To the delivery team....

To the team who delivered my son.

Four years ago, my son was born. Just another day at work for you, but not just another day for me.

I had everything ready. His crib, his room, his clothes. My bags were packed full of boys clothes to dress my new baby in. A blanket that had been handmade to cuddle him in. A card from his big brother.

I was excited, watching the hormone drip going into my arm knowing it would soon be time to meet our son. I trusted your care, and was reassured even when we were left on our own, that the monitoring equipment could be accessed in the midwife's station. Everything was in hand.

The midwife came to check my progress and just as we removed the blanket covering my legs, we both saw fresh blood on my legs and on the bed. It was everywhere. "Don't worry" I was told "bleeding is quite common during labour". OK, I thought, and went back to my conversation with my husband and my mum, about something completely insignificant, while the midwife went about changing the pads and blankets.

A while later, the matron came in to check the monitor. Again, everything was fine, nothing to worry about. A doctor wanted to check something with a more senior colleague who was on the phone. It couldn't be that important if it could wait.....

About an hour had passed and very suddenly I was presented with some documents to sign as I was going to be undertaking an emergency c section. No real explanation but I was told it was important things happened quickly. My husband changed his clothes for the scrubs he had been handed and suddenly I was wheeled down to the theatre for delivery.

I could hear Harry's heartrate through the monitor I was hooked up to and on our way down to theatre it got slower and slower and slower..... my heart was in my mouth. Slowly it started to recover but not to the speed of a normal heartbeat.

Do you remember this day? I hope that you do.
Can you remember your role in his delivery? Is it etched in to your memory as it is mine?

A day I will never forget.

When Harry was born, he didn't cry. There were no sounds. The next sound to be heard was my voice, asking what was happening. You couldn't tell me. You knew something had gone horribly wrong.

No one would make eye contact. No one would give me any proper kind of explanation.

"Your son is poorly" I was told. Poorly is not even a fraction of what he was suffering.

I remember this day every day. It has been FOUR years. Four years of replaying this scene, over and over in my head. Yes, I have post traumatic stress, Yes, I have received extensive therapy and yes, I am on long term medication to help with these horrific flashbacks.

Four years,

Harry lived a very short life after his delivery.
He died when he was only twenty six hours old.
His life was spent on machines, being fed medication and having test after test.
What a life.

Yes - he met his whole family during that time,
He was christened in the intensive care unit.
He died in my arms. During our first and last cuddle.

I then had to plan his funeral.
People came from all over the country to say their goodbyes to this tiny baby.
All of us still in shock that such a tiny life had been taken so soon.
I watched his coffin being lowered into the ground. This moment was, and will always be the most hideous moment of my entire life. Nothing can compare.

And then, I had to carry on my life.
To "move on".

I was given the line from you guys, that "nothing more could have been done". That "everything that could have been done was done". That this awful condition, vasa praevia, was to blame for this turn of events.

I believed you.
I trusted you.

I put ALL of my energy and time into raising awareness of this condition, so that others might not suffer as Harry did.  I raised money for your hospital to improve it's offering as a way of thanking you for all you did for Harry.

My mum and my husband felt there was something more sinister involved in Harry's death and I chose to ignore them. To quiet their minds I asked a solicitor to look over my notes. She undercovered a whole mountain of errors and just over three years on from Harry's death, you FINALLY admitted the truth.

You had messed up.
You hadn't followed guidelines.
You hadn't done your jobs properly.

You left me to bleed my son's blood.
You didn't act.
You waited for a colleague to finish a phonecall.
You didn't deem this dire situation to be the top level emergency until it was too late.

You failed.

Not just once. But many, many times during Harry's delivery. A whole catalogue of total neglect.

You took the life of my son.
My baby boy.
My precious cargo that I had carried for so long.

You. You are responsible.

This loss I feel will be carried with me for my whole life.
A hole. An aching. A gut wrenching pain.

Today is his birthday. We should be having cake and fun with his friends. Opening presents and blowing out candles.

Yet, I am sat in tears writing this letter to you.

I need an apology.
What I have been fed from your litigation team "we apologise for any inconvenience we might have caused your client (Harry)" is just not good enough.

I want to know that you are sorry. Not that lessons have been learnt, because they damn well should have been,

I deserve an apology.
Harry deserves an apology.

We deserve some respect.

Our settlement continues months and months after admission of guilt.
You are now nit picking over finances, which will never replace our son, but there is no other way to ensure that some kind of justice is done for our son.

Settle our case. Let us move on with our lives.

This we ask in Harry's name.

Niki Cunningham
Harry's Mummy

Hitting the Bottom

When you lose a baby no one tells you that the journey you are going to go on will never end....

You kind of expect to feel really bad for a few months, but then things will return to normal.

Well, it has been almost three years since we said goodbye to our beautiful boy and normality has yet to return.

There is not a day that goes by that I don't recall the events of 8th June 2012.

Not a day that goes by when I crave just one more cuddle.

"Normality" to me would mean no more sadness and no more emptiness and no more loss.

But, three years on and things are still very hard indeed.

I guess you grow a thick skin, you learn to paint on the perfect smile so people don't think "why isn't she over it yet?" , you keep busy, you distract yourself...

On Harry's birthday last year it hit me harder than it had done, and the months that followed saw me not really recover from such a low point. Things got harder and harder, and I began to find daily routine almost too much to handle. I was having the darkest thoughts, thoughts I never imagined I could think. I was suffering such terrible pain, and everything I was trying to make myself better was not helping. I tried to keep busy, I tried to distract myself.... it wasn't enough. I was so worried after a couple of episodes of planning how to take my own life, that I sought help. I was referred to the "Crisis Team" and was given a programme of counselling and post traumatic stress therapy called EMDR, and have tried a couple different medications to help me recover.

I have now found a medication that works for me, and it has given me my energy back and my counselling has given me focus and the help I needed to get control back over my life.

My counselling has taught me how to deal with my trauma memories, and to keep the absolutely crushing feelings from becoming overwhelming. I now feel ready to move on to a new chapter in my life. I have spent three years in shock, in denial, in pain and in anger, sadness, resentment and disappointment,

I am now ready to concentrate on my future, the future of my family - who have helped me so much through these dark times, and the future of the work I carry out to honour the name of my beautiful son.

I imagine I will always have times when I have a blip and the dark times will return, but I know I can come out of them. I know that this is a lifelong journey but I really hope this is the end of this very hard time and that things can only get better....

A Rainbow Day...

Tomorrow, it is Florence's first birthday. I can't quite believe that my precious baby girl is going to be a one year old. I guess as she is still pretty tiny due to coming early she doesn't look like a one year old, but the fact is she is trying to walk and really is becoming a proper little character, I am in denial that she really is growing up.

How do I feel about tomorrow? I think any mother is emotional for her children's birthdays. Especially first ones. The drama of their arrival is still pretty fresh and the many milestones achieved in their first year as they develop from helpless little newborns into great, big, chunky, wobbly toddlers.

I have spent a lot of time these last few days remembering Florie's arrival....

I do this with Harry around his significant dates too. 

It was his birthday back in June and I didn't write. 

Harry's second birthday hit me way harder than his first. 

Remembering the build up to his birthday, like the day my waters broke, the day I was induced, and then watching the clock to the crucial moment when his bleed was discovered... all that time was really hard for me this year and I found myself in a very dark place indeed. Missing Harry has been an intense physical pain over his birthday period and thinking about all the things he was missing out on as a two year old is heartbreaking. This year, darkness overtook my life and made me feel numb, hopeless and emotionally and physically drained. I felt empty and just didn't know what would make this better. 

I am better now, after realising I was in a dark place and learning how to cope with this and accepting that this darkness is a part of my grief and a part of my life now, as a bereaved mother. The club I can never leave, it is now part of who I am. I can try to keep busy and for me this works as an antidepressant to some point, but when I am not busy, the world is not a nice place to be me...

Anyway, back to Florie. I have been remembering when her movements slowed down and no one would listen to me. It was all about my anxiety after losing Harry and everyone shrugged it off. Thank God I put my foot down, as otherwise our little girl would've joined Harry, and I would be the mother of two angels. I am so lucky that at the right moment, I was listened to, and at the right moment our little lady was welcomed to the world.

She had a bumpy start, the doctors were very worried about Florence as she has some very irregular blood tests and they could not figure out what was wrong with her, and couldn't even tell me if she was going to live! They were really not sure what to do and talks of a transfer to Bristol were on the cards, and a full blood transfusion was just a few marks on her graph away. I was frightened but prayed harder than I've ever prayed. And somehow, by some total miracle Florie proved them all wrong and made a strong recovery, and we were allowed home.

(Here is a little video I made about her NNU journey... http://web.photodex.com/view/d78dwbm4)

Ever since then she has bought such joy to our lives. She has turned William into the most fantastic, caring, older brother. The brother he had wanted to be with Harry, he now can be to Florence. She loves him so much, she always has a smile for her brother. They love playing together and it really is a very special bond between our special boy who got us through the darkest times and our special girl, who has brightened the world for us.

She is a very happy young lady, very inquistive, very determined, very social and very vocal. I have no idea who she takes after! I love her so much, but having lost Harry before her makes her even more special and even more precious. I have seen how easy life can be taken away, and I am so protective of my little lady. I am also aware of how much love I had in my heart for Harry and how it was hard to know what to do with that love. So now I really embrace every loving feeling I have for my children and feel so lucky to have that chance to feel those moments.

I have been blessed with the ability to treasure every second of every day with my children, and watching them grow and learn has been a beautiful gift. Losing Harry broke my heart but it has taught me to be grateful for the small gifts life brings. Meeting new friends, the kindness of others, the laughter of children, giving a gift to someone, a sunny day, a beautiful new flower, a sunset, the way my dog greets me when I come home, the great feeling exercise gives you, an amazing cup of coffee.... just little things, but they make my day special.

Before Florence, I felt there was a massive void in my life and she has shown me the beauty life has, threw the darkness there is light. And when the light shines, life is wonderful.

What a gift to bring to her mother. How grateful I am.

I hope one day I can explain to her how precious she is.

Until then, I will enjoy the little moments :)

Happy Birthday gorgeous xxx

Eating away at me.....

In this blog, I have touched on the impact of loss on parenting.

These last few months have been tough for me as Florence is learning to eat by herself.

Cue mother in a state of anxiety every meal time.
Heart racing.
Panic striken.
Reliving nightmares...

Why am I doing this to myself?

To begin with I would only feed Florence myself, food that was pureed into a pulp with absolutely no lumps. We were doing well. I started introducing lumpy food and would panic whenever she gagged, even the tiniest bit.

Finger food - oh my god. What a nightmare this is. She needs to learn, and she is absolutely an independant young lady, so she really wants to learn too.

Every single meal time I am on edge. Worrying about the worst case scenario.

At her nursery they are fully confident in her ability and she gets to explore all kinds of food.

I want to do this too.

I am trying....

We fed her the other night, she was eating some rice cakes, while I spoke to her dad. She has a really bad cough and cold at the moment as well, and I looked at her she had a massive piece of rice cake in her mouth. The next thing she starts coughing and suddenly the massive piece of rice cake has disappeared.

Inside my head:
Oh my god.... where has that gone???? She has swallowed it??! She's choking....!!!

I freak out, and start hitting her on the back.

She's fine, but my over zealous back patting has hurt her and she is crying.

She is fine.

I am an idiot.

Relief - she is fine.

What an idiot, she is crying.....

I burst into tears... why do I feel like this? I feel like this because I can't lose another one. My children mean so much to me, I love them dearly. I am also truly broken from having to bury one of them, and now my remaining children will always be watched like a hawk.

This is a shame. I don't want to suffocate their souls. I want to let them be free to grow into their own people.

I am trying so hard.... but I miss Harry so much, I don't want to miss another one........

Darkest days...

One of the songs we played at Harry's funeral was "Everybody Hurts" by REM. An amazing song, that touches everyone who listens to it. I felt it was appropriate for Harry's funeral as it totally sums up dark feelings.

Not everyone knows this, but for years I have struggled with depression. I have days when I can be totally upbeat and for the most part that is who I am. But for a good couple chunks of my life I have had depression of varying kinds. When I was a teenager I struggled with a few issues in my life and found the need to control certain things helped me with my depression. As I got older I found losing control over certain things made me anxious, anxiety lead to darkness. I had some counselling to deal with these issues but I don't think it ever really goes away. I think some people are more prone to depression than others. After having William I was diagnosed with postnatal depression, and some of those days were days I never want to relive. When I was pregnant with Harry I was diagnosed with antenatal depression, something that upsets me massively now knowing the aftermath... why on earth was I depressed while I was carrying him? This depression made me unable to bond with Harry, which to me is a sign I knew something wasn't going to work out.

Since losing Harry, I wouldn't say I have been "depressed", but suffering with severe grief, alongside post-traumatic stress disorder. But as this grief and the PTSD have become part of my every day life I have been surprised to see days of my old "depression" sneaking back in. I have found a good way of controlling this is by keeping my mind busy. The busier and more occupied I am, the less time I have to think. I also have quite an addictive personality, which has got me into trouble in the past with various things and I need to be careful that keeping myself occupied doesn't lead to an addiction or an obsession (OCD).

The thing I have been most concerned about though is the "is it all worth it" thoughts. I used to think this pretty much every day after losing Harry and quite a bit during my various low spells. But if I find myself unoccupied or alone then these thoughts have started to come back to me again. I know most people would be totally shocked to hear this, as most days I paint on a happy face for people to see, and most of the time this is genuine, but not many people know the me behind the smile. I have thought about what would be the quickest and least gruesome way to do it, so it's over with fast. Some days I feel like I am done. I would like to just be reunited with my son. Not have to be in this dark place anymore.

But,  I will tell you why I haven't done it. My family. They would be the ones to find me... who wants that stuck in their mind forever? They would have to go on, wondering why I wasn't happy enough to carry on, and if it was their fault I felt the way I did. I can't do that to them. So, on I must go. Carry on through the darkness.

And as I think about these dark times, I remember the song...
When your day is long
And the night, the night is yours alone
When you're sure you've had enough
Of this life, well hang on
Don't let yourself go'
Cause everybody cries
And everybody hurts sometimes

Watch the video CLICK HERE


I am lucky that I have some really lovely friends and family who make the dark times easier. Catching up with a lovely friend or seeing my kids smiles make the world a brighter place. I hope one day the dark days disappear forever and leave my poor brain alone. For now, I will keep myself busy and keep my mind occupied with pretty things and happy thoughts :)

Living with a broken heart

After listening to many love songs about unrequited love, or love that could never be - and seeing the true similarities in grief and relationships ending I have decided that grief can be compared to having a broken heart.

People who know me, or have come to know me, will know that I am not one to hide my feelings, I wear my heart on my sleeve and I tell it how it is. Same for my relationships. I fall in love quickly, I express my feelings openly and I am really an all or nothing kind of girl. Sadly, when I was "dating" - being this way has meant I had my heart broken many times.  I will admit I was young and naive, I haven't had the best luck but am lucky to have found someone now that wants the same things I do, and while we have had our ups and downs as any couple do, we are both realists and we both live for the moment. But, some of the break ups looking back, were worse than others, but in hindsight there are a few times that stand out for me.

I adored these people and loved every second of being with them. Making me laugh, sharing stories, being silly together and enjoying each others company. I had let myself dream about the future. And then one day, suddenly it was all over. They had changed their mind, or some circumstance or another meant that what we had would no longer work.

The first time this happened, I was beside myself. I didn't know what I could do to make it right again.
The second time, I was confused and left wondering what I had done wrong.
The third time, I felt utterly let down and as though the person I thought I was in love with, wasn't that person at all.

I felt gutted, really sad and so disappointed.

I was certainly miserable afterwards, but after a period of time had passed, I thought I had better pick myself and move on. I would always feel sad that things hadn't worked out the way I had hoped but keeping busy would help me to stop thinking about what went wrong and focus on making myself stronger, better and happier.

This is kind of the same as to how I feel about losing Harry.

Losing Harry was obviously a total shock. The realisation that things weren't going to plan, and sat listening to the dear doctor delivering us the terrible news that Harry had suffered considerable trauma and the outlook was not good..... that was like sitting there and listening to your boyfriend telling you that things were no longer "working out". I remember wishing and hoping that this doctor had got it wrong and that somehow things would turn around and our little boy would be just fine.  Just like when I'd been "dumped" I was trying to figure out what I could do, to make it all go away.

When I got to meet Harry, I remember sitting next to his little bed. Staring at him, taking him in, the way that a new mother does. I was so confused. How had this happened? How is my baby so, so poorly? Did I do something to make him be born this way? So many questions, and no answers. Just like being heartbroken before, and wondering what I had done wrong for it to be all over.

After we said goodbye to Harry, I cried and cried. The baby that I had hopes and dreams for, so many plans... it was all over. I had gone into hospital to give birth, I had a bag full of clothes to dress my baby in. And yet, I was returning to the room with all his things, a new teddy, some babygros, a blanket.... and no baby. I felt emptiness. Such total sadness. This baby I had really loved for nine months, was gone. He would not be the baby we all wanted. Just like the last time I was heartbroken, and I sat feeling sadness and emptiness because the man I loved was not that man at all. It was all a fantasy. Just like the life I had planned for Harry.

I truly believe that everything happens for a reason. I have said this many times before.

All those sad times in my past have made me who I am today.

I believe every event in your life has a place on your "life path".

I know that losing Harry was the most terrible thing I have ever endured, and nothing for the rest of my days will ever compare to what happened with Harry. But do you know what? That knowledge gives me such strength. I have battled the worst, and came out the other side. So I feel like, bring on anything else. I can cope with it.

I said that after my heartbreaks, I would try really hard to focus on something and become stronger. Things like going to university far away from where he was, finding a new job in a different sector, or just focussing on a project to distract myself. This is the same way I have coped after losing Harry. Harry's Trust has been the thing that has carried me through all of this nightmare. I tried to find something that would keep my mind busy and it really has! The other side to Harry's Trust has been that his name and memory can live on to help others, and when things get really chaotic and crazy, it is that that keeps me going. I am doing this for Harry and for all the other families, who have sick babies, or babies that die or suffer with vasa praevia.

I was inspired to write this after singing along to a song today in the car (one of my favourite pastimes, but I can't sing too well, so it won't take me very far!) Paloma Faith's "Only love can hurt like this" and it reminded me of how rubbish I had felt when love had hurt me. Even though my life has moved on past those times, now and again I am reminded.

But, the deepest hurt I have ever felt is the sadness I carry for Harry.

And that is because I love him. I love him so much. A mother's love is greater than anything.

The difference between a relationship ending and the loss of your baby is that you might one day bump into your ex, or hear from them randomly, or have someone tell you all about their latest news. Sometimes, hearing certain things can be cutting. On the other hand, I have heard many interesting stories about relationships ending, even in the messiest of ways, and sometimes they get back together. They remember what they had was special. They had missed each other, and their company. I like stories like that as I am big old soppy romantic at heart. Especially stories about high school sweethearts who have been apart for years and years and one day the timing is right again. How lovely. (Awkward note: That is not to say I want to get back with my high school sweetheart, if he is reading this then I am so happy that you are happy!!! I am very happy with my life the way it is ;-) )

The loss of your baby is so final. You say goodbye and that is that. He is gone. I won't get the chance to ask Harry if he remembered "that time" or look through fun photos of us together. I won't get the chance to ask friends how he is getting on.  I hope that Harry will always remember that wonderful day we had together. I hope the love I gave him wraps him up like a great big hug, and keeps him feeling safe and secure and happy. I hope that he is watching over our little family, as we go about our days and how we all miss him so very much. And, just like I like the stories where love is reunited, I know that one day, me and my boy will be together again.

Like all wonderful things, it will be worth the wait. <3 xxx

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:

http://missingharry.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/worse-than-we-couldve-imagined.html?m=1

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.

No.

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.

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.

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

So this is Christmas....

Suddenly, it is Christmas Eve. A year has passed since we shared the news about our rainbow pregnancy, and a year has passed since the "first Christmas as a bereaved mother".

At the beginning of the Christmas period I was busy after holding "Harry's Ball" at the end of November and suddenly I had millions of Christmas errands to run, presents to buy etc that I barely had time to think. Suddenly, plans were being made and things were getting done.

Today, as I finished the last of  my jobs I felt relief. But it has been a very, very long time since I have had real time to think. I have been so busy planning the ball, being a mum, organising Christmas, seeing friends and going to Christmas parties, that today when it was all done, my mind was allowed to be free.

I don't allow this often as it doesn't always work in my favour.

This thinking time fell in line with our Christmas visit to Harry. Hard to believe a year has passed since we visited him and decorated the huge tree with Christmas decorations. This year we had bought Harry his own Christmas tree and decorted that a few weeks ago. But today, as I walked up the hill to Harry's special place, it was so sunny I couldn't see Harry's spot. I walked up with William who was excited to do our Christmas things with Harry. I felt overcome with sadness as I walked up the hill... "this is our second Christmas without Harry" I was thinking "This year he would be beginning to understand the magic of Christmas. He would be such an excellent friend for William." I began imagining a Christmas Day with Harry as a part of it, and enjoyed the imagery. Then, bang, back to reality. Here I am stood in a cemetery. I am here because my son died. The facts are overwhelming sometimes. I feel anger, I feel pain and I feel resentment. Why did this happen to me? Why do I have to come to this cemetery at Christmas to decorate my son's grave. I still can't believe it happened. I feel cheated. Cheated out of such happiness.

Tonight, I was a proud mummy as I watched William enjoy all the Christmas preparations. Leaving out the mince pie and carrot, hoping Santa will come in the morning. As I watched him, I felt sadness again. There is always going to be a huge part of my Christmas that is missing. I love Christmas, it is a beautiful time. Friends and family celebrating and making happy times. And one of my children is missing. I think as Christmas is all about the kids I will probably always find it hard. As well as it being another milestone of time without my boy.

I have enjoyed this Christmas so far. Lots of fun times with some wonderful friends and although it has been a bit of a rush I am looking forward to William opening his presents in the morning.

Thank you to everyone who have included Harry in their Christmas this year. He will always be a part of my Christmas, but it is nice to know people are always thinking of him, and us.

I have absolutely turned a corner in my grief, but I still have days where it hits me like a blow to the stomach. When you least suspect it. Today was one of those days.

I have been enjoying watching Florence develop too, and what a wonderful blessing she is, a gift from Harry to help mend Mummy's broken heart. She is a wonderful little girl and brings me such joy.

Through this joy, and the change of mindset I have had recently, I have begun to see the wonder in things again and to feel real happiness and to never take things for granted. I have certainly been a lucky girl this year with all the fun and happy times I have experienced and while there are always a few things I would change for it to be absolutely perfect, I am able to enjoy the ride until then :)

Merry Christmas everybody - and Merry Christmas to my beautiful Harry. Enjoy your day with the other angel babies, and hope Santa find you up in the stars.

Thank you for holding my hand and my heart through the good times and the bad. xxx

The pursuit of happiness...

What a nice month I have had!
Not sure how often you will hear me say that!!!

I last wrote in the weeks leading up to Harry's Ball and spoke about life being too short to be miserable. This last month that has absolutely been my focus.

The Ball went amazingly. We fundraised very successfully and raised tonnes of awareness of our work and everyone who attended seemed to really enjoy the evening. I certainly did! It was a rare occurrence for me to be able to enjoy an event i had planned but I did!

I have also enjoyed my time with the children and am trying to be more "in the moment" with them. Time seems to be racing by at the moment so I am trying to savour every minute with them and plan lots to do together.

I have also spent time with some old friends and some new, this month has really been full of really exciting times.

Being December as  well we have lots of festivities ahead and the next few weeks are looking to be as fun as the last few.

So before when I was concerned I would never enjoy myself again, I have just proved that it is possible. All this goes without saying however this doesn't mean I have forgotten my experiences or that I want to. It also doesn't mean that because I have lost a child that in some way I am now no longer allowed to enjoy myself or I should behave in a certain way. I am still me, I am still Niki, and these  last few weeks I have really been the old me and have really loved feeling that way again.

Harry has been at the forefront of my happiness though. He has shown me that I need to enjoy myself and enjoy what I have and the time I have. To have fun and to be silly and carefree now and again. You live once and no one can tell you how long that life is for.

Being Christmas as well Harry has also been on my mind. This would be his second Christmas. Tomorrow I am decorating his grave and  this year I am looking forward to it.

I also have been thinking about 2014 and the plans I made at the start of the year:
http://missingharry.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/reflecting-on-year-gone-by.html?m=1

I don't think I have done too badly.

Need to make a list for 2014.  Think it's going to be another busy one!!!!

Everybody's Changing but I Still Feel the Same

I can hardly believe it is soon time for the second annual Harry's Ball.

It is insane that Harry would be coming up for 18 months next month.

My beautiful rainbow baby is now four months and starting to be weaned.

Time is passing by...

Relationships are changing, new friendships are forming and the world keeps turning.

And yet, I am still carrying this sadness for my boy who isn't here.

Harry's Trust is truly evolving and is going from strength to strength. A real honour to be able to do something so positive to keep Harry's memory alive. And is giving me such purpose in life, to use my skills to help others, and to keep my promise to Harry. This past month has whizzed by as the days are jammed full of family activities, chores and charity responsibilities.

People have asked me, how am I feeling now that time has passed.... now that Florence is here, are things easier? I cannot believe my son has been an angel for 18 months, as I can still barely believe it happened.

I have days when I am walking along and I stop and think "did that happen to me?" as sometimes it feels like it was someone else.

Sometimes the pain is just numbness and I am unable to feel anything other than shock.

Sometimes I think about my boy, and how he was with us for the shortest time, but I watched him breathe, I watched him try to open his eyes, I watched him as my mum tickled his feet and he pulled them away. And then I think about when we said goodbye. As I held him and he took his final breaths. Was he happy? Did he feel my love? I would do anything to have that moment back as there is so many things I want to say to him. So many more photos to take. God, it is unbelievably hard to think of all the things I wanted to do with that boy, but so suddenly his heart had stopped beating and I no longer knew what was acceptable behaviour with a baby that had died and he was taken to the mortuary.

I wish so bad that someone had taken the time to show me how I could've done a few motherly acts for my child. I am always so grateful to the undertaker who allowed us the time and space to spend time with Harry in the funeral parlour, and let me dress Harry in the beautiful outfit I had chosen for him. I will always remember that time with Harry as it was the one time I was able to be his Mummy.

I have been chatting to the parent of a little girl who shared Harry's due date recently. He sent me a photo of his little girl as a newborn to use in a video for the Trust, and he apologised as he knew it would be hard for me. Now, this little girl will always be our Harry-gauge. When she starts to grow, and to talk or to learn something or achieve a milestone in her life, I will always think of Harry. To begin with, it was painful and although this photo had been on FaceBook, at the time it was posted I was unable to look at it as it hurt too much. But now, I am so happy to watch this beautiful girl growing and changing and becoming a little person, with a smile and a fondness and she helps me feel Harry's soul and how he should be now. I am sad he isn't here but his soul is still growing and up there with the angels, that is just the little boy he would be right now. What a precious reminder she is.

So how am I feeling 18 months into my journey? It is certainly still a journey. There are certainly days that I just want to cry, or be angry about why Harry isn't here. But I think those days will always be here. I can be grateful however that I met my boy and I knew him and I loved him so very much. It is that love that keeps me going. And that love that is poured into Harry's Trust to help turn his terrible time into something more positive.

I can also say that I am extremely lucky to have so many wonderful friends that I can talk to about all this, who won't judge and who will listen. I am so grateful as I think my journey would be very different without these people.

I still have the same feelings inside, and I know I am certainly more in control of them, but they are still there.

And while I say everyone around me is changing, I think I have changed too. I think I am realising more and more that life is short, to seize the day, to live and laugh, and to have fun. So now I am thinking, what changes do I need to make to be the happiest I can be? To fulfil my destiny?

My mum once told me "Life is too short to be miserable" - she is right.

The beginning of Harry

Today is Halloween.
By the way I love Halloween. I make a huge deal of out it and for me now it's a bit of a distraction about what follows on 1st November.

The 1st November 2011 I discovered I was expecting Harry. I will remember that day forever.

I has taken test after test as I was late and they were all negative and I couldn't understand what was happening to my body. That day I was at work and came home for lunch and I'd bought a pack of tests from the supermarket. Anyway I thought it wouldn't hurt to take another test and there we had it. A lovely positive test.

Anyway that day stuck with me as although I was really happy to be carrying another child, my mind started to fill with "what about..." Scenarios. Like what about William, how will I cope with two, what about my job, how will they react, what about our families, how will they react so soon after William? Then after that I started worrying about every little thing and worked myself up.
My work were a huge pain in the backside and tried to fire me for being pregnant which was insane and I also wound up in hospital with hyperemesis.

The pregnancy was a tough one and I never felt like I could bond with this baby. I always had a feeling of huge fear that something bad was going to happen but no one took that seriously.

A girlfriend reminded me recently of the time she'd seen me last which was before Harry had been born (I went into hiding after losing Harry until giving birth to Florence so if you spent time with me in the meantime frankly you are one of a few!) and she told me about how I just knew something bad was going to happen. Strange. I'd forgotten that. The shock of it all has made me forget quite a few bits.

I can also remember vividly the day before I had Harry and the fear of what was about to happen. We had been shopping to get the final things and Harry's dad had had enough of me worrying about everything that we had a massive row and he ended up going to sleep and I ended up downstairs doing toe massive baskets of ironing to take my mind off it all. I just felt like something awful was around the corner and everyone felt like I was being a drama queen. So much so I didn't trust my own instincts.

So tomorrow marks another day in my Harry anniversary calendar. The day his life began for me. The day I knew he was existing inside of me. A mothers love starts there.... And my love for this little man will always be. He is always in my thoughts and in my heavy heart. Things in my life are certainly more positive but that heaviness of loss will always be my sadness to carry.

Thinking of you more than usual tomorrow sweetheart x x x x

The big day

Today was a very important day in my journey with my promise to Harry.

My promise to Harry was to keep his memory alive by helping others. Part of that promise was to make sure fewer babies lose their lives to vasa Praevia, by raising awareness and trying to get somewhere with a routine screening programme nationally.

If you read back in my blog to "Hospital Debrief" you can read about the first time I realised that what caused Harry's death could be screened for.

Since then I have been on a journey. Many media opportunities and many letters and phone calls with various bodies has bought me to today. A meeting with the UK's National Screening Committee. They have conducted a review on vasa Praevia and whether or not a universal screening programme should be ruled out.

Well they have decided a universal screening programme right now is not applicable as there isn't enough evidence in the identifying, and monitoring areas as it is such a rare condition. However today they have decided to bring about screening the "at risk" women.

I was so nervous ahead of the meeting, knowing there would be representatives from the Department of Health, the Royal College of Obs & Gynaes, the Royal College of Midwives etc. I felt truly honoured to be in the room today listening to professionals who want to make a difference and see the lives of little babies saved.

I didn't contribute much to the meeting as I do not hold any medical training or indeed do I know enough statistically about the condition to put up a massive argument with someone who truly knows their stuff. But to listen and be a part of a change was humbling. My son Harry has bought this passion to me, to give those babies a voice and to stop them dying needlessly.

I kept thinking about Harry and how if someone had only taken then time to diagnose him then I wouldn't be there in that meeting. I would be at home with my two boys. He would be big now. He would be having so much fun. But doing all this good has made me so happy, and fulfilled. Would I be happy if life had been so different? Who knows.

The screening committee has taken small steps today and I am very proud of our journey. But I want to thank everyone who has been on this journey with me. I have been very lucky to have massive support, on FaceBook and in "real life". This journey has bought new people into my life and made relationships closer, and shown me some new wonderful friends. Thank you everyone who has and still are part of "Harry's Army" helping me to raise awareness of this dreadful condition and make a difference to other families.

And those of you who helped me find my confidence when I needed it most over the last few days. Thank you. You're amazing xxx

Smiling through tears

It has been a long time since I have felt this happy, and I am so grateful to feel happiness again after such a long time of darkness.

I feel guilty for feeling happy, as I think of Harry and how he would never know conscious happiness. My counsellor used to tell me that Harry only knew happiness, as all his life, inside my tummy and his short time with us, he was always surrounded in love. I like that thought and I carry that with me.

I feel like I have my old self back, a bit more confidence and a bit more fun.

I feel happiness bursting out of me when I look at my two beautiful children. William is such a darling and says such loving, sweet things. And Florence truly is a blessing. Such a happy baby and so cute and gorgeous.
But when I cuddle her, and feel such amazing love for her, I can't help but burst into tears. I miss Harry. Watching Florence grow and change is so amazing, but Harry will never be more than my newborn Harry.

Sometimes I can't beleive what I have been through. My own child has died. I wish I didn't have to have these memories.

When people look at Florence they ask me is she my first? I always say she is my third and hope that the nosey old people will be satisfied with that. The other day in the doctors, I had a lady ask me how the other children like Florence. I said "they love her" and hoped that would be it. Then she asked me their names. My god. I know you're just being interested but....! I told her William and Harry. Then went back to my magazine. Then she said "How old are they?" Ugh, now I have to tell her the story. I am ok with telling the story. With the work of the Trust I have to do it all the time, so it's ok. I told her William is 3 1/2 and Harry sadly died. She asked how old he was when he died and I told her he was just over a day old. I know it must be hard to be told that a baby has died, especially when it is not spoken about in public. She looked so uncomfortable and asked what happened. It was pure disbelief when I told her, almost like I was making it up. Man, I wish I was.

Others say, oh one of each, you're very lucky. Yes. One of each here. And I have an angel watching over me too. I am very lucky. But my heart is broken. I had to kiss my son a final goodbye. No one should have to do that.

Some say, at least you have Florence. Things are better now. Like she is some kind of plaster, covering a huge wound. And I am always grateful for Florence. She really is our rainbow. But the devastation of the storm won't ever be completely cleared. Harry has left a massive scar, but I don't want him covered up. Some people don't understand why I don't just tell people I have two people to save those awkward moments, but to me, that is denying Harry. He is a part of our family and I think about him every single hour of every single day, so I won't lie to make someone else feel more comfortable.

So yes, smiling through the tears. Happy times after sad times. But sadness coming through the happiness. It's a bloody tough old ride.

A different life...

So I've started referring to my time before becoming a bereaved mummy as pre-Harry and after as post-Harry. The difference in my life is staggering. Aside from the obvious trauma, shock and true sadness my life has changed immensely.

Last week I found myself short listed in two categories at the Butterfly Awards, an awards ceremony recognising achievements in the baby loss world. It was a real honour to be there, amongst others who understand. I didn't win but after the initial disappointment I have used the inspiration of the other finalists to drive on my work for Harry's Trust.

We went to the awards with two lovely friends and it was so nice to spend time as me not someone's mother and enjoy myself without having to think feeding schedules or bedtime routines. It was lovely to have adult conversations and to hear about other peoples lives.

I am also going this week to meet with the National Screening Committee to discuss the screening programme for vasa praevia, alongside the Royal College of Obs & Gynaes, and the
Royal College  of  Midwives amongst others. I have no medical training so I am obviously nervous about the meeting but this is one of the most important days in my work since losing Harry. When I was told at our birth debrief at the hospital that the condition that cost Harry his life could be screened for but isn't - I made a promise to Harry that his life would not have been lost in vain and that no more babies should lose their lives unnecessarily.

And the rest of my time when I'm not taking care of my two kids and running a home, is spent organising our objectives for 2014 and planning our huge annual fundraiser which is at the end of next month.

My life pre Harry was less emotional and much more innocence and happiness but now I am busy trying to keep Harry's memory alive, save other babies from dying needlessly and helping others who experience the pain of losing part of them.

My life post Harry is crazy busy but he has given me such a wonderful  new direction . I feel a real sense of purpose.

In my life post Harry are some amazing people. I have been shown my true friends. Those who are there no matter what. Those who genuinely care. Those who will listen, and cry with me. Those who celebrate my triumphs with equal excitement. Those who understand exactly, and  those who don't understand but will hold your hand  and  care.

How blessed am I to have these opportunities and such wonderful people to share them with.

And that blessing is Harry. He has made my life this way. I miss him with all my being,  my heart aches for him. But he is doing so much good and I am so proud.

Since My Last Blog Two Months Have Passed In a Flash

Time is just whizzing by at the moment. 

Who can believe Little Pip will be 12 weeks at the weekend? 

She sure is our little miracle and we are so thankful she is here with us. 

Since writing last we have discovered that infact I didn't have dodgy blood as I was first led to believe. The reason they couldn't fathom why I had such a high level of fetal haemoglobin was that my beautiful daughter had bled across the placenta into my blood stream. 

Thank goodness I pushed for her delivery as I was told by her consultant that she lost approximately 200ml of blood, which given her total blood volume was 350ml at birth she'd lost nearly 2/3 of her blood.

Here are two newspaper articles about Florence's story:

http://www.exeterexpressandecho.co.uk/knew-stopped-moving/story-19880302-detail/story.html#

http://www.exmouthjournal.co.uk/news/niki_s_advice_to_help_pregnant_mums_after_miracle_birth_1_2755407 

After seeing Harry so poorly after a catastrophic bleed, I keep thinking about him. 

I look at Florence and pray that her bleed hasn't affected her long term. 

Harry and Florence are identical babies:

Harry

Florence

They are similar in so many ways....

Harry

Florence

So you can understand that when I look at Florence, not only am I so grateful that my little girl is here with me after all her and I went through, but I am constantly reminded of Harry. I am reminded of his experience and his time with us.

 When I cuddle Florence and am bursting with pride, I am also remembering my only cuddle with Harry. I am remembering how sad I was that I was saying goodbye. Trying to fit in a lifetimes worth of memories into a few tiny moments. Harry has made me truly appreicate every minute I have with Florence.
I know so well how it feels to have your loved one snatched away too soon.

Harry gave me so much in his short life.
He taught me empathy.
He taught me patience.
He taught me to appreciate the small things in life.
He showed me my real friends.
He showed me my true path.
He bought my family closer.
He gave me my daughter.

So two months have passed since my last blog, and I haven't blogged not for lack of things to write about, but from literally being so busy I have barely had time to scratch my head! But things are well and little Florence has bought a very happy ray of light through the very dark clouds. She is our wonderful rainbow.

I am going to try and  get back to writing every week or every two weeks as it helps me and I hope it can help others in some way too.

The arrival of the rainbow...

So my last blog ended with this:

 I NEED my baby here to hold and to watch. But the baby is safer in my tummy. It is a very hard balance to strike. 
Will I make it the next two weeks? Or will it come sooner? Will that be on his or here's own accord? Will it be a drama or will it be calm and relaxed? Or will it be because I cannot control my insane anxieties and I am causing my new baby to have a difficult start because I can't get a grip? Watch this space....

That afternoon I met a wonderful midwife who understood my anxieties. She listened to me when I spoke about my tears, from seeing the surgeon who delivered Harry. She helped me so much, by taking me to the operating theatre, to face my demons, and taking me on a short tour of the NNU so that I didn't feel so anxious if I had to make another visit there. It was not at all as I expected when I revisited the operating theatre. The room's proportions were not as I imagined and had a completely different feel this time. I felt calm and in control. The NNU wasn't as scary as I remembered, either, instead a friendly and special place.

That evening I was put on the monitor as I wasn't feeling baby's movements much and the kind midwife listened to my fears about the lack of movement and said a CTG trace should reassure me that everything was ok. Except, it didn't. I was seeing more and more of the decelerations that I spoke about it my last entry, and I was certain it wasn't the monitor picking up my heartbeat as it became more of a pattern. The trace started to normalise and the midwives were reassured. However as there was very little movement from the baby I was still panicked and asked them several times to take the print out to a doctor for a second opinion. Overnight things were varied, little movement and more decelerations, but periods of "normal" behaviour as well. It was when the morning came that it became clear that the doctors were not reassured by the traces and things did not seem normal. All this time, while I was pushing for a second opinion, I always felt like my anxieties were all based on paranoia, and suddenly they were justified and backed up by a doctor! I had only been awake for about half an hour when I was being told that I was going to be taken across to the labour ward. I wasn't allowed out of bed to freshen up, and suddenly midwives were collecting my belongings and taking me to the labour ward. I rang Harry's Dad and told him he needed to get here as things were happening. He had just finished a night shift and had barely had an hours sleep but came as quickly as he could. By the time he arrived, I had been gowned up and was signing the consent forms for surgery. I could hardly believe that I was going to be having my baby today, I was waiting for someone to change their mind. The day before, my consultant had seen how anxious I was that something wasn't right, and had promised to come in, on his day off, to check on me. It was when I was sat in theatre, on the edge of the operating table, having my spinal block cited, that in came my consultant. He looked confused and said "Niki, what is going on?" I felt like crying and hugging him all at once. He spoke to the consultant who was to perform the section and read up on my notes. They were going ahead with the delivery due to suspected ruptured membranes at 30 weeks, reduced fetal movements and a non-reassuring CTG trace. My consultant dismissed the other doctor and said he would perform the procedure, bless him! The neonatal doctors had been briefed as we would be having a premature baby, and suddenly I was lying on the table with Harry's dad by my side and things were underway. I still couldn't believe it was happening. It felt so so surreal.

The next thing I know, my consultant has his hands in my belly and says "who is this little person here then?" and pulls out a baby. A live baby! My goodness... He lifted the baby up and I saw a dear little scrunched up face, and he turns the baby to show Harry's Dad the sex.... A GIRL! A girl... oh my god, a girl, is all I could think. I turned to look at Harry's Dad, and he is as white as a sheet, and looks like he might pass out. A girl. My dreams had come true! She started to scream, and I burst into tears. That sound, that I had longed to hear for far too long. She was here, she was well. I couldn't believe it. We had a quick cuddle before the doctors took her away to the NNU to begin a course of IV antibiotics and undertake a few observations given her early arrival. She has also had her cord around her neck, twice, and had done a poo inside as well so it was really lucky that she was delivered when she was.

After we had been taken to our room, made some phone calls and texts and freshened up, we went and spent time with our baby, back in the NICU, a few bays away from where Harry had been. We enjoyed cuddles and kisses and special time with our new baby. It was heaven. A few family members came in to meet her and it was just as wonderful as we had hoped it to be.

We named her Florence, after my great-nanny Flo. A very special lady, so a special name for a special baby :)

Florence had low blood sugar, so they had fitted her with a tube through her nose to feed her, but had no problems breathing or controlling her temperature. She was doing so well.

That night I was asleep in bed, and woken by a doctor. "Our routine blood tests have shown that Florence is very seriously anaemic. On top of that, her jaundice levels have risen at an alarming rate. We have commenced triple phototherapy and wanted to let you know that it is looking increasingly likely that we will have to undertake an "exchange blood transfusion", where we basically give her all new blood. We wanted to let you know as this was very unexpected and we have no real cause to explain why this has happened. We are concerned about her and need to run tests on you and her Dad as we are currently unable to identify her blood group. Bearing in mind what happened to Harry we are starting to think that the two cases are possibly linked".

WHAT? I was in shock. What is happening? My beautiful girl? She is unwell? She wasn't! What is going on?

I called Harry's Dad and asked him to come and be with me as I was starting to panic. I can't do this a second time....

I went across to the NNU and saw my beautiful girl in an incubator with jaundice lamps and dear little sunglasses on to protect her amazing eyes. I felt so helpless. I was so scared. Her and Harry are linked?

The phototherapy went on for a few days, and the whole time I listened to doctors talk about all different blood conditions, and how Harry had been unable to clot his blood and was also born very anaemic, but not as anaemic as Florence. What did all of this mean? My head was in a spin. I wanted answers but no one seemed to be able to give me any. All I could think was that we were going to lose our beautiful girl. So many questions from friends and relatives about what was happening. How could I explain such a terrible piece of news when I was so afraid of the outcome and didn't fully understand what was happening. I thought we had been through enough as a family, and wondered why on earth we were being tested again!

Miraculously, Florence's haemoglobin (anaemia) levels picked up slightly, but were still about half what it should be, but her jaundice levels stabilised, and they were able to take her off the lights.

She was still subject to many tests, but she had begun breastfeeding well and soon the doctors were letting us home.

It is still unclear on what 100% caused all this, but the general idea is that we suffered a fetal maternal hemorrhage which basically means we had a cross placenta bleed. The tests showed my blood containing high fetal blood cells which could only really be explained by a bleed. The doctors talked about my blood attacking the pregnancy and was starting to reject it. Another reason to be pleased she was delivered when she was! What I struggled to get my head around was that they were saying that my pregnancy with William would have kick started this reaction, and when I was pregnant with Harry this would have been a secondary factor in why he was delivered so poorly (the primary factor being the vasa praevia). I couldn't get my head around why my body would reject a baby... why would it do that? The guilt begins... I need to speak to my counsellor about this guilt as it is something I am really struggling with. While it is not a conscious decision of mine, it is still my body that is causing harm to my children. My own body killed my baby. How do I live with that?

Here is some information about the condition they have spoke about for those who are interested:
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK2266/

It is not 100% diagnosed, as we don't fully meet all the criteria. We have the same blood groups, not different, and so did Harry. We are seeing a series of geneticists and haematologists  to get to the bottom of it all.

On a much happier note, it is amazing to have our baby girl home with us. After two weeks of an absolute rollercoaster of emotions in the NNU, it has been an amazing week of having her home. She has completed our family and makes me feel so happy and proud. We feel so lucky to have her with us, when we were so close to losing another child.

I know that Harry has certainly been watching over us these past few weeks, and am so thankful to him for truly being my guardian angel, when I needed him the most.

I am feeling blessed. Thank you Harry xxx

Closer and closer....

Today is two weeks until my scheduled section. I have reached 35 weeks. Yet here I am, admitted to hospital and being monitored for early labour. This wasn't part of my "plan". My plan had been to wind down all my Trust admin work this week, and to spend time relaxing at home, getting the finishing touches right in the nursery and organising my bags for my postnatal stay at my mums house.

No. 

I am here because of suspected ruptured membranes three weeks ago, and a gigantic leak yesterday followed by lots of cramps in my back and menstrual like pains in my legs and under my bump. Followed by semi regular contractions around every 15-20 minutes. Am I in labour? Well last night a consultant gave me my first shot of steroids to mature the babies lungs incase of an early delivery, and the pains seem to be progressing. I DO NOT WANT TO DELIVER THIS BABY NATURALLY. I have had two very traumatic labours, I just don't feel I can cope with a third. Hence the elective section. William was born at 37w and Harry at 36w so it isn't surprising that things are starting to move on at this stage. What I am concerned about it that my levels of anxiety are going to make this baby come a bit sooner than he or she should and he or she might need extra care that he or she wouldn't do ordinarily if they could be left to "cook" a bit longer. 

While being here this morning I had a huge flashback of Harry's delivery when the surgeon who delivered Harry came in to see another patient. There I was back in the theatre reliving that moment where all was so uncertain and seeing his face and remembering searching his grief stricken face for answers was just too much. I burst into tears.

Again while being monitored on the CTG machine baby's heart rate dropped from 140 down to 70 and again I freaked out that I was replicating Harry's birth when his heart rate took some dramatic dips. "No! I can't do this again!" I said welling up, but it was only the baby shifting around and the monitor picking up my heartbeat instead. 

Being here is hard. I am suffering multiple palpitations, my heart beat is a racing 112 and I keep getting hot flashes

 I NEED my baby here to hold and to watch. But the baby is safer in my tummy. It is a very hard balance to strike. 

Will I make it the next two weeks? Or will it come sooner? Will that be on his or here's own accord? Will it be a drama or will it be calm and relaxed? Or will it be because I cannot control my insane anxieties and I am causing my new baby to have a difficult start because I can't get a grip? Watch this space.....

Harry's Birthday Weekend

As part of my blogging journey, as well as writing about the emotions and feelings of being a bereaved mother I wanted to keep a little log of the things that we do to remember Harry and obviously his birthday weekend was a huge milestone in our grief journey and we had a lovely weekend full of rememberance.

We started Harry's birthday weekend by lighting a candle that we would burn for the 26 hours representing his little lifetime, with a beginning and an end:

At 22.37 (8th June)

At 1am (10th June)

At the exact time of his birth 22.37, we also set off a chinese lantern to Harry from our backyard:

Both these things I found incredibly moving and significant.

Something I struggled with was no birthday party. I kept remembering William's first birthday party and how lovely it was to watch him playing with his friends and blowing out his first ever birthday cake candle, surrounded by those who love him. Harry would never have this.

So my mum had a lovely idea about doing a little birthday tea as she does for everyone in our family, and said she would make a cake and bring some flasks of tea and some blankets to sit on, and we would go and visit Harry's grave and have tea and cake:

Then, on Sunday morning at 1am, the time when Harry became a beautiful angel,  we set off some lanterns on Budleigh beach to send our birthday messages to Harry and how much we love and miss him.

It was very moving to watch these lanterns float off in the wind and represent Harry's little soul going off to be in heaven with the other angels.

A lovely and very memorable weekend.