Monday, 24 February 2014

Finding it harder and harder

People say time heals.

Some people would expect you to be "over it" by now.

Many don't understand how one can be so sad after losing someone you didn't "know"...

Well here's the thing... Time doesn't "heal". You learn how to carry on functioning but it never gets easier. Just less raw.

It has been 21 months since we lost Harry and I most certainly am not over it.

People even thought that having Florence would "make things better".
Wrong again. In some ways it is harder.

I have accepted the facts. I have accepted my feelings. I cannot accept Harry's loss of his tiny life nor the injustice of what happened.

Harry didn't die just because of undiagnosed vasa Praevia. It was a poorly managed birth from start to finish. For more information on this see my previous blog post:

This week I have to prepare a witness statement in my quest to seek justice for Harry. This has bought back many feelings of anger. And this anger is very strong. How dare someone be allowed to get away with taking the life of my child due to laziness or neglect? How is this ok? My child?! My poor baby who was so loved and so wanted and had so many hopes and dreams before him.

And  instead of being at home playing with his family, my son is wrapped in a white blanket and buried in a white casket, because someone had an off day at work.


That is not ok.

And this will not be ok, never ever.

Poor Harry had everything taken away from him.

And I have had everything taken from me.

I lost a massive part of me when he died. And my life will never be as it was.

I will seek justice for my boy. He deserves that.

Monday, 10 February 2014

Unbreakable Bonds

Today I decided that my next counselling session will be my last. I feel funny about that as it has been a wonderful support to me since we lost Harry however I have been coping ok with the trauma side of things and the grief is now part of my life that I can accept and embrace when necessary. I take a very open view to my grief, which is not to hide it away and to understand that I will have days when the grief burden becomes unbearable, and that's ok. After all, I have experienced a hideous event and lost my child so I feel like these emotions and encounters are to be expected.

The trauma side of things seems to be subsiding. I am no longer overwhelmed by it. I feel like I am through the worst and am letting myself let go of the terrible memories whilst holding on to the memories that can make me smile.

I was explaining to my counsellor that right now going to the cemetry is quite painful and I feel guilt that I don't go visit his grave as often as I should. I used to find great peace at the cemetry but at the moment I am reminded of our final goodbye every time I visit and until I am ok with it again I am avoiding it.  I don't want to feel bad as not a day goes by that I don't remember that precious boy, or that I talk about him in someway to someone.

I carry Harry in my heart. I have three amazing children, two that I can see and one that I can't, but my love for all three children is the same. They are all very loved. And that love is something that can never be taken away, not even death can end my love for those children. After death, my love for Harry is just the same as it was when I found out I was expecting, and when I met him for the first time... Just like anyone else you love... Pets, grandparents, friends, any loved one that dies or is no longer a part of your life, for whatever reason. That love you held for that person will remain for always, and nothing can ever change that. Love is permanent.

This sentiment is something I loved so much and wanted to share it. I am lucky to love many people in my life. Some I see frequently, some I don't see as much as I'd like, some I no longer see... but the love I have for those people is constant. While things around us change, bad things happen, or people move on, they move away, death parts us or circles of friendship change, love remains, and is constant.

And with Valentine's Day this week I would like for all those that I love to know how our bonds are unbreakable. Bad things happen, but our bond will always remain.

Love will keep that strong.

Love will get you through the tough times.

Love will bring you happiness when you are sad.

No one can ever take that away... not even death, the most final of things.

Saturday, 1 February 2014

Coming Full Circle

Tomorrow we are getting our beautiful rainbow baby christened. I cannot wait.

We have made lots of lovely plans, picked some lovely outfits, food and decorations for our little girl's special day.

I am so excited to see everyone and to celebrate the wonderful gift I have been blessed with, my beautiful daughter, Florence Ruth. My wish come true. 

And also to watch our dearest friends become her godparents. To guide her through her life laid out before her.

However, admist this happiness, I will be thinking of our sweet boy, Harry. The last time we were all in that church Harry was there with us. Lying in his forever bed, his little white casket. I miss him deeply, and while I know Florence is our gift from Harry - my heart will always ache in pain, carrying this love for Harry that cannot be placed.

As we walk up the steps tomorrow carrying our beautiful girl in her wonderful christening gown, I will remember the hardest walk up those same steps. Harry's Dad carrying the tiny white box, and me, just days after the emergency caeserean still on massive pain relief, holding his arm as we faced the final goodbye to our son. Florence tomorrow will be wrapped in our beautiful family shawl. The same shawl William was wrapped in at his christening, and the same shawl that Harry was wrapped in when we said our goodbyes in the hospital. Memories....

We had Harry baptised in the neonatal unit. One of the few things that we were able to do for Harry. When the minister came to our house a few weeks ago to discuss the service he read the words that would be used in the service to us. Bang - there I was suddenly back in the NNU, stuck in the hospital bed, next to Harry's cot, stroking his foot whilst the hospital chaplain baptised Harry, with Harry's dad and my parents watching on. Tomorrow as we baptise Florence, I will remember the words we read for little Harry. 

I feel lucky that we were able to do that for Harry. It means that all three of my children have been welcomed into God's family. It is special.

With all this sadness however, it is still a special happy occassion. My family and my friends tomorrow will be thanking God for this incredibly precious gift that we have been blessed with. 

The most loved and most wanted little girl.

"We prayed for this child and the Lord answered my prayer" 

a special passage from the Bible that means so much, that we now have this on a plaque in Florie's bedroom.

I also wanted to share this lovely poem, that I may or may not get a chance to read tomorrow at Florie's party. I hope you like it xxx

A Different Child
poem by Pandora MacMillian

People notice
There’s a special glow around you.
You grow
Surrounded by love,
Never doubting you are wanted;
Only look at the pride and joy
In your mother and father’s eyes.
And if sometimes
Between the smiles
There’s a trace of tears,
One day
You’ll understand.
You’ll understand
There was once another child
A different child
Who was in their hopes and dreams.
That child will never outgrow the baby clothes
That child will never keep them up at night
In fact, that child will never be any trouble at all.
Except sometimes, in a silent moment,
When mother and father miss so much
That different child.
May hope and love wrap you warmly
And may you learn the lesson forever
How infinitely precious
How infinitely fragile
Is this life on earth.
One day, as a young man or woman
You may see another mother’s tears
Another father’s silent grief
Then you, and you alone
Will understand
And offer the greatest comfort.
When all hope seems lost,
You will tell them
With great compassion,
“I know how you feel.
I’m only here
Because my mother tried again