Tuesday, 16 October 2012


So yesterday was International Baby Loss Awareness & Remembrance Day It was a funny day for me.

I spent a lot of the day thinking about Harry, but also about the babies of the mothers who have also lost, that I have come to meet since losing Harry. I was thinking about their tiny lives, some that had barely lived outside of their mother's wombs and some that were born asleep. I was thinking about how sad it is that they didn't get to experience some of life's joys and precious moments, how they will never feel the love of their families and how they have missed out on such a lot. This is something I am currently struggling with on my "grief journey". As I mentioned in my previous entry, I have accepted "my loss" - what I am finding very hard to accept is Harry's loss, and I think that is something I will struggle with for quite some time, as it is something very deep.

 I have always believed that everything happens for a reason and I have questioned why on earth this has happened to me? What kind of lesson am I being taught by losing my son? And what kind of lesson did Harry have to learn from this tragedy? I spoke about this, today, with my counsellor. She put this into a wonderful perspective for me, that I wanted to share with you. She said "what if during Harry's time with you in your womb, he learnt everything he needed to, as he was already pretty perfect?" I like that. I like to think that Harry experienced what he needed to from us while he was still growing and that he can now watch from afar, until he is ready to return in whatever way he will.

 I was thinking yesterday about Harry and about his short time with us and remembering those precious few hours that we spent together, and was thinking about all the other mother's that go through "baby loss" as I met with my consultant obstetrician, I asked him how many babies are lost each year, and to give me some kind of perspective he said he was one of eight consultants at that hospital, and he sees probably one a week (we are talking about pregnancy loss and neonatal deaths here). Wow. That is 52 a year just seeing my consultant, that's not counting the other seven consultants, or any of the other mothers losing their babies that are not under consultant care. And there was me thinking it was only me who knew what baby loss felt like. How wrong I was. So when I lit my candles last night, I lit a big candle for my darling boy, and twenty little candles in rememberance of all those babies - and that is an awful lot of angel babies, and grieving families. It makes me a bit sad that baby loss is such a taboo subject, and I feel like there are probably a lot of ignorant people who will close their eyes to my blog and to my FaceBook posts about it, but I hope that in some way, by my discussing Harry and my loss, that it might become more acceptable to discuss openly, as one would discuss the loss of say a grandparent or parent.

 It isn't just on days like yesterday, when we set aside days of rememberance, that I am reminded of my loss. I was recently reminded when I least expected to, whilst combing my hair. How cruel nature is... I found clumps and clumps of my hair falling out. This, apparently, is hormonal and happens in the months after giving birth as your hormones adjust to no longer carrying a baby. This happened when I had William, and I found bald patches! Lovely. I have actually got a lot of new hair growing around my hairline and seeing the hair falling out was another reminder that I had given birth, but had no baby here to make these dreadful circumstances bearable. Obviously, I have my scar to remind me of this loss too and sometimes get a rather nasty sharp pain in it, just as another cruel dig, and also many, many stretch marks across my stomach. How nice.

 I also receive lots of emails from companies telling me what Harry should be doing at this time in his life. What a wonderful reminder when I check my inbox! "What your 15 week old should be doing!" .... no, he isn't doing those things, thank you - I was constantly emailling these companies to unsubscribe to these kind reminders but sadly my requests fall on deaf ears so I have learnt to turn a blind eye to these and just select the delete option.

 I had my six monthly check up with the dentist this week, and as I am still under a maternity certificate (up to 12 months after giving birth you receive free dental care) I was signing the forms and the lady asked me to complete my baby's date of birth. Ugh, a blow to the stomach. I filled it in, holding back the tears that once again I had been caught off guard.

 I have just got home from a meeting at the hospital regarding Harry's Trust where I met with the senior matron on the neonatal ward to discuss how the money the Trust has raised will be spent, and returning to the ward was a very strange one. The last time I was there was when I was saying goodbye to the little man. Pressing the security buzzer to be granted access was a weird feeling of dread, nausea and intrigue. Half of me kind of expected to walk down the corridor to see Harry there on the unit, hooked up to all the monitors. "Don't be so ridiculous" I had to keep telling myself. "You have said goodbye, and you have buried him, he is not here on the unit". But I actually think that he was... For the very first time since losing Harry, today I felt his presence. Like he was with me. And now, when I think about him, I feel like he is giving me a hug around my shoulders. Strange, but very lovely.

 Thank you for finding me Harry, I feel much better knowing your spirit is with me, at last. xxx


  1. There are no words really, but what a beautiful post x x

  2. an amazing post, and an amazing thing you are doing having the strenght to post and help so many others, and what a reminder to us all to go and hug our children and you your William and thank God for them, I know you have never met me, I am a SNUG member, I had my twins the same time as Lisa had her little Elsie, I met alot of wonderful people and am very pleased we have kept in touch, I feel sorry I didnt meet you at the ballon release, I should have tred harder to make it, I was thinking o you though. To fallow on from something you said in your post, someone I knwo says that people are born and die and keep doing so untill they have achieved all that thay must to cross over to angles I guess, I dont remember that bit, but that you are right and maby being born to your family was his purfect finish of all he needed to, that he held on just long enough to be held in your arms and feel you love first, he (my friend) continued to say that disabled people before they are born/concieved are people who have almost finished their journey, in a selfless act, choose to come to eart in that way to help others finish their journeys through life and learn etc, sorry if I have gone on to much, and I will say a pray for your family, you sound very strong Ellie