Mama, You Got This.

Spoiler alert: Being a Mum is hard work. Being a Mum after loss is even harder. But you know what, I got this.

The first night we took Hunter home I think I genuinely believed it would be a breeze. It wasn't. It was horrible and I felt horrible for thinking it was horrible. They literally send you home and you know pretty much fuck all. You're responsible for keeping this tiny being alive and they're 300% totally reliant on you. No pressure though.

It got to 3am on our first night and I was already done. This little bean wouldn't settle in his crib and when he did for a second, I was convinced he was dead. (The thing is, once you've seen a dead baby...it's all you see for a long time. And when your child looks near identical to the one you've lost, it drives you insane.) So there I was. Exhausted from giving birth with a small, restless and hungry baby in my arms and I just didn't know what I was supposed to do. I ended up throwing a bottle at Mattie's head because I was angry he was sleeping whilst I had a mental breakdown. (HOW DO MEN SLEEP THROUGH EVERYTHING?!) But I somehow made it through that night and the next and the next and we're both still alive (one of us hasn't washed her hair in 3 days and smells of baby milk and sick but ya know, my eyebrows look alright)
.

What I want you to know is that no matter how hard it seems, you got this.
No matter how many times you find yourself back at the hospital because they think there might be yet another issue with your baby, you got this.
No matter how many times you find yourself crying because your baby won't stop crying, you got this.
No matter how many times you feel guilty for being a "bad mum" (YES I use a dummy and give him formula), you got this.
No matter how close you come to murdering your partner because he's an idiot and can't use a washing machine or cook a meal, you got this.

As long as your baby is loved, fed and clean you're doing just fine. Sometimes that's all you need to hear, that you ARE a good mum. Trust me when I say, all the screaming for no reason, explosive poo nappies, late nights and worrying is SO worth it. And when they're all scrunched up on your chest, smelling of that wonderful baby smell it suddenly hits you how lucky you are and how amazing you are because you made that baby.

Mama, you got this.

35 Week Update - Hello June

The 1st of June. We're nearly there. Where there is, I'm not entirely sure. It could be having another dead baby. Brutal but the only outcome I know. But, it could be having a living, breathing, healthy baby. Only time will tell, nothing can alter the result. All the wishing, praying and hoping change nothing and I wish I didn't know that, but I do. I've spent all year wishing, praying and hoping for Freddie back and it's done sweet f**k all. I hate that I've become this person but that's the reality of losing a child, there's only so much positive thinking I can muster up. The only reason I'm still here clinging on is that slight chance I might be able to mother a living child.

I could sit here any type about my usual "updates" on my physical and mental health but honestly, I'm not feeling up to it. Call me an ungrateful b*tch but I am tired. Not of this baby, not of this pregnancy but all the crap that comes with it. It is so hard to smile and feel upbeat when my back is in agony, my wisdom teeth are ripping through my gums and I'm having minimal sleep due to nightmares and being up every other hour to wee. Don't get me wrong, I love carrying my son in my body, I love feeling his kicks and punches and wriggles but it is hard. Having a baby after losing one is hard, it is so so very hard. 

Regardless, I'm going to drag myself through these last few days. I'm going to pack my hospital bags, I'm going to make up the crib, I'm going to make a birth plan and I'm going to focus on bringing baby H home. That's all I can do. I can't let myself be consumed by this negativity and anxiety because I know Freddie wouldn't want that. I know baby H wants me to believe in him so I will. 

32 Week Update (Oops!)

How am I here at 32 weeks?! Also, how on earth has is taken me this long to update my blog?! Probably because I've been pretty darn busy! Life has been full of midwife appointments, scans, consultant appointments, work and spending time as a couple (plus dog). I'm not complaining though, I've needed the routine and focus to keep me going from one day to the next. As it gets closer to "D-Day" I'm feeling more and more panicked and I feel like I need constant distractions to keep my mind from drifting to the negatives.

I would say "mentally" I'm doing OK. There's a lot of ups and downs recently. I'm missing Freddie a lot recently, more so than usual. I think it's partially because it's nearly been a year since we lost him and partially because I'm scared how having another baby will impact on my relationship with him. I'm also feeling anger more than usual too...angry I wasn't given more attentive care last time (another pregnant woman with the same dipped uterus and breech baby was given consultant care and a c-section at 37 weeks...her baby lived). I'm also angry I can't just sit back and relax in this pregnancy. I don't want to spend every second with my hand on my bump, trying to work out if that was a kick or if I'm imaging it and baby hasn't moved all day. Pregnancy after loss is hard, that is one big fact.

Physically on the other hand, I'm doing pretty good (thank god). Today is my last day at work and I think that was the best possible decision. I have to walk 15 minutes, catch a bus for 20 minutes and then walk for another 10 minutes before I even start work. It can be exhausting, especially when it's a hot day and a man with hygiene issues sits next to you on the bus! I was coping but coming home with swollen feet after a shift to then have to cook/clean/wash/walk the dog really takes it out of me...which then impacts my emotions...which then impacts my relationships with people. I'm looking forward to finally being able to relax and do things in my own time. Fidgety legs are becoming a pretty regular feature in my life, closely followed by night-time leg cramps. The indigestion has started to calm down now since I cut out red meat and white bread but it occasionally comes back to haunt me. Also, on a side note, I've managed to grow myself a fringe. My hair just doesn't stop growing and it's literally sprouting out the front of my head like I've hacked at my hair to try and make an awful full fringe. Although, I'll be thankful for that extra hair when it's falling out after birth!

Scans and appointments have been going well too. Baby is measuring well, albeit with a slightly large head. They've tried to assure me is fine and just down to the fact Mattie and I have large heads and also because the positioning of his head makes it tricky to measure. Which leads me on to the fact that he is head down *yay* for now. A massive reassurance to me as we lost Freddie due to his breech positioning. We've briefly discussed a birth plan and it's looking likely that I'll be induced at 39 weeks, but I'm betting on him coming at around 37/38 weeks.

Hopefully I'll be doing another update before Baby H is here and hopefully it'll be going just as smoothly as it is now.

32 weeks down, 6 weeks *until I'm induced* to go

Pregnancy Announcement/ 20 Week Update

We finally did it. We told the world we are having baby; Freddie will be a big brother and we will be parents to two boys (and one small dog) that we love very much. We had already told family members and close friends but we finally felt that after waiting 18 l-o-o-o-o-n-g weeks, we were good to go. We had the 20 week scan and have been told that as far as they can see, so far, he's a healthy little man. And he is definitely a little man, his legs were wide apart and he clearly had no inhibitions when it came to showing off his bits!

I'd had this announcement ready the day we got back from our dating scan. Perhaps is was slightly premature of me but I wanted to tell the world, I didn't want it to be a dirty secret. But, Mattie and I discussed it and decided we wanted to get the all clear from the 20 week scan before we told people. It was the right decision of course, I wouldn't have been able to cope with having to explain that, yet again, something wasn't going our way.

Obviously I'm not naive, I am more than aware that something could show up at our 28 week scan or even our 32 week scan. I'm well aware he may not make it to the 24 week viability milestone. Basically, I'm aware of all the things that could go wrong. But, if I focused all my thoughts and time on negativity, I'd have a very miserable few months. I'm actually enjoying this stage of pregnancy. I'm as positive as is possible given everything that has happened and right now, things are going OK. I'm taking it as it comes and that's all I can do. It's something that is totally out of my hands. However, I know this little man has the best possible brother watching over him and trying his best to keep us both safe, I'm trusting in him.

Physically, my body is quickly changing. My bump is ever growing as are my boobs. I shouldn't complain but as a previous member of the itty bitty titty committee jumping from a B to a D is a slightly painful experience! Last week I had a lot of "ligament pain" in my lower abdomen but nothing major and it's stopped this week so I think he was just on a growing spree. I'm feeling lots of kicks when I sit down in the evening or when I wake in the morning. He also enjoys it when I eat (typical boy) or when I drink a hot chocolate...only hot chocolate though! I cant wait to have more regular movements but I'm thankful to feel what I do as I have an anterior placenta. Cravings are non existent but I am enjoying food a lot more than I did in the early weeks and my love of healthy food is sadly fading fast! I'm trying to drink water and add lots of veggies to my meals to compensate for the chocolate ice cream. I'll probably regret all the munching when I have a flabby post partum tum but right now, I just don't care!

20 weeks down, 20 more to go. DHJ we cannot wait to meet you. 

The Dating Scan

Aaaand breathe. I made it, I survived a scan and I came out with the news we had only dreamed of 6 months ago. We are definitely having a baby, a baby that is so far healthy and has a strong, beating heart. Which at this point, is all we can ask for I suppose.

The pre-scan part was hard, I can't lie. We spent the day staying distracted...watching Lord Of The Flies, window shopping and having a meal before the oh-so-familiar drive to the hospital. I don't really remember the happy scans with Freddie there. I remember driving up there when we were seeing him for the last time before he was moved to the funeral home, closer to us. I tried not to think of that when we drove there this time but it still crept up on me like it always does.

In the waiting room I felt close to a panic attack. I felt angry too. I recognised one woman, she was a year or two above me at school...I could just about remember her name. She was irritating me, nattering away excitedly to her mum whilst her boyfriend sat bored on his phone. I wasn't angry at her as a person, just the fact that she could be so happy and carefree. I wanted that back. Instead I sat with a sick feeling, my heart racing and I whispered to Mattie that I wanted to leave. Luckily he didn't let me and reassured me, as always that it would be "fine".

Then before I knew it, there I was on the bed with that cold jelly on my stomach. All of a sudden a baby was on the screen. "Look, there's the little heartbeat" the sonographer announced before I even had a chance to worry. I noticed the baby looked far more developed than Freddie did at 12 weeks, in fact I thought it looked more like him at 20 weeks! I had to roll onto my side so we could check measurements and this baby was measuring at 15+2 weeks so a lot bigger than the 13 weeks they had written down. Mattie then asked "so is there any chance we can tell the sex then?". Luckily our sonographer was very accommodating and said she would have a cheeky look for us! I won't be saying what the result was until we've had it confirmed at the 20 week scan though...you know, just in case it changes!

After that was all done (our little peanut even waved goodbye!) we saw a midwife to go over the results. Everything was looking good so far and she booked me an appointment to see a consultant so we would be able to discuss the care plan for this baby and myself! I finally felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. We looked at the scan photos and laughed at the little snub nose (different to Freddie's button nose) and full pouty lips (the same as Freddie).

I've made it past the first trimester and I'm one step closer to meeting this little bubba. I have a long, anxious and uncertain road ahead but one thing I am sure of it that my heart is utterly full of love already.

Life Update And Thoughts Towards The Dating Scan

Life recently seems to be a mix of lows and highs. No in between, it's either an up or a down. But that's OK I guess. It makes a change from the constant downs and the dull bit in the middle if I'm being perfectly honest. It kind of adds an element of surprise into my life that I haven't had in a long time. When you're used to a constant routine of waking up, breakfast, walking the dog, tidying the house, waiting for Mattie to get home, cooking tea, sleeping and repeating anything that disrupts that seems kind of fun. Even if that something is an argument or going for chocolate cake with your friend you end up getting really excited by it. Maybe it's because it allows me to be distracted from the reality that my son is dead or maybe it's because it interferes with my monotonous routine I'm not sure. Either way, I'm kind of enjoying the unpredictability.

My pregnancy symptoms are starting to ease this week thankfully. By that, I mean I've stopped actually being sick but the sicky feeling is still going strong. It's usually set off by overpowering smells and things that look gross but I that'll probably last till the end of the pregnancy as was the case with Freddie. I'm also still dashing to the loo, desperate for a wee multiple times a day but I'm not too fussed because symptoms are healthy and it offers me the reassurance that I desperately need until I can feel this baba move regularly. My dating scan is next week, at which point I'll be 14 weeks...a little later than we were hoping for but it's only a minor issue and we will be bringing it up at the appointment. I can't help but feel nervous but I'm calm and trying to accept that there's nothing I can do that'll change the outcome. We're actually going to the theater in the afternoon, before the scan so I'm hoping it'll distract me from worrying.

I've also bought my first purchase for this baby, a blanket. It's similar to the one we wrapped Freddie in when he was born and I wanted this baby to have one too. I'm not sure why, I just felt somewhat compelled to get this baby a blanket. I think it's in case this one dies too (I know that sounds awful) but I just want something to wrap this baby in, to keep it warm. And if I'm lucky enough to take this little bean home, it'll be the blanket that covers little feet in the car seat on the way home. I haven't opened the package it came in though, I can't and won't until we've been to this scan. I know things can still go wrong even after a perfect scan but I'll feel a lot safer after it.

Hopefully next time I update my blog I'll be able to share a scan photo of a healthy little bean but I'm well aware this might not be the case. I'm hoping with all my heart that everything is fine and I'm able to see a strong heart beating away so that mine can finally begin to beat again too.

Christmas Without Your Baby

Hands up if you're already sick of Christmas adverts rubbing it in your nose that you don't have your baby with you this Christmas (YES WE'RE LOOKING AT YOU BISTO, I WON'T BE BUYING GRAVY FROM YOU IN FUTURE). I'm pretty sure we're going to be forking out for a new TV soon because I am getting ever closer to throwing the remote through the screen. I think this is going to be the hardest Christmas I ever experience because it should be my first one with my son, Freddie. Instead, it's my first one without him...so bittersweet. I keep thinking about the Christmas bibs I bought for him tucked away in a box somewhere. I don't know why but they seem to be a haunting image for me which is probably silly as they're just some bibs but they symbolised so much. I got them because I knew Freddie would be starting to try food, he would be joining us at the table, making a mess out of his mashed veg, the star of the table.

When I was planning my labour (what a joke) I read that you should give yourself two or three things to focus on to get you through the pain. My first was that first walk in the park as parents, baby all snug in his pram, me with my starbucks and Mattie pushing the pram all proud. Our first proper outing as a family. My second was Christmas day. Watching Freddie's eyes widen as he tries to take in all the lights and sounds and people. Giving him lots of presents even though he would be too young to really get it and watching him make a mess at dinner time then tucking him into bed at night wondering how we got so lucky. Needless to say that all went out the window when the words "I'm so sorry" were whispered to me. The only thing that got me through labour was anger and determination. No happy memories, just a mother wanting to do one last thing for her baby.

So if you haven't already gathered, I'm somewhat of a Grinch this Christmas. We'll be spending Christmas day with my family, hopefully my sickness will have eased so I can comfort eat my way through the day. I'm looking forward to having them for support through the day but I know underneath the festivities I'll have a little black cloud surrounding me because I won't have my Freddie. However, we are doing a few bits and pieces to remember him which I thought I would share in case anyone else is looking for some inspiration on remembering their little angel's this Christmas.

Personalised Christmas Decoration: Having a special bauble to hang on the tree with your baby's name can actually be a really lovely tradition. We're going to do it every year and if we successfully have our rainbow baby, it's something I'd like them to be a part of in the future. I think it'll be a really good way of teaching them about their sibling and making sure that they're still a part of Christmas. There are LOADS to choose from but notonthehighstreet.com do some beautiful ones.

Reading Your Baby A Christmas Story: I'm going to read "The Night Before Christmas" to my picture of Freddie on Christmas Eve because it's something that my Mum used to do with us when we were little and I really wanted to do it with Freddie. Again, it's another thing that future siblings can be a part of.

Visiting A Special Place: I'm inviting family to join Mattie and I at Freddie's grave to lay flowers on Christmas day so that he isn't alone and so I can feel close to him. I won't feel right unless all my family are together. Hopefully the weather will be nice so it can be a happy memory for us all.

Do you have any Christmas traditions that you're including your baby in?

Do I Not Deserve To Have Another Baby?

It's been 4 months tomorrow since I've been trying for a second baby. Nothing. I know to many 4 months is a drop in the ocean in terms of trying to conceive but to me it's a lifetime. Freddie was conceived after one month (and I was on the pill) which makes this length of time even harder to accept.

I don't understand why my body won't allow it. I don't seem to understand much anymore actually. I don't understand why people that are unhealthy can have babies at the click of their fingers and I can't. I don't understand why people that don't even want children can have them with ease and I can't. I feel like a child recently. Constantly complaining that everything is "unfair" or asking Mattie "why am I not allowed?". I feel pathetic. I've become one of those miserable people that thinks the world is against them. I would just like to add at this point that telling someone who has lost a baby, "at least you know you can get pregnant" is quite honestly, stupid. I had one baby, and I lost him. I am not guaranteed to have another, it is not a given. And I find that so very painful. What if he was it? My one chance to have a baby? And my body failed him. I let my one chance at happiness die and leave me. I don't know that I can get pregnant whenever I want, and right now the evidence would suggest otherwise. What I do know is that I can lose a baby. And no matter how many children I have in the future (if I have anymore) I will still be waiting for them to die. I might cling onto the hope that they'll be OK and that I'll get to watch them live but there will always be that nasty, painful feeling that I'm going to lose them.

All I want right now is to be pregnant, to be given the opportunity to prove to myself that I can give birth to a live baby. To be given the chance to hear that cry when they're born.

I held a baby for the first time since Freddie was born yesterday. She was the sweetest little thing and she made my heart ache so much, for Freddie and for another baby. And she left me thinking that maybe I just don't deserve a baby. Maybe I would be a bad mother. I don't think I would be; I've always loved children and I love them so much. I always played with dolls as a child and people often commented how natural my maternal instincts were. I always believed I was born to be a mother. I never really wanted to go to University like my friends. I was tempted but all I really wanted to do was "settle down". I wanted to find someone who wanted a family and a house and a dog even from the age of 18. When I fell pregnant with Freddie my mum asked "did you want to get pregnant?" I said no but of course I did. Even though I was on the pill and I wasn't actively trying, I would have loved a baby.

I've done bad things in my life, I've made mistakes but I just can't think of something I've done that's so terrible, terrible enough to mean that I don't deserve a child, to be pregnant. People murder, abuse and mistreat other human beings and they can still have children? Why?

I'm in a strange place right now. I'm settled with Olive, with our new house, with how my relationship is now, with friends... I'm doing well. I'm getting through life, one day at a time. But at the same time there's an underlying level. A feeling of angst and frustration. Mostly aimed towards myself and partially aimed towards the world.

I'm not saying having a baby will make it all go away, it won't clean my slate so that it's shining and new, but it'll give me a feeling of peace, of acceptance. It'll dull the feelings that currently eat away at me.

I wish this was a more optimistic and cheerful post but I can't pretend my life is a picnic, I can't pretend that losing a baby isn't a big deal and I can't pretend that trying for a second is easy. It's hard. it's really fucking hard and it's even harder when your body won't co-operate.

Trying To Conceive Again

Ugh. I wish I could just end the post there. I think that sums up nicely how I feel about this. Just ugh. I'm fed up of "trying" already and it's only been 3 months. A fellow bereaved mumma recently informed me that on average it takes a woman nine months of trying to get pregnant. I was honestly shocked. Freddie was a happy accident. He wasn't planned but so dearly loved and so very much wanted. I got pregnant so quickly AND whilst on the pill. So now that we are actively trying and waiting for that big fat positive, it feels like we've entered a time warp. It feels like all I do is wait to get pregnant. 

One thing I am sick of is being told to "stop trying". I don't get that, I really don't. As children we are constantly being told to "always try your hardest". Then when you're older and you try at something, you're told to stop. It's very easy for someone who has had a succession of happy pregnancies and no problem getting pregnant to say this, but it's not as easy for the person receiving the information to accept. 

It's honestly all I think about these days. I downloaded 3, yes you heard me THREE fertility apps on my iPhone. I diligently log my information with them daily and follow their advice religiously. I should go for a run whilst eating an avocado? Done. I should bathe in a pool of goats milk? OK, sure. *Please note none of these actually improve fertility...I don't think anyway*. I've recently ordered myself vitamins to help with conception and I've started gymnastics in order to get myself back to full health. I want this, so much.

I feel like I should just say that my desire for a baby is in no way me trying to replace Freddie. That's totally impossible and has never been my intention. He was my first son. I will never get that back, ever. But I do so desperately want to fill the emptiness in my arms and in my heart. I am a mother and I want to be able to mother. There's only so much love my dog will accept! It's what I'm here for, I know it and I feel it. Even when I was little, I spent hours playing with my dolls. Caring for them, dressing, washing and feeding. All of it. I have 3 younger siblings and I loved helping my mum look after the youngest two. I was shocked when I went to a pregnancy class and found out so many new mums-to-be hadn't ever changed a nappy in their lives! Motherhood is something that has always come so naturally to me and now I'm having to fight to have that opportunity. It is so very unfair.

Trying to conceive is also seriously testing my patience. I'm currently at a loss. I tested early and got a negative so waited patiently for my period to arrive. A week after it was due and it still isn't here. I tested again and got yet another negative. I feel like my body is mocking me. I just want my period to arrive so I can go again but it's just not happening. 

So that's where I am with trying to conceive again. Essentially, I am no where. I'm starting to lose hope. I know that having a bicornuate uterus can affect conecption and I'm starting to wonder if that was it. My one chance to have a baby and now it's gone. I'm trying to stay positive, I'm trying not to "try" too hard, I'm trying to not stress but it's so hard. It's almost impossible when the only thing you want in life seems out of reach.

Little Baby

I haven't written poetry since I was in Year 8 and I won a poetry competition at school. I had to get up in front of the whole school and shake some rugby player's hand. I was totally mortified and it's clearly scarred me as I haven't written anything since. I don't really know why I felt so inspired to write this tonight but whilst Mattie played Fifa 16 *yawn* it just spilled out of me. I can imagine my English teacher tutting over my shoulder; it's hardly written well but it's real. It's raw and it's from the heart which is really what poetry is all about. Feel free to take it, share it or use it...I know it applies to so many of us.

Baby Loss Awareness Month

How did I even get here? I think I find myself asking this nearly daily. All I know is that my baby died and that I'm still clinging on. My life prior to Freddie dying is an insignificant haze. It's like a cloudy dream that doesn't seem real and I struggle to remember it. Even the time that has passed since we buried Freddie up till now is a blur. How am I still here? How on Earth am I getting through this? Can I keep going? I honestly can't answer those questions. All I know is I'm taking everything day by day. I love going to sleep, it's an escape from this horrible nightmare that I've found myself in. I love going to adult gymnastics because my body is in so much physical pain it takes away the emotional pain. I love running around after our puppy, Olive because she stops me from just spending my day crying in bed. But do any of these things make me truly happy? No, of course they don't. But they help the day to pass by and for every day that passes I tell myself I'm another step closer to being healed from this pain. Not cured because it will always still be there but healed so that the scars remain but life carries on and maybe I can be happy again. So that's a very jumbled description of where I am, from June 23rd 2015 to October 1st 2015. If you're going through the same thing I'm hoping you'll be able to make sense of my ramble above because you all get it. You know all too well that life these days is merely about surviving, no longer about thriving. At least, not yet anyway.
So it's October, somehow. I can't actually believe how quickly time seems to be moving around me even though I feel as if I'm stuck still in time whilst everyone continues around me. It's the month where we are able to do two things.

1) Raise awareness of baby loss. It's real people, it happens. 1 in 4 people have lost a baby whether that be in early, middle or late pregnancy or even after the baby has been born. It's not a horror story people whisper about. It's real. Fucking. Life. There should be no stigma and no shame. No one should feel embarrassed to say that they have lost a child and yet we do. I've been left cringing over the fact I've blurted out "my baby was stillborn". But why? I'm proud that I had him and that he existed. Please never shy away from someone who has lost a baby. Ask them if they want to talk about it. Something we do and sometimes we don't but that's OK. It means so much that you asked. Ask what the baby's name was. Show them that you care and you know that baby is real. And above all never ever say the words "at least". It never leads to anything good and we don't want to hear "at least you can try again" etc.

2) Celebrate the lives of our babies. No matter how long they lived they still lived. Tell people, show them a picture, say their name. Let the world know how proud you are to have been a mother to your baby. Whether it be your first or fifth! I'm taking part in the Capture Your Grief project (read more here!) to celebrate Freddie's life and to explore my grief. I'm also hosting an intimate fundraiser for family and friends to raise money for Sands. It's just a small gathering that I have named the PJ's and Wine Party (it's pretty self explanatory what we'll be doing) but it's still raising money AND I'll be having fun whilst doing it. I think it's important that we remember that this month, it can be happy. Which is something I have to keep reminding myself, that is OK to enjoy life. If not for yourself, enjoy it for your child when you can.

I really hope that this is a gentle month for you all. I'd love to hear what you're up to through this month if you would like to share in the comments or you can always email me for a chat (just go to the Contact Me page).

Capture Your Grief - 2015

I am so excited to take part in the Capture Your Grief project this October. In some ways it is sad that I'm at a point in my life where I am grieving for my baby but I'm glad that I have the opportunity to focus the grief into something like this project. I know a lot of fellow grieving mums (and dads!) read this blog so I want to make everyone aware of this amazing event and encourage you all to take part!

What Is It?:
It's so simple, anyone can do it. You can choose to share it on social media or keep it in a private diary/scrapbook. Its a series of topics, one for everyday of the month of October and for each topic, you take a photo of what it means to you or what it represents to you. It's totally personal and subjective to you so you're totally in control. It has been created for us to explore our grief in order to help us on our journey of healing.

How Can I Take Part?:
Just have a camera! You don't need to be a photographer or have an amazing camera, it's not about getting professional photos, it's about capturing something that truly resonates with your grief and healing process. It only takes a few seconds to take a picture and upload it or to print it out and pop it in a diary.

Where Can I Get More Info?:
Right here! Or on the Facebook event here! Simple.

How Can I Follow Your Project?:
I'll be posting my pictures on Instagram (follow below) with the hashtag #CaptureYourGrief and #WhatHealsYou. I'll also be creating a photo diary/scrapbook which I will be doing a post on when the project is over!

Let me know how/where you'll be sharing your pictures in the comments!

Keeping Freddie In Our Lives

Freddie will always be in our hearts. That's a given, he will never, ever be forgotten. But for me, I need more than that.These days, it is very easy to be consumed with busy thoughts and stress (and a small devil dog named Olive) so it's crucial that I have a little area or reminder that lets me know he's still here with me.
We have little reminders of him dotted around our house. We have our star certificate that one of Mattie's friends bought for us. It is framed and sits proudly on our windowsill in the living room so that our star is often looking down on us. If you're ever unsure on what to give someone that has experienced a loss I highly recommend getting them a star in the name of their lost one. You can use the co-ordinates on the certificate to locate the star on google and as Mattie doesn't believe in God he finds it such a comfort to know Freddie is up there, twinkling as our little star.
Mattie's cousins gave us a poem that they wrote which is truly beautiful. I find it very hard to look at currently as it is quite emotional so I've left it wrapped carefully in a moving box. I want to put it in our rainbow baby's bedroom as I think that's the only time I'll be able to read it...even then I'm not sure I'll ever be able to read it comfortably. It stirs up so many raw emotions that I'm still trying to control.
Freddie's little slinky mouse is also a very important part of my life. When he was born it sat in his cot with him. I took it to the hospital with me as I wanted it to be the first toy he ever had and it still was. I was close to burying it with him but I couldn't let it go, mouse spent hours in his little hospital bed with him and I needed it. I clutched it like a child for a long time after he died. It came everywhere with me, like a comfort blanket. It smelt like him and I couldn't let it go, I still think it does smell of him but it's probably just my mind telling me that. I don't bring it with me every time we leave the house anymore but if ever we go away overnight it has to be with me. Mouse stays in our bed and if I ever struggle to sleep, cuddling mouse is a massive help. I've even woken in the night to find Mattie holding it. I defend that toy with my life, Olive has tried to run off with it a few times and normally I'm pretty relaxed with what she chews, Mouse is a big no-no. It represents our pain and it represents Freddie.
Those of you that know Mattie and I will know he is a BIG Arsenal fan, much to my dismay (I'm not a football or even sport fan). He has the Arsenal club logo tattooed *brings up sick in my throat* on his arm so that basically puts his love for them in a nutshell. Anyway, I digress... a week or maybe two before Freddie was born we went on a hunt to find a mini Arsenal football for Freddie. Mattie's theory was that if we introduced football from the second was born, we'd have a professional footballer for a son. Don't worry if your eyes just rolled in despair, mine did too (and still do daily). We kept the ball for baby number two, fingers crossed, so they can play with it and think of Freddie. It's pretty special to us as not only does it remind us of the dreams we lost when Freddie died but it gives us hope for another baby, it's a statement that we WILL try again.
My favourite way that I remember Freddie by is my little corner I have made for him in our room. I have a little white frame with my favourite picture of him from the day he was born. On my mirror is a little string of wooden hearts that were in his nursery, it killed me that we had to pack his nursery away so I've kept them out of the boxes of nursery items. There's a little poster with his birth information on it (his weight, where he was born, what time etc) that I purchased here. I've also added a little jar with a posy of flowers, I feel like it adds a more cheery touch to remind me to be happy and positive which isn't always possible but it gives me a good head-start to a happier day. It is so important that he is the last thing I see when I go to bed and the first thing I see when I wake up and with this little display it makes sure this is always guaranteed.

Why I Write My Blog

Initially I started this blog to update about my pregnancy, birth and to track Freddie's milestones as he passed through his childhood. Instead, it's transformed into a blog that documents my struggle through life without a baby, my baby, Freddie. I've lost the direction I'm taking this blog in, I'm not sure what it's going to be in a year from now. Maybe I'll be writing about a how I'm pregnant with a brother or sister for Freddie, maybe I'll have my rainbow baby already with me...I honestly don't know.

Right now, I'm writing this to stay sane. It gives me a purpose. When I lost Freddie I felt like I'd lost all meaning to my life, I drifted without direction. This blog gives me the focus that I'd been craving and that I so desperately needed. This blog gives me something to do...There's only so much dog walking and housework I can do! I'm definitely not ready to go back to work yet, sometimes I'm tempted to go back but then something hits me in the heart and I know it's just not going to happen yet. Some of my fellow angel mum's have gone back to work and I seriously salute them, but for me I'm just not ready yet.

I also like to share my experiences, situations and stories with other people that have experienced the loss of a baby. When I was in the earliest weeks of loss I had no idea if what I was feeling was normal, if how I was acting and reacting was OK. It took my a long time to accept that I was doing the best that I could be. It took a lot of trawling a lot of other blogs, the Sands forum and websites before I felt "normal". I want to be a part of that. If I help another Mum or Dad on their grief journey or if I reassure them they aren't crazy, if I bring people comfort then I'm happy. I've done something good, I've created a tiny legacy for Freddie that I am incredibly proud of. This might only be a little blog but behind it is so much love.

What I Lost.

You don't just lose a baby.

You lose the future you had planned for him. You lose the future you had planned for the both of you.

I've lost hearing that first wail when they're born that let's you know "I'm OK".
I've lost his first proper smile.
I've lost hearing his first baby sounds and words.
I've lost that moment when he takes his wobbly first steps towards my open arms.
I've lost the opportunity to cry as I wave goodbye to him on his first day of school.
I've lost out on tucking him into bed with a night time story and kissing him goodnight.
I've lost out on taking him on trips out to farms and zoos.
I've lost the chance to have Christmas day with him, seeing his face when Santa has been.
I've lost the chance to wipe away his tears when he falls over and comes to me for a magic plaster.
I've lost out on helping him with homework projects, worrying that it won't be done on time or that it won't be the best in the class.
I've lost holiday memories with us all together.
I've lost out on his birthdays, watching children run around my house and the joy on his face when he comes downstairs to all his presents.
I've lost out on telling him it'll be OK when he falls out with his best friend at school.
I've lost the chance to watch him play football or rugby, I've even lost the chance to see what sport he chooses.
I've lost out on him bringing home his first girlfriend.
I've lost the chance to see if he gets into university or college.
I've lost out on helping him move out.
I've lost his wedding day with me weeping into Mattie's shoulder.
I've lost the day he tells me that he's going to be a dad and I'm going to be a grandmother.

So never tell me that I "just lost a baby". I lost his whole life, not just the nine months he spent with me.

Guilt.

Since as long as I can remember, I've always felt guilt very strongly. I'm one of those people that do something and then think about it after. This is a very silly way to live as I often end up making mistakes and spend a long time after feeling guilty. Maybe it's the Catholic in me or maybe I just have an overactive conscience...either way, when I feel guilt I feel it hard. My first reaction when the midwife put her hand on my leg gently and told me that she was "so sorry" but there was "no heartbeat" was guilt. I remember very vividly wailing that I was "so so sorry" to Mattie. I felt guilt and I still do, very strongly.

It's not even just one solid type of guilt. I feel it in so many different ways and most days it consumes and overwhelms me entirely. Speaking to other mums that have lost their babies due to stillbirth in particular, it seems to be a very common feeling. I think a lot of "outsiders" to our grief really struggle to understand what we are feeling and why. So I'm going to try and explain it, as best I can. Obviously this is my personal experience and my feelings so they aren't necessarily transferable to everyone!

Failure - As awful as it sounds, I felt a failure the day I discovered I was pregnant with Freddie. If you know me personally, you'll know that Mattie and I had only been together for 3 months when I fell pregnant. It was a massive shock as I was using birth control and obviously we were in the very early stages of our relationship. I thought he would leave me, I mean you're lucky if you find someone that wants a relationship, let alone a relationship and a baby! As it turned out, when I told him he replied "oh thank god, I thought you'd cheated on me". And that, was that, I also felt like I was a failure to my parents. I didn't work at my A Levels, I didn't go to Uni (I did get in, I just preferred to work), I didn't do driving lessons... I wasn't the golden daughter I could have been in short and now I was pregnant to add to my list of failures. My parents were far from impressed initially. My conservative father refused to speak to me for a week and my mum was convinced Mattie and I would never last. However, towards the end of my pregnancy my dad had made us a crib and my mum was buying bits for Freddie left, right and centre. When I was told Freddie had died I felt a failure all over again. I'd taken their grandchild from them and I'd taken Mattie's son from him.

Blame - I blame myself, entirely. So many people have told me "It's not your fault, you can't blame yourself". But I do, I think I always will. To me, a mother should always protect and care for their child and I can't shake the feeling that I let him die. It was my body that should have protected him and it was my body he died in. I did everything I was supposed to, took my vitamins, stayed healthy, ate well (mostly), cut out alcohol, avoided no-no foods, attended all my appointments diligently...I did everything right. But, somewhere along the line I must have slipped up. Maybe I didn't notice something, maybe I should have asked more questions, pushed for better care? I don't know. The whole nine months drift through my mind as I desperately try to think of something, anything that I could have done. And I can't think of anything, which makes me feel worse. I must  have missed something fundamental and as a result my beautiful little boy died.

Anger and jealousy - I feel so, so guilty about the feelings of anger and jealousy that sometimes hit me. I look at pregnant mothers with a cigarette or drink in their hand and I have to restrain myself from slapping them across their face and shouting "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I spent my whole pregnancy protecting and shielding my unborn child from every possible danger and yet there are mothers who seem to not care about their baby, all they care about is themselves. I mean really, how hard is it to sacrifice getting drunk for nine months? I also see mothers whine and complain at every opportunity about their baby. I would do anything to have a wild toddler running circles around me, to change a dirty nappy, to spend all night without sleep nursing my child. I understand that looking after a baby is difficult and stressful, I really do. But when I see people that only complain, it kills me. Don't you know how lucky you are? Treasure every second. Because that's a second I never got and never will get with Freddie.

I had no idea that I would lose my baby and I had no idea how much it would hurt. Guilt is only one tiny part of losing your child, I feel so many other emotions daily. It's torture. But it is easing very slowly, especially the anger and jealousy.

What types of guilt have you experienced?

The New Normal Project

The new normal is a phrase widely used by those who have lost a baby. It's a completely different way of life, like nothing you'll have ever experienced before. You can break up with a partner and it hurts but, eventually, things just go back to normal. You lose a baby and the entire trajectory of your life is altered in one, swift and devastating blow. Everything you were certain about, everyone you were certain about are smashed into tiny pieces. The house you planned to raise your child in? Tainted. That friend you've known for years? Gone. That TV show (One Born Every Minute) you used to love? Ha. Forget it. Your whole world is turned upside down and you're left in an emotional, painful state and before long you realise, this is how it is now. This is my life, this is my "new normal". 

It's so very unfair. We have to rebuild our crushed world that we lovingly created and we have to rebuild it with key pieces missing. It's an impossible task and so we have to make a new world. It's not as good and we miss our old world but it does the job (just) nonetheless.

The New Normal Project is nothing fancy, nothing groundbreaking and it's not going to make the pain you're feeling go away. It's just a simple concept. It's a platform to tell your story and how your life has been altered. For example: I've moved house because our old one held to many painful memories, I've got a puppy instead of a baby now, I'm debating changing career as I don't know if I'll be able to return to childrenswear...

If you want to tell your story and how your life has been changed just go to the Contact Me page and send me an email containing:

- Your name

- Your baby's/babies' name(s)

- Your blog name/website address

- Your story (it can be as detailed or as brief as you like)

- What's changed in your life.

I'm really want gain a collection of stories to show parents that they aren't alone. If I could describe how I felt after the first initial few weeks it would be isolated and confused. I was constantly questioning if what I was feeling was normal and left wondering if anyone else had been through this and survived. I also want to use this as a legacy for our babies, so that their names are out there in black and white because they exist and their stories deserve to be told.

About Last Night

About last night. I feel like I've been in a car crash and I'm still trying to recover from it. I don't even know why it was so bad. I've been in a similar situation before and breezed through it but last night I just couldn't do it.

I couldn't listen to people's bullshit small talk. I don't care that your children are getting married (two days after the anniversary of Freddie's death. Not that anyone mentioned it. God forbid we actually speak about him), I don't care that your children are "doing it properly" (shame on me for having sex before marriage), I don't care that you're moving to Chelsea to live the fantastic life I'll never have. I don't fucking care.

Then the cherry on the cake came. Don't get me wrong, I still love children. I love being around them. It's one of the few things in life that still makes me happy. It's the conversation that follows that I hate. Every comment stabs me like a knife. It's like I'm starving to the point where I'm almost gone and people are tormenting me with food...waving it in my face to remind me what I don't have.

"Look at his hair, I can't believe he's so blonde!" No one is ever going to talk about Freddie's hair, no one would ever think to ask what it was like. For the record I remember it distinctly. We were shocked when he came out as when mixed with blood (yeah, yeah it's gross. I know) he looked ginger. Chloe, the midwife even commented "looks a bit strawberry blonde to me!". After he was cleaned up though it was apparent it was a very light, mousy brown. Still a shock as I was very dark and very hairy when I was born. So much so that my mum asked the doctor if there was something wrong with me. She was swiftly informed "no, she's just very hairy". I also remember visiting him in the chapel of rest. He had a thicker patch of hair to the back of his head in tiny, intricate curls. They were perfect. He is perfect. Anyway, I'm just angry that Freddie's hair will never be discussed. I could talk for hours about every inch of him but no one cares about the dead baby. An alive one is always better for a topic of conversation.

"Last time we saw him, he was just a baby!" Freddie should have been there. He should have been the baby this time. He should have been there, stealing all the attention but he's not. Just the awkwardness of his absence. A great big empty whole. Ironically there was an empty chair as someone got the numbers wrong but that cut me even deeper. To me it represented Freddie.

I just sat and watched Mattie's dad play and engage with his nephew and I couldn't take it anymore. Everywhere I looked I felt anger. How am I supposed to be happy and join in with meaningless and boring conversation? How am I supposed to just not talk about Freddie because I might make other people feel awkward?

I'm tired of pretending I'm OK. Pretending my son didn't exist. Pretending I didn't spend 15 hours in hospital in agony. Pretending I'm coping. Just pretending.

How does anyone live through this? It's honestly beyond me.

Not Everything Happens For A Reason

You know what I'm sick of? Bullshit quotes and instagram posts that summarise in a number of different ways that "everything happens for a reason". Hands up, I used to be one of those people that saw a happy quote on a pretty background in some floaty writing with a positive little message and think "I'll post that and people will think I'm inspirational and such a positive thinker". But looking back I just want to slap my past, naive, self.

I'm not saying that we should all walk round being pessimists, hating life but it's time to realise posting a quirky and upbeat quote won't make you feel better in the long term. If something bad has happened to you, it hasn't happened for a reason. It. Just. Happened.

What possible reason is there for someone to lose a child?

Exactly. There isn't one.

If I woke up tomorrow and a stranger came up to me and offered me a million pounds but only if I didn't have a baby I wouldn't lie back in my bed later that evening, turn to Mattie and say "ah so that was the reason. It all makes sense now". The pain would still be there, I wouldn't be healed because I found a reason for my loss.

I get it, I get why people say it to me. We like to pretend that things don't hurt and when they do we like to know that there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I'm guilty of feeling that too, wanting to believe it's all part of a plan where I'll walk off merrily into the sunset like a film. But that's just not life.

IF I ever get my happy ending, it's because I made it happen...not the universe.

Baking Therapy

Since I was little, I have always loved baking. My mum was constantly producing freshly baked goodies and delicious home cooked meals. I also have find memories of making trifles and making rock cakes (still a firm favourite of mine) with my Gran. So it was pretty inevitable that baking would be a passion of mine. Whenever I'm anxious or upset or angry, I bake. There's nothing quite like taking your aggression out on a cake mix with a spoon!

Since Freddie died I've found it hard to get back into it. Maybe because I pictured him standing on a chair, helping me break eggs or stir the mixture like I did as a child. I even struggled to find the energy to make a meal, I just couldn't face it for a long time.

But this week I decided to put on an apron and get my bake on. The Great British Bake Off being back on TV definitely gave me the push back into the kitchen I so desperately needed! I decided to keep it simple and make some vanilla cupcakes with a vanilla buttercream filling. I really enjoyed making them and found it so therapeutic to focus on. It kept my mind distracted and it kept me busy (I tend to just sit around watching Netflix all day recently!). Even after I'd made them, I felt inspired to clean the house and I cracked on with a lot of overdue housework! Not that Mattie noticed and he rudely stomped his work boots all over my freshly cleaned floor *insert angry emoji here*. 

I would seriously recommend baking to anyone who is feeling down, stressed or even just pissed off with work! You don't have to be Mary Berry to make a few cupcakes and there's always someone willing to eat the produce...

Let me know any more ways you use to keep your mind busy or something that you find therapeutic!