Our Baby Rainbow

Cheeeeeeeeese!

On Monday we celebrated another rainbow birthday. This time it was Jude – 2 years old! I know it sounds cliche but where has the time gone? I can’t help calling him my baby, but soon he will start to understand what I mean .. and get seriously cheesed off!

I’ve previously written about my first rainbow pregnancy with Dylan and the (mainly emotional) difficulties we faced. With Jude it felt a lot different. I knew that my body was now capable of carrying a baby full term. I was a lot more confident. I felt like I could be a ‘normal’ expectant mother talking about ‘when’ the baby would come rather than ‘if’ or ‘hopefully’. I had another enviable pregnancy in that I had very little, if any morning sickness. My mum couldn’t believe how lucky I had been in that respect over three pregnancies. But boy was I tired. I didn’t remember being this tired before. Especially in the early weeks I just felt exhausted. I even remember lying down at work one day. I guess the big difference was having a two year old to run around after. Whereas before I could come home from work and just lie on the sofa, relax and maybe have a sneaky snooze, that was just a distant memory. Given we were potty training too in the early weeks, it felt particularly hard. But one thing I couldn’t do was complain.

Again I felt so incredibly lucky. As with Dylan’s pregnancy, we were under the care of the same consultant, the lovely Mrs Martindale. She was fully aware of our history so we didn’t have to explain a thing. By now, we also knew some of the midwives and sonographers. We followed the same plan as with Dylan. Regular appointments and scans every 4 weeks and then to be induced at 38 weeks, if nothing happened before. This was so handy with planning when to finish work as I had a pretty good idea of when the baby would come.


Unfortunately I didn’t learn any lessons from Dylan’s pregnancy. I have very few photos of me pregnant, less than with Dylan. It is one regret that I have. This is one of the only photos I have, taken the night before I went into be induced.

 

 

 

I was due to go into hospital on the 4th February in the afternoon. Jude arrived less than 48 hours later on the morning of the 6th. Although it might seem like a long time, for the most of it I was sat on the antenatal ward waiting for things (my cervix) to get moving!! Knowing that it would probably be a couple of days given my experience with Dylan, I took about 4 novels in with me … and read them all. It was absolute bliss! I was determined to make the most of the peace and quiet (I was in a single room!) whilst I could.

On one of the nights, I received a visit from one of the midwives on the Delivery ward. It was Paula, the midwife who delivered Ewan. She’d seen my name up on the board and recognised it. I know it sounds corny, but Paula is one of those people I will probably only see a few times in my life, yet I have such a strong bond with her that is hard to explain. She was there almost every step of Ewan’s delivery and for the hours afterwards. She shared such an important chapter in our lives that is usually only reserved for close family and friends, not someone you barely know. I will forever be grateful that she was with us and it was so wonderful to see her when I was waiting for our third baby to come.

So how would I describe Jude’s entrance into the world? One word. Quick! That might sound a bit bizarre when it took nearly 2 days from being induced, but when labour actually started, boy did I know about it. I had an epidural with Ewan, but didn’t have anything with Dylan. I didn’t consciously plan a pain-relief free birth but it just happened that way. With Jude I was determined to have as many drugs as I could get. But it wasn’t to be. It felt like I went from 0-60 in 10 seconds. At the point I asked for an epidural, I got the same response again, ‘too late, baby is on its way!’

Thankfully I got another heavenly midwife, Jayne. She came on shift at 8am, took control and sorted me out straight away. She got me on gas and air (which I’d never got the hang of before) and then suggested a water birth. I was completely stunned. I had no idea that I could have one because the baby was to be monitored throughout. ‘Of course’ she said, ‘we’ll get the tub filled up’. Talk about distracting me and diverting my attention.

It’s funny how the different senses invoke particular memories. It was a beautiful sunny morning on Monday. As I got out of the car with Jude, the sun hit my face and warmed me instantly. I was transported back to the birthing pool. As I settled in the water, the sun was coming up and streaming through the water. The design of the room couldn’t have been any better. I lay there with my eyes closed and on the sun on my face. It had a enormous calming effect.

I won’t bore you with any further details other than to say within 10 minutes of getting into the pool, Jude made his entrance into the world. Our second rainbow was in our arms. Dylan came to see him a couple of hours later. He was a bit bemused and couldn’t really work out what all the fuss was about, especially when Jude cried! He eventually came round a few days later. The photo below is one of the first I took of them together. It’s a bit blurry but you can see Dylan showing him one of his dinosaurs!

 

I don’t ever want to take my rainbows for granted. They are the delights that came into our lives and mended our broken hearts. Every day is a blessing, but on special days, like birthdays, I count them even more.

JustGiving - Sponsor me now!

1 down, 14 to go!

15 races for 15 babies, first race – tick! Woo hoo I’m off the starting blocks and have one 10k under my belt. Today I completed the Blackburn 10k Winter Warmer, with less than ideal preparation. I’ve spent the past 2 ½ weeks in a cold/cough/flu like state. I was struck down mid-January and had to put running on hold for two weeks. Thankfully I managed to get out this week and although I was still sneezing and spluttering in training, I didn’t feel quite like death any more.

However I was starting to get a bit nervous when I read the finer details of this first race. An email we received a week before described it as ‘a challenging course and the section out of the park and up Buncer Lane is almost entirely up hill!’ – they felt the need to add an exclamation mark. Oh. Dear. A local newspaper article wrote ‘and it takes in a gruelling climb up Buncer Lane’. Oh. Crap. Even though I run up and down hills a lot where I live, the adjectives being used were starting to worry me. Buncer Lane was worrying me!

I decided that all I needed to do was just get round and complete the course, and try my best not to be last. I have mainly only run in races with large fields. As in tens of thousands of runners. The maximum taking part in today’s event was 600. It’s not so easy to hide in a field of that size.

Still, I was determined to get my racing year off the mark. Up early with the boys, I fuelled up on porridge and fruit and was out the door at 9.30am. Adam and I have decided that for the winter races, we won’t drag the boys out to watch. There’s nothing worse for them being stood in the cold waiting over an hour to see their mum!! I arrived relatively with plenty of time to collect my race number and chip and warm up. I tried to ignore the hundreds of uber-fit club runners and shuffled along the start line, keeping towards the back. Then we were off.

The first kilometre and I’m thinking ‘this is ok, it’s not too steep, I can handle this’. Then we hit The Hill. The Buncer Lane I had been reading about. All I can say is Ow! Ow! Ow! The descriptions were spot on. It was indeed a gruelling climb and it felt like it was going on forever. Of course it didn’t and I just about managed to keep running all the way up. I did NOT want to walk. The run flattened out and the we started a steady descent. The race was in an area of Blackburn I haven’t been to before. The views at the top were pretty awesome and helped to soothe the pain of the hill. I knew from the intermittent voice from my Strava app that my split times were way below what I would normally run, but I was past caring. I was just happy to have conquered the climb. Check out the elevation on the picture below!

I made it through the rest of the run, even managing to chat to a couple of runners. I just about coped with another short, steep hill after being reassured by a regular competitor that the end was almost in sight. We came back into the park where the run had started and finished with a lap on the running track. I crossed the line and just about managed to stop myself from collapsing with joy. I really hope that this is the toughest of all the 10k’s I’ve signed up for. I’m not sure I’m built for anything harder. I wasn’t expecting an amazing time, well not in comparison to my PB. I checked my results this evening – 1 hour 4 mins 3 seconds. But time doesn’t matter, competing and completing does.

Thanks to my lovely friends, my Justgiving page jumped up £65 today so it was definitely worth dragging myself out. On my way in the car, I thought about Ewan and the reasons I was running. The thought of him will always keep me going. And the hugs I got from all my boys when I got home.

#15races15babies

#TeamSands

#run4Ewan

#winterwarmer10k

 

 

JustGiving - Sponsor me now!

A Birthday Sunrise

A friend sent me a message today with this absolutely beautiful sunrise. Shortly afterwards she sent another message saying she had just realised the date and no wonder the sunrise was such a beauty. She then thanked me for always making her grateful for everything she has. Today is Ewan’s birthday. What lovely words to receive at what can be a very emotional time.

It’s that funny time of year again where we celebrate two birthday’s. One rainbow and one angel. Dylan was 5 last Thursday and today it is Ewan’s 6th birthday.

There are so many clear memories from 2011 that I can’t escape from. It starts in particular from the 13th January onwards. From then until next weekend I will catch myself at various times of the day thinking ‘this time 6 years ago….’. On Friday night I caught myself remembering back to being in bed 6 years ago. Night-time was when Ewan would usually be most active, but on that night he wasn’t. The trouble was, I didn’t realise until the following day.

Saturday was the anniversary of the day we found out his heart had stopped beating and that he had died. It was the day I first went to hospital because I was worried I couldn’t feel any movements. In sharp contrast to the events of that day, this year we were busy with Dylan’s birthday party. He was so excited and had been talking about it for weeks. Thankfully it all went smoothly and he had an amazing time. We hired a magician/entertainer and although the jokes and tricks were old hat to us adults, the kids thought he was hilarious. Although the day was filled with fun and frivolity, again I caught myself at 2pm driving back home thinking ‘I was at the hospital now’.

I imagine anyone who has been through a traumatic experience will be the same. I guess this will be the status quo for years to come. Memories like these will never be forgotten.

I do have some fun memories though (bizarrely). Last night I reminded Adam of when we were in the delivery room waiting for the midwife. He was trying to cheer me up and lighten the mood so started doing gymnastics (badly) on a stray yoga mat. It worked.

We always try and do something nice on Ewan’s birthday. Today after visiting the cemetery, Adam and I took a drive out into the countryside, to the hotel where we got married. We had a lovely relaxed lunch by a roaring fire. We have so many wonderful memories there and it was just a perfect time for us to be together.

The boys still don’t know about Ewan yet, so they don’t realise the significance of the date. This morning I was first up and went into Dylan’s room. He had just got up and was sat in the middle of his room. I just sat down beside him and asked for a hug. He climbed into my arms and he let me hug him. For much longer than a 5 year old would normally let his mother hug him! I also got a lovely hug and cuddle off Jude when he woke up. But being a mummy’s boy through and through, that was no surprise. I needed those hugs and thankfully they weren’t in short supply.

Which brings me back to my friend’s lovely message about being grateful for what we have. We will never ever forget our angel, our firstborn. We will never fully heal from the pain. But do we feel grateful? Absolutely. Every single day. I had the joy and pleasure of carrying Ewan for 7 months. He was loved and wanted. His two brothers are absolute blessings. That we were able to go on and have a family is a luxury that some people do not. We look at them every day and appreciate how lucky we are.

I think I say this every year now, but it is still important to remember. Hug your loved ones. Hold them close. Tell them you love them. Life is precious.

After 25 attempts at getting a family photo of us all looking in the same direction, this was the best we could get!

* Photo credit to the wonderful Dr Ruth Jeanes. Unfortunately for anyone wondering where this beautiful scene can be found in the UK, it is not! It was taken in Australia.

If you haven’t read my last blog, please take a look. I am hoping to raise £500 this year for Sands (the Stillbirth and Neonatal Death Society) by running 15 races. My Justgiving page is below. #15races15babies

JustGiving - Sponsor me now!

15 Races for 15 Babies

Taken by the fab Burnley Parkrun photographer David Belshaw

After finishing the Great North Run last September, I knew that I wanted to carry on running. I was blown away when family, friends and colleagues helped me to raise over £2300 for Sands, for running the half marathon and 2 x 10k’s in 2016. When I was unsuccessful (but secretly quite pleased) with the London Marathon ballot, I decided to be a bit more creative. There were plenty of other marathons to go for, but to be honest, I’m still not ready to put in the hours needed for decent training with the 3-4 hour long weekend runs needed.

Inspiration came through reading various posts from a brilliant Facebook group I was invited to join called Run Mummy Run. There are 30,000+ members all of varying running abilities, from 15 minute milers to ultra marathon runners. It’s a huge support network where stories and achievements are celebrated and no question is too stupid. Being part of this virtual running club has kept me going throughout the winter, a time when I have never trained before. Not at night any way. I only managed to pull on my trainers after the boys had gone to bed when it was dark, windy and wet outside because I knew thousands of other mums were doing the same.

So, onto my challenge for this year ….. ready? ….. drumroll …. (it should be no surprise really given the blog title!) … I’m going to take part in 15 races over the course of 2017.

Because I am now such a running geek (as I was politely informed the other day), all my races are on a spreadsheet. I haven’t signed up for them all yet – some still have dates to be confirmed, and I’ve got my fingers crossed that I will win a place in the Vitality Liverpool half marathon. Feel free to join me in one, or come out and cheer if the race is near you (warning – you need to live in the North!). The more the merrier.

Blackburn Winter Warmer 10k – 5th February

Crosby Beach 10k (Liverpool) – 19th February

Accrington Ron Hill 10k – 5th March

Vitality Liverpool Half Marathon – 2nd April

Lancaster 3 Bridges 10k – 30th April

Great Run Manchester Half Marathon – 28th May

Run for All Hull 10k – 18th June

Run for All Leeds 10k – 9th July

Great Yorkshire Run (Harrogate 10k) –  July (date TBC)

Run for All York 10k – 6th August

Blackpool Air Show 10k – 13th August

Run for All Bury 10k – 17th September

Lytham Windmill 10k – 12th November

Wilmslow 10k – 26th November

Longridge Pudding Run – 10th December

So why 15? Because every day in the UK, 15 babies are stillborn, or die within the first 4 weeks of life. Every day, the lives of 15 families are changed forever. Hopes are shattered and dreams are broken for 15 mums and dads to be. On Saturday it will be 6 years to the day when we were told that Ewan had died. And although I always say how lucky we are to have 2 amazing boys with us now, the pain I felt on that day and for the weeks, months and years that followed, will be with me until I take my last breath.

Stillbirth is not rare. This was a tragedy which happened to us and could happen to anyone. The UK’s stillbirth rate is still unacceptably high, especially in comparison to other lower income nations.

I want my challenge to be memorable and meaningful. To raise money for research and also raise awareness of stillbirth.

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/15races15babies

I’ve even got one of those fancy text codes (I sound ancient writing that don’t I?!)

Text COXR51  followed by an amount of £1, £2, £3, £5 or £10 to 70070

Please share my Justgiving page and if you have a spare cash over the year any donations will be gratefully received.

My geeky spreadsheet!

#15races15babies

#TeamSands

#SandsSuperstar

 

 

A Different Baby Shower

img_2197

For obvious reasons, baby showers make me feel a bit uncomfortable. In fact, until a couple of days ago, I’d never actually been to one. Baby showers were just starting to become popular around the time that I was pregnant with Ewan. In the background, in secret, my friends had just started to organise one and were looking at possible dates. It never progressed beyond the planning stage, for obvious reasons.

When I fell pregnant with Dylan, I was pretty vocal in saying that I didn’t want a baby shower. It was a difficult time and I didn’t enjoy the pregnancy as I should have. It was almost as if I thought having a shower would jinx things. And also it didn’t feel fair that this baby would have a shower when Ewan didn’t. To be honest I felt out of sorts quite a lot over that 9 months and I don’t think it was an unusual reaction. By the time Jude came along, I think the shower ship had just sailed!

Funnily enough none of my close friends have had showers either. Unless they did and just didn’t invite me!! Up until a couple of years ago I probably wouldn’t have gone anyway. Maybe I still wouldn’t now.

img_2194 But the shower I went to this week was of a different nature. It was an adoptive baby shower. One of my bestest friends and her husband have been approved to adopt and will be bringing home their son in just over a week. All the papers have been signed, sealed and delivered. Matching panels complete, it is official as it can be. And pretty much everyone who knows them is absolutely bursting at the seams with excitement. With this in mind this was definitely one shower I wasn’t going to miss.

My friend and her husband have been on roller coaster ride for the past 6-7 years if not longer. I’m sure any couple who have struggled to have children will be able to identify. I sometimes think about how simply we view life when we are young. A mantra of growing up, settling down, getting a husband and having children is pretty much drummed into us all, with no concept of how difficult it might be. Or no idea words like miscarriage, stillbirth and infertility might become part of our everyday vocabulary. That we may not find the right partner … Or want to have kids at all.

I digress. Last night was a wonderful opportunity to celebrate my friend’s eventual and well deserved opportunity to create a family. Having met their little boy for the first time last week, they are now gearing up to spend a week or so getting to know him and his routines, his likes and dislikes. It will be amazing, tiring and emotional. And that is even before they bring him home permanently.

I hope having read this, whether you know them or not, you’ll join with me in wishing them all the love and happiness in the world. Raise your glass to new beginnings.

And finally I want to leave you with this photograph which I just thought was one of the loveliest things I have seen in a long time. Finally they have found their missing piece!

img_2203

Happy Happy Half Term

img_2014

I’ve decided a happy post is way overdue. Although the memory of half term is already fading, I wanted to share with you a couple of the fun things we got up to. Half terms are always particularly welcome for me seeing as I work in education. The first half term is always the hardest in my line of work, so by the time the break in October arrives, I am ready for some time off.

It was Dylan’s first school holiday, which was exciting for him, although given that he has absolutely LOVED his first half term at school, I think he was a tad disappointed not to be donning his uniform as normal. Thankfully the weather gods were beaming down on us for the first few days. I was off work Monday to Wednesday and the sun shone every day. No rainy day activities needed….. hurray!

Bolton Abbey

image1 img_2001

We visited Bolton Abbey in North Yorkshire, about a 30 minute journey for us. My parents brought me here a lot when I was younger, but it was our first visit with the boys. I wished we’d brought them sooner because they absolutely loved it. It is a huge estate on the banks of the River Wharfe with a ruined abbey, woods, waterfalls, open fields and picnic areas. We only explored a little bit with them so plenty of reasons to return.

img_1999 img_1971

We took part in the Halloween Pumpkin walk, which was a trail through the woods counting sparkly pumpkins suspended from the trees and finding ‘coffins’ with Halloween related things inside e.g. spiders, toads, ghouls etc. There was a quiz which we had to complete and for the first time, Dylan carried the worksheet and (with our help with spellings), wrote down some of the answers. It was a real ‘wow, he is growing up’ moment. Jude had been asleep in the car so took a while to get going, but eventually perked up and loved opening all the coffin doors and running after his older brother.

image2 img_1981

Afterwards we had a picnic by the river. Picnics definitely rate highly in the list of Dylan’s most favourite things to do. Winter picnics are often better, with no wasps or flies to spoil the fun. It was so warm that even in the shade we sat with our coats off. The colour of the trees was stunning. It reaffirmed why Autumn is my favourite season by far.

Pendle Hill

img_2033 img_2032
Anyone who lives in, or has visited our beautiful corner of East Lancashire knows the local landmark hill, Pendle. We see it every day on the drive to school and Dylan loves being able to name it (although he shouts out that every other hill in the area is also Pendle, so we have a bit of work to do there). Jude went up last year in the baby carrier, but Dylan has never ventured up. A couple of his friends have climbed it, so he was keen to give it a shot.

We had decided to keep Jude in nursery for one of his scheduled days. He was in the process of moving from the baby room up to Toddlers, so we didn’t want to break his routine. After we dropped him off we drove straight to Barley, the village at the bottom of the hill.

img_2030

To be honest, I wasn’t sure if Dylan would make it to the top. But he was an absolute star. Once we got on the steps on the path up, he was like a little mountain goat. I kept asking if he wanted to rest (not that I wanted to!?!) but he kept saying he was fine. We managed to get him to stop for a bit to have a drink.
Again being another beautiful, clear day, the views were amazing. You can see for miles and miles. Dylan made it to the top of the steps all by himself. We allowed him a bit of time on Adam’s shoulders whilst we made the final short walk from the stairs to the summit. A few homemade chocolate and banana buns at the top and we were ready to go back down. One of my favourite photos taken was of Dylan trying to play hide and seek at the top. It is pretty sparse up there, but he managed to find some long grass to cover him. Pity his hat was bright red and gave him away!!

img_2038 img_2024 img_2022 img_2023
At the bottom, we treated ourselves to a pub lunch and sat by the log stove. I thought Dylan would be wiped out for the rest of the day but he wasn’t. Me? I was ready for bed by 3pm!

I’m hoping the weather will stay nice for us at the weekends to still get out over winter. I know we can still wrap up in waterproofs and wellies, but it is much nicer when the gloomy rain gives way to winter sun. Some more wonderful memories in the bank for us and hopefully for the boys, Dylan at least, to treasure. Happy days indeed.

img_2041 img_2027

Wave of Light

wave-of-light

7pm is usually getting out the bath and into pyjamas time in our house. I was panicking so much that I would miss the Wave of Light so I lit my candle a wee bit early and took photographs in advance to post.  #Waveoflight is now trending over social media as I type. In some ways it is tragic there are so many photographs of candles commemorating babies loved and lost, but how wonderful they can all be remembered and shared in this global community.

The SANDS Facebook post simply stated:

“For the light they brought into our lives, of which this candle is a living sign.”

I have pictured our candle with our angels and rainbows light. My mum’s cousin gave this to us last Christmas. It floored me a bit when I opened it. She had got everyone else in the family lights which were similar and had children/grandchildren on, I don’t know why but didn’t expect ours to include Ewan on as well as Dylan and Jude. I absolutely love it and it has pride of place in the living room.

“Our little Star is shining bright, his love exalted in the night. Watching over our Rainbows here who frolic and play with radiant cheer”.

Thinking of our little man tonight, and all the other angels sadly taken far too soon.

My love goes out to everyone who has lit a candle tonight.

#Waveoflight

xmas-light

A boxful of memories

panda

I once read an article about a mother who lost twin babies. She was sent home from hospital with a scrap of paper towel with the words ‘twin one’ and twin two’ and their birth weights. That was it. Nothing else. The scrap of paper was all she and her husband had to remind them of their babies. This was about 25 years ago. Thankfully things have moved on since then.

Creating and holding onto memories for a stillborn baby is one of the most important parts of the grieving and healing process. As the parents of a child which was never able to take its first breath, make that first step, utter a first word, experience the first day of school, the few memories we have are treasured and extremely precious.

Of course I have the memories stored away in my mind, but we also have a memory box filled with various things which all relate to Ewan. Things that are tangible that we can take out and look at.  I knew quite early on that I wanted to buy a special keepsafe. A beautiful box to keep everything in. An online search eventually took me to Reads Creations, a company making personalised wooden memory boxes. They had just what we wanted. And here it is. P1100237 P1100239

dylan-and-memory-box

We usually keep it in our wardrobe so it is neatly tucked away but easily accessible. One day I took it out and left it for a couple of days. Dylan took a shine to it and enjoying sitting on it. I managed to take what is one of my favourite but also most poignant photographs. When he is older he will understand the significance.

 

So what keepsafes do we have? Probably too many to mention so I’ll pick out a few for now.

cards

We received an overwhelming number of cards from family, friends and colleagues and struggled to find places to put them in the house. There were so many kind words and even those which said ‘I don’t know what to say’ still meant so much. Occasionally I will get them out and have a read through some of them. The photograph of my favourite cards is at the top – the pandas. It wasn’t even a bereavement card. It didn’t have any words, just a simple picture. Adam and I thought it summed up how we felt.

I still have cards to add to the box now. One of my dear friends sends me a card every year on Ewan’s birthday. She keeps his memory alive by recognising that he should have a card to celebrate like everybody else.

p1100251

This necklace holds a particularly strong memories for me. I was wearing it the day I went into hospital to find out his heart had stopped. I can visualise myself now, sat in a chair playing with it. I wore it again when I went to give birth and then to his funeral. I carried on wearing it for a while but started to worry I would lose it, so now have it tucked away for safe keeping.

 

p1100249Another dear friend gave me this cross-stitch a couple of months later. I can remember she gave it to me in what seemed to be a bit of an apologetic, ‘I hope you like it’ kind of way. I was so touched that she had gone to the effort of making something like this for us. It was incredibly thoughtful.

We have quite a few photographs. Obviously all his scan photographs are there, including one taken at the scan taken which determined he had died. I always feel a little bit funny about that one. Especially as I didn’t know it existed for a few months until my consultant handed it to me when I was pregnant with Dylan. We have all the photographs we took of him in the hospital. These are in a little album. They are mainly ones taken with our camera but some from the midwife too.

There is plenty more I could show you, but maybe for another day.

It’s at this point that I really want to acknowledge and thanks SANDS for their contribution to our memory box. If it wasn’t for the work SANDS did, particularly in the early days of the charity, then we wouldn’t have the memories we have now. It upsets me to think of the mother of twins in the article. Families left hospital with nothing and weren’t encourage to create their own memories. Instead it they were encouraged to forget and move on. SANDS worked hard to train professionals to make them realise that the ‘out of sight, out of mind’ mentality didn’t work. Acting is though losing a baby never happened wasn’t going to help parents, instead it made it worse. By allowing parents to take photographs and hold their babies, it helped their grieving process enormously.

So for this I am eternally grateful.

Our memory box will also be a painful reminder of the loss of Baby Ewan, but it is also a source of comfort. A reminder of our support network and all the wonderful people who helped us through some dark and difficult times. It is a reminder that Ewan was loved and still is. And most importantly that his memory lives on.

A Bereaved Mother’s Guilt

fb-tw-profile_babylossawareness_-750-x-750-300x300

The first line of Saturday’s blog read ‘Being a mum can be hard sometimes. Really hard.’ It was at the end of a day where I didn’t feel like I’d been a very good mum. Not as good as I thought I should be.

I put a huge amount of pressure on myself to be a perfect mother. It’s ridiculous I know. I’m the kind of person who likes to be in control. I put pressure on myself to cope with anything and everything. I must cope, at all odds. I cannot say that things are too hard, I cannot crumble and I cannot fail.

Why am I like this?

I think part of it is in my nature and my personality. I’m sure anyone who knows me well, in particular those who have worked with me, would agree. But also it is in part down to what I can only and best describe as my burden of guilt, a bereaved mother’s guilt.

I feel so incredibly grateful that I have not one but two beautiful and healthy, living boys. They are good boys. Dylan was an absolutely perfect baby. He slept through from 3 months old, weaned like a dream and cut his baby teeth with barely a murmur. Jude has been a bit more challenging, in all aspects. But still he is much less troublesome than many other babies I know. They are both very sweet tempered and absolutely adore one another. We have been so so lucky.

Of course not every day pans out perfectly (does anyone’s?). Dylan had the terrible two’s at times and could tantrum with the best of them. He suffered from the usual toddler OCD (and still does) whereby food served with the wrong colour spoon or cereal with a splash too much milk would cause a meltdown. Jude having started out as a great sleeper, regressed at about 7 months old. At times an uninterrupted night sleep was very much the exception rather than the norm. Last winter it felt as though he was constantly ill, either bothered by teeth, a cold, sickness, diarrhoea and general whingeyness. It doesn’t feel as though summer has quite gone yet and already the never ending snot-stream has reappeared! Oh and Jude will be about to embark on the terrible two’s in the next few months.

But I think losing Ewan has affected my experiences of motherhood with his two younger brothers. Not in a practical sense, but more psychologically. It’s as though I don’t allow myself to have a bad day, or admit that sometimes it’s too hard. Because by saying that it’s like I’m smacking the face of every person out there who can’t be a parent. That I’m not appreciating what I have. Any mother who has lost a baby would much rather be delirious with sleep deprivation than with grief. They would give their right arm to deal with post-immunisation fever or walk up and down for hours to settle a colicky tummy.

There probably are people out there (especially in Social Media Land), who want to present to the world that parent-hood is fine and dandy, all roses and buttercups. Their parenting world is text-book and there are no negatives (well not that they talk about). Behind closed doors, we all wonder if life really is that perfect. I kind of do the same thing, ok not so much by presenting a perfect life, but trying as much as possible not to moan, or talk about the times when parenting feels sometimes just too hard. The guilt I carry stops me from doing that.

I think (and hope) that over time this will change and get better. As the boys get older, the challenges they present will change. Less about potty training and tantrums, and more about homework and social lives. Maybe as these are less baby related, they might make me think less about the baby we lost. Who knows? Maybe my cathartic method of getting the thoughts out of my head and onto a screen will help! And hopefully you won’t all think I’m crazy for publicising my personality flaws (remember, no-one is perfect!)

Writing as part of Baby Loss Awareness Week.

Breaking the Silence #babyloss

http://babyloss-awareness.org

 

Baby Loss Awareness Week

fb-tw-profile_babylossawareness_-750-x-750-300x300

Being a mum can be hard sometimes. Really hard. But not being a mum, when you really want to be. That’s a whole different ball game.

Tomorrow is the start of Baby Loss Awareness Week. If you asked me 6 years ago whether I’d heard there of such a week, my answer would have been no. If you asked me whether I would be sat up on a Saturday night writing about losing a baby, I would have thought you were mad.

But here I am. A bereaved mother. Unfortunately not alone, but one of many.

It is estimated that one in four women experience pregnancy loss. A quarter. 25%. Before our own loss, I knew of very few people who have been affected. In the few days following Ewan’s death, the number doubled if not tripled. People shared their own experiences or those of friends or relatives. Some were recent, others dated back 40 years. All too quickly, baby loss became far more common that I ever realised. Just less than 3 weeks after losing Ewan, one of my best friends received devastating news about her own pregnancy. The only slither of a silver lining being that I felt I was able to help her because of my own experience.

Talking about the loss of a baby is often taboo. I’ve often thought about why that is. I think generally as a society we don’t like to talk about death. We find it uncomfortable. People don’t know what to say to one another. Most likely for fear of saying the wrong thing. For some reason that is heightened when it is the death of a baby. Whether it is an early miscarriage or a full term pregnancy.

P1100244

Ewan at 12 weeks

As part of Baby Loss Awareness Week I am here to talk about it. Break the Silence. That has always been an aim of my blog, I just unfortunately don’t have the time to write often. But I’ll be honest, I do sometimes worry that people don’t want to read what I have to say about our experiences. I think I should write about jollier things. Silly really. If you don’t want to read, no-one is stopping you.

So unashamedly throughout this week I’ve decided to either write a new blog or share an old one every day. To commemorate but also to embrace. I’ll apologise in advance if they are upsetting (there is always a get out clause – you don’t have to read them). Hopefully for those of you who have ready my posts before, you will know that I try to look for the positives. You know that I consider us to be so incredibly blessed to have two amazing, beautiful, energetic and fun-loving boys, who have helped us to heal in so many ways. But know that we will never ever fully heal. Any bereaved parent will tell you the same.

Please take some time out of your busy lives to find out more about Baby Loss Awareness Week.  About the 24 amazing charities who are involved, who tirelessly raise awareness throughout the year and campaign for change.

http://babyloss-awareness.org/

If you know someone who has lost a baby, take time this week to acknowledge their loss. Whether it was last month, last year or 40 years ago. I am sure they will appreciate a hug or a few words so that they know you have been thinking of them.

Finally, if you can, join the Global Wave of Light on October 15th at 7pm. October 15th is International Pregancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Families all over the world will be remembering their babies who were taken too soon. Light a candle at 7pm and leave it burning for at least an hour. Post your photo to Facebook or Twitter to join the digital Wave of Light using #waveoflight

candles