

Light a memorial candle. Consider their favorite color or scent when choosing a candle or decorate a votive. Invite children and other friends/family to share memories.

Write a card or letter to the person who died. You can also write a card to yourself from the person who died using the words or distinct phrases that are missed and loved.

On strips of paper write memories that family members have of the person who died or special gifts that person left with you. Loop the paper strips to create a chain. Those who wish can read their memories out loud as they add them to the chain.

Wrap small empty boxes in holiday wrap. On each gift tag write a gift that person has left you with, i.e. courage, special stuffed animal, piece of jewelry, strength, a skill, etc. Make a special pile, and add to it as you recall more “gifts” this person has left to each of you.

Hang a special decoration in memory of the person, such as a wreath or stocking. If a stocking is used, family members can place memories inside the stocking.

Buy a gift that the person would have liked to receive and donate it to a charity or social organization.

Wrap a big box in holiday wrap and make an opening in the top large enough to push paper notes through. Family members and friends can write memories and messages and place them in the box throughout the season. At a special time the box can be unwrapped and the memories/gifts shared with each other.

Keep a place setting at the table during a special holiday meal. Encourage each family member to decorate the place setting with something special, such as a flower, poem, card or memento.

Create a memorabilia table or corner where you can place photos, stuffed animals, toys, cards, foods, and any other kinds of mementos that remind you of your loved one.

Share a meal of the person’s favorite foods. If possible, involve your children in the preparation. Food can be a great spark for talking about memories and stories.

In all of this, keep in mind that there is no right or wrong way to handle a holiday, only what feels right for your unique family. Some people want to keep traditions while others prefer to do something completely out of the ordinary. Perhaps your family will choose something in between, a mixture of old and new.

I love all these ideas, and think that a lot of these will be really good ways of remembering Harry during our Christmas period.

I know that Christmas can be really hard at the best of times, but this year (along with thinking of Harry) my thoughts will be with all those families with an empty seat at the table, through death or separation. It is so hard but I hope that it will bring everyone closer, in everyone's journey through this painful time.

Supporting "World Prematurity Day"

2012-11-16T13:21:00.001-08:00

When Harry was born and taken to the neonatal unit, I experienced some very strange emotions and feelings, that I had not experienced after having William.
I had gone from being pregnant and expecting a healthy baby to suddenly having my hopes and dreams shattered.
Being the "control freak" that I am, it was very strange to have my newborn baby taken away and be cared for in his early days by a) someone I'd never met, b) away from my watchful eyes, c) carrying out procedures I had never heard of and didn't understand.
It was very strange. I wanted to see my baby. To hold him. To take him in, his smell, his face, his sounds.
Not just that, but the fear of what the outcome might be. Waiting for those three hours to learn the prognosis for our son was a strange time. Hoping for the best. The not knowing.

This experience is not exclusive to parents who give birth to a baby who has experienced a birth trauma. Parents who are thrown in to the world of premature babies experience the same emotions.

So as a "neonatal user" I have become a member of a wonderful group of parent, SNUG, at Exeter's hospital. (Supporting Neonatal Users and Graduates). Since being a part of this group I have had my eyes opened to a new view on parenting: the premature baby parenting. Tomorrow is the World Prematurity Day and after meeting some wonderful parents of premature babies I thought I would do my bit by spreading the word about premature babies.

What a lot of pregnant women don't realise is that having a prem baby could quite easily happen to them. 15 million babies each year are born prematurely, and 60,000 of those are in the UK. That is a lot. Please take a look at the Bliss website with more information about World Prematurity Day and what they are trying to achieve.

These mothers are thrown into a crazy world, and to help you understand a view point of how that feels I have selected a few birth stories from the blogs that I read for you to see the birth stories of a few premmie mums. I hope you will have a read, these women write so well and each of their stories is fascinating, emotive and they are so brave to share their stories with others:

Diary of A Premmy Mum

Mummy Pink Wellies

Not Even A Bag OfSugar

Nearly Everything But The Kitchen Sink

Life According To Heidi

BeadZoid

A lot of people say to me "wow you are so strong", "you are so brave", "I couldn't do what you're doing".... well, the strength I have is similar to the strength required by premmie mums. Watching their baby, day after day, hoping for the best, and really taking a new perspective on life. I had to have strength for Harry and sadly he didn't make it, but there are many mothers who have to keep that strength going for their babies, day after day, week after week.

I admire these mothers so much. Motherhood isn't easy at the best of times, and most mums take for granted the wonderful feeling of being able to take their babies home, and to watch them sleep in their moses baskets and to feed them yourself and change them yourself, rather than watching someone else do those things or to have to ask permission to hold your baby.

Then, as these babies are born too soon, this often means the baby won't have fully developed, and that they might have ongoing health issues. I was shown this:

A great graphic that shows development of organs based on gestational age. Note that the brain, eyes, and lungs take the longest to develop.

When a baby is born prematurely, these processes are interrupted and must continue to develop in an unnatural environment; the wired world of the NICU. It can be so hard to comprehend but it's important to understand that even though the preemie may look like a smaller, perfectly formed little baby, there is a lot of development that still must happen.

So on World Prematurity Day: Give a thought to those many mothers whose baby are/have been on the NICU and have a completely different experience of being a new mum. I take my hat off to you all xx

Tis the Season to be Jolly

2012-11-15T13:31:00.002-08:00

Christmas always used to be one of my favourite times of year. Spending time together as a family, eating lots of mum's delicious cooking, watching Nanny drink too much by lunchtime ;-) watching everyone open the presents I'd spent ages picking and wrapping, having a lovely nap by the fire and watching rubbish on the TV.

Last year, we knew we were expecting another baby, and we spoke frequently about how next Christmas would be so different. More presents to buy, an extra seat at the table...

When we lost Harry I read a lot of "guides to grief" and one of the things that it mentioned was milestones, like Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries, etc. I could understand the birthdays and anniversaries thing... the birthday thing is going to be hard... Harry's special day... and every angel-versary of Harry's is hard... I remember him every Sunday morning, and every 10th of the month. The 10th June is also my Nan's birthday, but now it is Harry's angel-versary. I want to do something really special, each year, to mark that. But that's another story... What I couldn't understand was the Christmas thing. Why would Christmas be a hard time? Anyway, after I had tried to understand the Christmas thing I forgot about it.

Until, this weekend. We decided to take William to see Father Christmas at the local garden centre, where we had heard the grotto they had was "awesome". William was really excited. This is his first proper Christmas where he totally understands what is going on. The prospect of meeting Father Christmas, and telling him what presents he wanted was a bit overwhelming for him. Anyway, we got there, and had a wander around the Christmas decorations section which were amazing. I saw some lovely little baubles and said to Harry's Dad that I thought it would be nice to get a little wreath of baubles to put up at the "castle". He had a lovely idea which was how about decorating the tree that grows next to where Harry lies, or even getting a little Christmas tree to put up there. What a lovely idea. Then it hit me. This is what they meant.... Harry isn't with us for Christmas. This was meant to be his first Christmas. This is our first Christmas without him. Ugh. I felt awful, suddenly. I couldn't stop the warm tears just falling out of my eyes. I wasn't sobbing or anything, but I couldn't stop the tears. But we were in the queue for Santa's Grotto so I needed to get a grip because little children, excited to meet Santa with their parents, don't need to see a grown woman crying in a garden centre. When William met Santa, it was so magical and so perfect. I was so pleased I could give William this wonderful experience, and make such a fantastic memory for him to treasure. I got very emotional, and then remembered Harry. William is very lucky to experience this wonderful moment. But Harry will never get to share this special moment with William, like brothers should do at Christmas. So, anyway, that was the beginning. Then, it struck me again, in Tescos, when I saw the poinsettia plants, and again with the advent calendars.

William frequently asks us what we would like for Christmas. A lot of other people have also asked me what I would like. Well, what I would like is Harry back. Does that sound ridiculous? Out of anything I could possibly have I would like one more day with my little boy. Did you ever see that film, "A.I - Artificial Intelligence" ... well that scene at the end, when all he wants is to spend one whole day with his mother? Well that's what I would like.... with Harry. (Click here for the link to this scene) But, as this is rather unlikely, I would like to be pregnant again, so that I can feel like my life has some kind of forward driving direction, as I feel like I am currently in limbo, so discovering that I am expecting another baby would be the best Christmas present that I could ask for. This month was another cruel month. I have been taking my metformin, which makes me feel so ill and means I have had to give up all sugar and carbs to get through each day that I take it without having a very upset tummy. We have been doing everything that was recommended. Then, my period was late! Every day that it was late, I felt more and more excited that my wish might be coming true. I started to notice symptom after symptom, but every test I took was negative. I thought perhaps I was testing too early, so went to the doctors for a blood test, and he really believed that I was pregnant and told me that he was keeping his fingers crossed for him. I started to think about parties I had been invited to, and I wouldn't be able to drink at, or planning out my due date etc. But then, I went to the bathroom, and there it was... what a huge disappointment. I felt absolutely deflated. Empty. And very, very sad. What a crash back down to earth. I had a massive hug from Harry's dad, while I cried, not knowing what else I could possibly do to achieve the dream I am clinging on to.

So, Santa, as I am trying so hard to be a good girl... I don't want a lot for Christmas................ All I want for Christmas is a lovely positive pregnancy test... please :-) xxx

Learning from "mistakes"

2012-11-15T06:30:00.003-08:00

In my last post I spoke about the investigation carried out by the hospital, into the care that I received during my labour and birth of Harry.

I was really unsure about how I would feel about this meeting, but now as I have had to visit "The Centre for Women's Health" so frequently since having Harry, it wasn't the visiting the hospital that I was unsure about. Thankfully, I had taken wise advice and left super early so I could park easily as my appointment was in visiting hours, and I know from previous experience that parking at this time can be impossible. I was already relaxed from this, and felt fine going into the hospital. The security man on the desk was really smiley and happy and made me feel at ease, instead of the blank, unfriendly faces usually greeting your arrival. I waited in the lobby area watching all the pregnant ladies coming to be scanned, or those visiting newborns and their proud parents. I saw one man whose wife was on the labour ward. He was off to get a meal from the cafe and the nervousness and excitement was all over his face. Bless him, I thought. He has no idea of what lies ahead, I wonder how he would cope if things went wrong. I hate that I think like this now. But I can't seem to help it.

I was meeting the senior midwife and the "governance lead" at the hospital, and we held our meeting in the midwife's office, on the pre and post labour ward. The same part of the hospital that I spent the night on after having Wills, where I had stayed when I had a dreadful stomach bug early in my pregnancy with Harry and also where we stayed during Harry's short life. I wasn't saddened by where we held the meeting, as I felt like whilst this place holds a variety of memories for me, it is also where I need to come to have any future babies and the place where I can try to make a difference within.

Anyway, I had met with the senior midwife before to discuss my complaint letter, and while I hadn't met the governance lead, we had held several telephone conversations and emails. Immediately, I felt at ease as they were really friendly and smiley and was offered a cup of tea. They told me that this meeting was to be led by me and any questions that I had. We talked about the report and how I had found it hard to learn about the number of issues raised. I spoke about how I think it is a huge step for the hospital to be so open and honest about where they feel they have fallen down and to willingly address areas for improvement.

We spoke about each point of failing by the team caring for me, and spoke about the steps being taken to resolve these. In the main, it appears the hospital are refining their existing policies and procedures inline with the care I received to improve care offered to other mothers, in labour. For example, as I was left without being monitored for four hours... it says in their policies "a mother's vaginal loss should be monitored regularly" - now they have made a change which now say "a mother's vaginal loss should be monitored regularly, at least every 30 mins, especially when the mother had an epidural fitted". So that reassures me. Likewise for the placenta being examined. The policy says that "a placenta should be examined after birth" it doesn't give a time frame. But now it does and explains it should be checked so that the infant can receive "applicable care for example in the case of vasa previa". Seeing those words in their policy document made me proud to see, knowing that Harry's little life was now improving the care received by other mothers and babies. The other points where policies are already in place, but weren't adhered to, staff have been reminded of their responsibilities in newsletters, and in training environments.

We then went on to talk about those who cared for me, and how they had been scrutinising their actions, as to whether they had anything to learn from this case, and have been given applicable supervision where necessary.

We talked about the work of the Trust and our donation to the Neonatal Unit, and how wonderful the doctors were. We also talked about the support group I had set up and how I wanted to help other mothers not feel so alone as I had done. We spoke about the National Screening Committee and how we are working together to change the way vasa previa is screened for.

I felt good leaving the meeting as I felt that all I could ask to be done was being done and that the hospital were trying to learn from their mistakes and things seemed to be going in the right direction.

I walked out the office and began to walk out towards the exit. There coming down the corridor was a mother in a bed being wheeled to the post natal ward. She looked ecstatic. I felt hugely envious. Behind her was the same Dad who I had seen in the lobby, pushing the tiny cot with their new baby in it. I felt like I had been punched when I looked down at this dear little baby boy. A beautiful baby. I smiled at the proud father, as I struggled to keep it together. I can't wait to be that mother being wheeled back to the ward with our newborn baby. I hate that the last time I was wheeled back from the theatre I was in total shock, after being told our baby may not survive. But as I said, this place holds lots of memories for me, good and bad. But it is now about making sure that Harry's short time makes a big difference to others, and I need to be strong to make sure that happens.

Worse than we could've imagined....

2012-11-08T13:25:00.000-08:00

Last week we received the official investigation back from the hospital, into what happened during my pregnancy and labour with Harry that ultimately cost him his life.

I had accepted the fact that Harry had died because I had the condition, vasa previa, and during labour my contracting uterus around his head had caused a major vessel to rupture as my placenta had grown his umbilical cord in an usual place and this was growing over the exit to my uterus. I had seen the blood but had always thought that blood was mine, and until Harry was born it appears that all the health care professionals had too.

After reading my notes and writing complaint letters, and meeting the senior midwife in the hospital, it started to become clear that there were a few points where things should and could have been done differently.
One of these points was this idiot doctor that I had. When he tried to break my waters, it was ridiculously painful and when he decided I needed an epidural he snapped off his gloves and walked out. Both him and the midwife examining me could feel something in front of Harry's head. We all know what this was, now... but why did he not pick this up when he scanned me in the labour ward? This is something that will plague me forever, but I understand this doctor is no longer employed at the hospital so that makes me feel a little more secure.
The other point was that I was left to bleed for four hours. I had a catheter fitted after my waters broke at 5.30pm and I was not checked again until 9.30pm when we discovered the bleed. Apparently, a labouring woman's "loss" should be checked every 30 mins, especially if she has an epidural fitted. That is a fair few checks missed. And it's not because she was rushed off her feet. We were her only patients.

When I received the investigation via email, I was feeling nauseous. What if the investigation said that nothing could have been done differently. What if there were huge findings that were ultimately the cause of Harry's death. How will I feel? What will I do? These thoughts rushing through my mind.

I open it. I scan read it for the "information". I find what I am looking for.... wow. So many more things that I was not aware of.

I have cut and paste this from the document I received:

Care and service delivery problems

Emergency bell not used to call for assistance in the room following vaginal (PV) bleed.
Midwife left the labour room following a significant PV bleed.
No ‘in room’ matron review or matron ‘fresh eyes’ on CTG.
No CTG sticker used by Registrar during review at 22.00.
Fetal scalp electrode (FSE) applied but abdominal transducer not unplugged resulting in fetal heart (FH) trace recording at 20bpm above the actual rate.
The time, from decision to request a review by Specialist Registrar (SpR) following the PV bleed and VE, and his presence in LW room for the review, was 20 minutes.
‘Category 1 caesarean section’ 2222 call not put out when changed in theatre from category 2.
Placenta not examined until HC transferred to NNU and NC out of theatre.

Contributory factors

Ruptured vessel from vasa praevia.

The decision to go to theatre was initially graded as category 2 and as such all appropriate people had been contacted to attend theatre, including a Paediatric F2 (junior doctor). Due to deterioration of the FH, as observed on the CTG, the operation was upgraded to a category 1 caesarean but the guidance, to call 2222 for a category 1 caesarean section, was not followed. Had this been done the neonatal registrar and a neonatal Matron would have responded and attended theatre as soon as they were able to. (The doctor arrived when Harry was approx 25 mins old)

It was thought that the earlier blood loss was maternal; most likely being due to a placental abruption yet, at surgery, there was no evidence to support this view. It may have helped the neonatologists in their treatment of HC to know that there was no evidence of an abruption, generally indicated by some shearing of the placenta from the uterus and a retro-placental clot. However, the Neonatal Registrar does not consider that this information, if provided within the first 25 minutes of HC’s life, would have made a significant difference to the resuscitation efforts being made without that information. (As he had already lost such a lot of blood already)

Although, as is usual practice following caesarean section, blood was taken from the cord for blood gas analysis (pH), the placenta was not examined until both NC and HC were out of theatre. While it is not unusual, in the absence of maternal bleeding, to postpone this examination for a short time, in this case the early recognition of vasa praevia, with a visibly torn vessel, may have influenced the treatment choices for the neonatologists. The Neonatal Registrar agreed that, had she been made explicitly aware of the vasa praevia and torn vessel, she may have considered giving blood earlier but is unsure that, if blood were administered sooner, this would have changed the outcome for HC, given the significant loss of blood that he had already experienced.

* * *

So, along with the fact that I felt the Gynae doctor who scanned me in labour should've picked up the vasa previa/velamentous cord insertion, the midwife should've checked me more frequently, the CTG traces (in hindsight) show decelerations from the time my waters broke, and now the change of category for my c-section delivery and the non-diagnosis of the cause of the bleed until later... along with the clip they used on Harry's head to monitor his heart rate causing issues with the reading on the CTG monitor, to be incorrect by 20bpm as they didn't remove the monitor from around my bump....

Good Lord. How on earth am I ever going to be able to trust someone to deliver a baby again? So many errors. So many people not doing their jobs correctly. How did I feel? I felt numb. I didn't feel angry like I thought I would. I wasn't sad. I think I was shocked. But mainly I felt the feeling of being robbed all over again. If only, if only... I wish I could stop all these "if only"s... things can and won't ever change for my Harry. What has happened, has happened, and nothing can change the result for my little boy. But what can change, is to ensure this NEVER happens again to another family, waiting to meet their little boy.

At first I felt like meeting with the hospital would be a waste of time, what could I get out of it? I know what happened now... But after a few days of considering it, I have decided to go for the meeting. I want to know EXACTLY what is happening to ensure this never happens again.

My meeting is next Tuesday. I will keep you all posted.

The Power of Music

2012-11-08T05:43:00.002-08:00

Music has always had a profound effect on me. I can always relate to the lyrics and find singing along really powerful. I have always loved "love songs" and found them useful during difficult relationship times in the past.

Since learning to drive, one of my favourite things (when I am alone) is to turn up the volume on my favourite songs and sing my heart out. One of my favourites for William was Adele's "Make you feel my love" as I felt that I truly would do anything for my boy and I love him more than anything, a real unconditional love.

As I have mentioned previously in my blog, I spent a lot of time pouring over songs for Harry's memorial service. It was so important that I got the music right. We weren't having hymns as none seemed right and I wanted it to be perfect for my little man.
Here are the songs we used:

REM - Everybody Hurts

Dixie Chicks - Godspeed

Eva Cassidy - Somewhere Over the Rainbow

And, as I have mentioned before I find it incredibly hard to listen to these songs now, as when I hear the words I am transported back to that hideous day that we buried our little boy and I sit here now with tears down my face as I stupidly made myself listen to them. The power of music, it's so powerful and emotive.

But, yet I do do it to myself, and not infrequently. When I am on my own I find myself searching songs on YouTube to listen to, and to cry and to feel sad. It's like my private grieving time. And music helps me do that.

Here are some others that I have found, and find appropriate:

Jenn Bostic - Jealous of the Angels

Celine Dion - Fly - it actually is too painful to listen to all the way through, for me

Faith Hill - There You'll Be

Michael Jackson - Gone Too Soon

But a few weeks ago, while putting myself through this torture as I do, I found a song that was perfect. And as I listened to it, I saw a link on it's YouTube site dedicated to a baby. I watched the video montage this family had made and was curious about their story. I then saw a video that they had made for a TV show about their experience and as I watched I was saddened to hear their story. A family, with twin girls, and another girl were expecting another baby, another girl - Audrey Caroline. But during their pregnancy they learnt that this baby was too poorly to make it in the world after birth, if she made it to birth. They were advised to terminate, but as Christians they felt they couldn't go through with it and decided to leave it in God's hands. She wrote a blog about her experience as I have, and she talked openly about how sad it was to know her baby wasn't going to live. They gave birth a couple weeks early by planned C section and their baby lived for two hours and met all her family, giving them the chance to take some wonderful photographs, and create memories. Their experience has strengthened their faith and as a result she has found a career in writing about her faith and her experience as a bereaved parent, starting from her blog and now she has three published books.

The father is in a band and wrote a song about their loss and this is the beautiful song:

Selah - I Will Carry You

Please have a listen, it's amazing and this is my perfect song for Harry.... xxxxxxxxx

The impact of others...

2012-11-06T08:13:00.001-08:00

I know I have said this before, but I really do feel like a different person since losing Harry. Perhaps I became a different person after having William. Perhaps motherhood (and impending motherhood) can change a person. And certainly, bereavement absolutely changes a person.

My personality has changed in that I can see so much good in people. I have been shown so much kindness and so much love and support that I want to be able to offer that back. On the flip side of that, however, is my patience. Boy did I have little patience before, I have a teenytiny amount now. I have realised that life is way too short. It can be taken just like that. So, why waste your very precious time on idiots? This is something I feel very strongly about but balance that with the seeing the good in people and you have a bit of a conundrum.

The Trust I have established in Harry's name is doing so well. We have been overwhelmed by the generosity of others, both in monetary terms but also in giving their time. On the other side though, I have seen some rather odd behaviour.
Now, I know that I can speak honestly here, and I have been highly praised for being so frank and open, and this really does help others work through their own troubles. I have been quite frankly shocked at the behaviour of some people since losing Harry. I won't mention any names as that would be ridiculous, but let me tell you a story. Harry's Dad was told about someone who had been bad mouthing me behind my back, saying that I am cold, unwelcoming and unfriendly and he was told about this because he was disgusted that someone would speak so ill about someone without saying it to their face. They went on to add that no one could possibly understand what I am going through and that they should keep their mouth shut until they have walked a mile in my shoes.
Other behaviour that has been shocking is when someone told me "perhaps we should try to forget about what happened so we can move on".... Forget?! Erm, I don't think I, or anyone else who has been affected by this, will be forgetting about what happened, ever. It is so strange to imagine how some people think.

At the Ball at the weekend, I met again with Harry's wonderful doctors, whom I absolutely adore. They were presented with a cheque for our first donation. An amazing £6,000. One doctor told us that when he was handing over to his colleague he said "you're in for a night of it here, but it's alright because the family are wonderful". I was shocked by this comment as I had given no thought about how to behave at the hospital when finding out what happened to Harry, my behaviour came naturally. I asked what he meant, and he told me that quite often in circumstances such as these, parents become aggressive and angry and the situation is very hard to manage. I honestly can't imagine how anyone could act any different when they're baby is ill, but then perhaps Harry had given me some strength to hold it together during that difficult time. The doctors also went on to tell me that they had been criticised by the nurses about the level of care they were providing to Harry. They were told that it was unfair to prolong Harry's life like they were, because he was clearly a very poorly baby that wasn't going to live for long. The doctors told me they did what they could, because they wanted to wait for us to decide when the time was right for Harry's treatment to be stopped, and for him to go peacefully with his Mummy and Daddy. How can I ever thank them for that? Truly amazing.

Like I mentioned earlier, I have been amazed by the kindness and generosity of others and this was reflected at the Ball as we were able to raise a further £3,000 for the Trust which smashed my target of £1,000 out of the water. Fantastic news, and it really spurs me on to hold another Ball next year and keep on raising lots and lots of money for the wonderful neonatal unit in Exeter.

I also heard about a lady who lives locally who recently had a baby in Exeter hospital. She, like me, went into labour that didn't progress. She, like me, had a transverse lie baby, whose head wouldn't engage. She, like me, was scanned to see what was happening during labour but THIS TIME, because staff at the hospital are so aware of what happened to Harry, they were able to diagnose vasa previa and give her an emergency c-section and the baby's life was saved. A wonderful story that encourages me to continue making others aware of the condition so that babies are able to live.

How my life has changed in motherhood

2012-10-27T14:17:00.000-07:00

I can vaguely remember life before motherhood and to be honest I am a very different person now. Motherhood really has changed me.

I remember discovering I was pregnant with William and what a whirlwind that was. I remember worrying myself about every single niggle and pain wondering what was happening to my body! I felt strange watching my belly grow bigger and bigger after years of trying to keep it flat I was watching with wonder as it grew and grew. Feeling the horror when I first discovered my stretch marks and how many came to follow those first few. The nervousness and the excitement of those final weeks waiting for labour to come along. I think as a first time mum it is all new and exciting and it does overtake your life a bit, especially when you've not got much else going on around you!

I remember the day we went into hospital to have William. I was so unsure of what to expect, but after a long, drawn out labour, we were whisked to theatre for a forceps delivery and little William had his cord around his neck, so was a bit of an odd colour. He also needed a bit of resuscitation but was soon shown to me, my little boy. Bless him. Then the most amazing feeling of contentment and love and adoration consumes you as you gaze at their beautiful face. I know everyone feels this way about their own baby, but he was beautiful. I remember him opening his dark eyes to peer at us and just feeling so emotional, happy and elated. I remember being so proud to show him to my mum when we were taken back to our room, and when my dad saw him for the first time, and we told him we had called him William Lawrence (William after my great grandad, on both sides coincidentally and Lawrence after my Dad). He burst into tears and it was something I will never forget. I remember the drive home from the hospital the next day, we drove so slowly as we had such precious cargo on board.

But then as I was breastfeeding William, I felt as though my own life was now put on hold. I felt like I always needed to be close by incase he needed a feed. Breastfeeding William was something I had felt so so passionate about. I had wanted the very best for my new baby, and what could be better for your baby than mummy's own special milk made just for him. We had been taught all about the benefits of breastfeeding and to be honest, I didn't give it a second thought. That was what I was going to do. I am always one to think "if you're going to do something, do it 100% or don't bother" and I initally found breastfeeding very hard work. William wouldn't latch properly and he seemed to be constantly hungry. It turned out that William had tongue tie and needed to see a specialist to give it a snip, but it was quickly fixed and he began to feed well.

You can ask anyone who visited me in the first few weeks, I was not myself. I didn't want to see anyone. I felt horrible due to gaining so much weight, not having any money to sort out my hair or buy new clothes, I was tired and irritable from a serious lack of sleep and on top of that I didn't want to allow anyone else to look after William as he was my precious baby and I didn't want to let him out of my sight.

This wonderful vision of motherhood you have when you are first pregnant is nothing like the reality. You envisage lovely sunny days with nice strolls with your pram, the lovely baby smell, buying new outfits, you know what I mean. The reality is very different: colicky baby, screaming all night, no sleep, bags under your eyes, no energy, no money to buy those new outfits for the baby and not feeling much like taking the baby out incase you see someone you know and you look so hideous. It makes me smile now to listen to first time mums spilling out their hopes for their babies, we have all done it. We think that we have all the answers to baby/child problems, and the reality is you will do anything that makes your life easier or quieter. I know, as I have done it myself, watching badly behaved children in shops or restaurants thinking "my children will never do that because I will do this" but when it is actually your children you will feel very different. Nothing can prepare you for having your own, I did a bit of nannying in Australia and helped my auntie when I was just a kid, take care of my cousins when they were babies, I thought I knew it all... how wrong I was!

I was finding motherhood exhausting, challenging and relentless. I loved my baby but I was finding everything very hard. It was during a routine health visitor appointment that we were discussing an upcoming visit from some family members who were to be staying in our house, that I burst into tears and realised I was finding it all too much. She felt I might be suffering from postnatal depression and she started to help me find a way out a dark time.

This is not to say that I don't enjoy motherhood because I do, it is such a rewarding job. I love watching William learn something new and seeing him grow into a proper little boy. It is wonderful but exhausting. Now I can see the joy that motherhood brings, the lessons it teaches and the happiness your children bring to so many. The immense sense of pride when you see them learn and achieve, and how content you feel watching them sleep.

But, given the difficult labour and the postnatal depression, it is no surprise really that when I discovered I was having Harry I went into a bit of a meltdown. Things had started to find a bit of normality and I was beginning to feel a bit more like myself. We had gotten pregnant very quickly and when I started to imagine myself with a newborn AND a crazy, active toddler I started to suffer with anxiety. I started to get panic attacks quite regular and had my health visitor come and try to put things into perspective.

Can you imagine the guilt I now feel that I was worrying myself about how my life would be with two children. There I was wondering how I would struggle to manage life with two children and yet now I am struggling to manage life without one of them. I would say things like "two? what am I thinking", others would say "you will have your hands full" and I honestly used to feel so panicked and really not prepared for life with two children. Now it makes me feel physically sick to recall those feelings, as obviously I would give anything to have my Harry here now with my William, playing together nicely.

This week I met with a friend who has two children: one the same age as William and one the same age that Harry would be. It was interesting to see her manage with ease and show me that all my worry was for nothing and that life with two children is a challenge, and even more tiring and consuming but it is something that can be done and enjoyed. I thought I would find it hard to see a baby who is the age Harry should be, but it wasn't. I had been worrying myself about seeing babies and how I might feel, but in actual fact I feel that I am at a place on my "journey" where I have accepted what has happened and now I feel like these little babies are all precious in their own way, and they aren't Harry or reminders that Harry is not here. They are little lives of their own making people smile and I could actually enjoy watching her and spending time with her.

It was seeing her that made me consider how I would have coped with two, and all the little things that I have missed out on as a second time mother. How different my life would be if I had Harry with me. But at the same time it made me realise how my life has changed because I don't have Harry with me. All the interesting, wonderful and kind people that I have met because of my loss, and all the new variety and responsibilites in my life that have come about because I have lost Harry and wouldn't have done otherwise. So I must feel grateful as all these changes and new experiences are little gifts from Harry, my life is very different and while I obviously still miss Harry I am glad that while I don't have him here with me every day, his name is going on to give little gifts in their own little ways.

--------
Additional note:

This week I have lost a very sweet, kind and beautiful friend of mine. Very sadly and very suddenly she passed away, only months after having her first baby. Here I am months on, mourning the loss of my baby, and now a baby is mourning the loss of her mother. The exact flip side to my experience.
I have been thinking so much about that little baby and how her life must have changed. Her mother was a huge part of her life and now she has gone, it must be so confusing.
My thoughts are with her family at the moment and I hope Kate's spirit can rest in peace.

You will be missed xxxxxx look after Harry for me, hun xxx

Taking Me Back

2012-10-20T12:34:00.001-07:00

I think that in life, there are many times that you want to shut away and not think about too often. But sometimes there are things that transport you right back to those moments, sometimes without warning.

Yesterday when I wrote my blog I was transported back to the difficult times in our relationship and felt all those angry feelings again, but unnecessarily because those times were in the past and have been discussed, dealt with and we have moved on. On reflection, I probably shouldn't have gone into as much detail as I did, as dragging it all up again doesn't really help anyone and doesn't make Harry's Dad feel great either. So forgive me, I should have engaged my brain before letting my fingers type out my very personal tales... It is funny how when I was writing it, I felt like I was back in that time all over again.

The same thing happened this week when I heard the very sad news that a friend of a friend gave birth to her little boy, and sadly he was born asleep. How awful to know that someone else is now experiencing that sharp, horrible pain that I did on that very sad day. I felt like I should get in touch with this mother and wrote her a letter as I was writing it I was remembering the feelings and emotions I felt on those very early days and it was strange to re-experience them again. I was taken back to the hospital room, remembering looking out of the window at the people coming and going in the car park, wondering what on earth has just happened.... I remember a nurse coming into my room offering cups of tea and asking when I was due or if I knew what I was having and feeling very strange.... not knowing how to respond to that question as I had given birth and it not turned out the way we had all planned. The first of many awkward moments.

I remember having to start making funeral arrangements and wanting the best for our little boy. I remembered sitting at the computer with my mum playing music and trying to decide what was right. Strangely, this evening I was caught off guard when Strictly Come Dancing played one of those songs "Somewhere Over the Rainbow". Immediately, I was transported back to the church. Stood there in the doorway, clutching onto Harry's Dad's arm, as he was carrying Harry in his tiny white casket. As the song played, I was there in the church, slowly walking down the aisle bringing our son into the church where William was christened, but instead we were there to say our goodbyes. Seeing my family in floods of tears and knowing nothing anyone could do would make it better.

When I visited the neonatal unit and were discussing improvements to palliative care on the ward, we talked about taking footprints and handprints. When we talked about this, I was transported back to being in my hospital bed, high on morphine, in this surreal experience of seeing my newborn hooked up to all this equipment and having nurses help my husband and my mum paint Harry's hands and feet to make keepsakes. I was, at that time, clinging on to the 50% chance that Harry would be ok and couldn't understand why we were doing this as Harry was going to be fine and pull through. The nurses also gave us a beautiful blue knitted bag that they put his name tags and a tiny piece of his hair in. These things I have kept in a special box, of my tiny treasures from Harry's short time. I have also kept the babygro he was dressed in when we held him for the one and only time and the smell on this piece of clothing takes me back to seeing him so peaceful in the funeral parlour.

All these times are so painful so it is no wonder my brain has shut these memories away, but I try to smile through the tears as while it hurts, they are my few precious memories of my little boy and are things I want to hold onto forever.

"You need to work on your marriage"...

2012-10-19T04:07:00.001-07:00

When I went into hospital to be induced after my waters breaking days before, Harry's Dad was very keen for me to give birth quickly as it was the beginning of the Euro football tournament. Obviously I couldn't care less, I was just so excited that today was the day I would be meeting my baby, and as I knew how long it took to have William (I was in hospital for 3 days before he arrived!) I wasn't holding out any hope that Harry's Dad would be watching the opening game holding his baby!

Harry's Dad and I have a bit of a funny relationship. We have known each other for many years through various friends as he went to college with a bunch of people I house-shared with when I was a teenager. We knew of each other but didn't really KNOW each other, and were friends on FaceBook etc. I was living in London and just coming out of a long term relationship when I started to chat with Harry's Dad on FaceBook chat now and again as his status updates were always really amusing. Anyway, I was planning a visit to Devon and decided to meet up and we were texting about that for a while. Then he announced he had some annual leave to use up from work and that he would come and visit me in London for the evening. We met up, had some dinner and drinks and had a really great night together and spent the next day wondering around Greenwich. I always felt very comfortable around him and we always felt like we could be completely honest with each other.

Everything happened very fast, suddenly I was leaving London to move back home to Devon, we were moving in together, getting a puppy and then before we knew it we were engaged! He asked me to marry him at a lovely picnic on a sunny day on Dartmoor. We had planned a fabulous destination wedding in the Dominican Republic and in the very same week that it was booked and paid for, I got a positive pregnancy test and discovered our little William was on his way. Obviously, it was a shock, especially as I had been informed by my consultant that I "would never conceive naturally".

In the coming months, we moved to a bigger house and Harry's Dad began working away. I had to quit my job as I was unbelievably sick with the pregnancy and as I was temping it became impossible for me to keep my job open as I just couldn't ever make it in to the office. Things became hard. The honeymoon period had well and truly ended. Harry's Dad was either working away, or out playing football when he was home. I was home alone, unable to drive and with no money, waiting for the arrival of our first baby. I became a bit of a hermit. I lost all my self esteem and confidence, gained a tonne of weight and stayed indoors most of the time. I missed my London lifestyle and my friends, and resented Harry's Dad for going out drinking, and spending lots of time with his friends and leaving me at home by myself. He began misbehaving and things were really as bad as they could get.

After Christmas had passed, I thought that maybe it would be a good idea to get married before the baby came along, so that we were a "proper family" and maybe that would change the behaviour of Harry's Dad. As things were so tight financially, we planned a very small, low key wedding for just close family and a few friends and I was really unsure if Harry's Dad was going to turn up as I honestly felt he didn't want this path. He surprised me, and was there, and we were married. It was a happy day but it wasn't the big day I had always planned, I was an absolute elephant being nearly 8 months pregnant and Harry's Dad was hungover from the night before....!

Anyway, William came along and made the world a very happy place. I felt closer to Harry's Dad as we had the bond of a new little life, who we loved so very much. But, things began to get difficult again when he went back to work, William had horrendous colic, and I was breastfeeding him so there was very little he could do to help with my sleepless nights. I still couldn't drive and felt very housebound, so just before I knew the long weeks away were about to start I decided we would move house again, closer to my nan and to a place where everything was within walking distance. Life became much happier. I had my little boy and I was near to my nan and we were able to do things and see people rather than just the same four walls.

Things between Harry's Dad and I were strained as we rarely spent time together and he was still going out drinking and acting like a teenager. I had learnt to accept how he was, how he would speak to me and make me feel rubbish for not working and not contributing to the household finances, and also that in terms of housework, nothing was shared and I was responsible for everything as well as William.

I was very pleased to pass my driving test and I thought it would be a good idea if I went back to work, to feel as though I was contributing and also to get out of the house and be someone other than William's mummy. After many tearful occassions, I found a fantastic new nursery for William that I felt confident leaving him at. I got a job in a ladies clothes shop in the little town we live in and enjoyed spending two or three days a week being me again. Things between us started to pick up, I felt my confidence returning and our life seemed to be much happier. We decided to try for another baby to give William a sibling and we got caught very quickly. My work were less than impressed that I was pregnant so soon after starting and after some rather strained conversations I decided it was not worth the grief to stay working there.

Anyway, the months seemed to fly by and Harry's Dad and I had our ups and downs. We had a wonderful first family holiday to Spain and things were really great while we were away. Then we came back, things returned to normal and we were arguing again. Mothers Day was a disaster. It had not been planned on the part of Harry's Dad and he had spent the little bit of money we had on a stag do he had planned (for the weekend before I was due to give birth). I was given a lovely card that William had made me at nursery but there was no thoughtful card or gift from my husband, and off he went, and took the car to play football, leaving me and William at home on our own. Luckily I managed to spend the day with my mum as she knew how upset I was and it wasn't so bad after all.

As we got closer to the due date, I started to have pregnancy problems. I was in a lot of pain or very uncomfortable most of the time, I was bleeding and losing fluid on a regular basis and had to make several visits to the labour ward for checks. I always wanted to make sure that the baby was ok but I think Harry's Dad felt like I was putting it on, most of the time.

I will never forget my birthday. I was in so much discomfort, I was crying. I had a lovely day with my good friend who visited from London and my family came over for cake and cards. No present from Harry's Dad, but the promise of a meal at the restaurant where we had our wedding reception. Sadly things were too painful for me to go out for a meal so it was cancelled and then the next day my waters broke.

I had always felt like our relationship was held together for William and if it hadn't have been for him, then I am not sure that our relationship would have made it this long.

Anyway, you know the story of Harry's birth and for the first time in a really long time, I saw some emotion on Harry's Dad's face. I felt so sad that not only was I enduring this hideous experience but he was too. I wanted to protect him. The day we spent with Harry bought us so close and we were able to speak openly and cry together and hold each other. He helped me with my wheelchair that I needed due to my c-section and was very kind and very caring. A side that I had not seen in him for so long.

When we were staying at my parents house and planning Harry's funeral, I felt closer than ever. Like a real team. Things between us were great.

Over the coming weeks life got back into it's old routine of him leaving for work early and me spending the days with William. We became distant. We stopped talking. The arguments started again. Trying to conceive again put us under more strain. My patience with him was wearing thin. I was getting agitated by his laziness and his moods.

It wasn't until one of my counsellors raised the question of how our relationship was going that I said that he was annoying me a lot, and he had said to me "nothing I do is ever good enough". My counsellor said "you need to work on your marriage" I was shocked by her honesty. "Such a high percentage of couples split after the loss of a baby. You don't want to be in that percentage do you?" and I really, truly didn't. And I felt like I wanted to fight for our marriage and not let it go to the rocks. Harry's Dad was working night shifts and I went upstairs and hugged him and said that I don't want to get divorced so we have a lot of work to do!

I have to remember that whilst I can talk about what happened, he doesn't want to or doesn't feel he can. But he still feels the way I do. He has still lost his son, that he loved, as much as I did. The thing that bought us closer will also drive us apart if we let it. So making time to talk and to spend quality time together is so important.

Things are definitely getting better now we are both making a conscious effort to be more thoughtful, and caring, and trying to share responsibilities. To act as a team/united front on decisions or difficult scenarios. And to try to remember what it was that bought us together in the first place.

Because there was a time when I felt like he really was the best thing ever... and deep down, I still do.

Love you Hammy xx

EDIT:
I would like to add a note at the end of this blog as it seems to be causing some controversy.
This is an account from MY perspective. This blog is written as an account from my side of the story.

If it seems as though this is a personal attack on Harry's Dad, then it is not. It is how my marriage has been, for me. So if that is upsetting for you, then perhaps you should try being me. The whole point of this blog is to highlight the "grief journey" and one of the points on this journey is that you need to work at your relationships. And as ours was not perfect to begin with, I felt it important to highlight that fact.

I will add, however, that as ever things are never one sided. I will admit that along the way I have been snappy and had to become a bit of a nag or slightly controlling, but I can hold my hands up and say that I am prepared to address that. As I wrote above, we are working TOGETHER to get things back on track and we BOTH have work to do to make our marriage work.

And just to confirm, I love my husband. He has his moments, but I have written above that I want to work at this and not to let it go. If I didn't, things would be very different right now.