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)
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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.

Introducing Hunter Edward Ray Jenkins & His Birth Story

We actually made it. We have him here and he is safe and he is healthy and he is all ours. Our beautiful rainbow baby. Hunter Edward Ray Jenkins, born at 7.07 pm on the 14th of June 2016, weighing 6lbs11oz at 37 weeks. I'm going to crack on straight away with his birth story...mainly because otherwise I'll be jabbering on about how amazing he is for years but also because he is currently napping and a newborn nap is more unpredictable than anything I've ever encountered before!

We received a phonecall at half past 8 on the 14th, inviting me in for my induction. After we showered and got all our bits together we finally left and made our way to the hospital, arriving at about 10.30. He kicked and wriggled the whole way, reassuring me he was fine. On arriving we were shown to a bed and met our first midwife. She was lovely (they all were) and she explained the induction process before listening to baby's heartbeat. That was the point that we discovered Freddie had gone so the midwife took her time and checked I was ready before setting it up. But there it was, loud and strong. After monitoring the heart rate for a while the midwife did an internal examination to see whether they were able to break my waters or whether a pessary should be inserted. It turned out that I was 1cm dilated but they weren't able to break my waters. I was secretly glad as everyone told me that it was really painful to have your waters broken and so in the pessary (or small teabag as the midwife called it) was popped in.

Within about half an hour, I could already begin to feel small and irregular contractions whilst I munched on my jacket potato (NHS food really ain't that bad you know!). They were still pretty tame at this point though and I was moved to another ward and met another midwife. I want to say her name was Jenny but I'm ashamed to admit I honestly can't remember. She told me she would be back at 6 to do another CTG and I was pretty much left to it apart from when I was given paracetamol at around 2. As the hours went past the contractions definitely stepped up a notch and I was writing in pain on my bed. I was also desperate for a wee but every time I went I was unable to go as it felt like something (I'm assuming the head) was blocking it. By the time it hit 6 I was frustrated and in agony and pretty much ready to scrap a natural birth and beg for an epidural. My midwife didn't show up till around 6.15 as it was so busy and I was nearly in tears. She could see I was in a lot of pain and said she would do an internal check after the CTG.

The CTG was set up and initially everything seemed dandy. But as soon as my next contraction hit, Mattie and I watched the heart rate drop...and not just a little bit. Initially we thought maybe the baby had moved position but it became pretty clear that wasn't the case. My midwife called for another midwife and told me to stay on my side. I remember the other midwife arriving and saying "oh". Before I knew it they told me I would have to go to delivery immediately and were talking about phoning various people. At this point I started balling and repeatedly saying "please don't let me lose this baby too". My midwife hugged me and told me it would be OK, she was going to make sure it would be. I realised then that I couldn't stress because baby was already struggling to I sucked it up and before I knew it I was being smashed through doors at an alarming speed to the delivery ward. I honestly felt like I was in an episode of Holby City or something!

From this point, things moved pretty quickly. I met another lovely midwife and she examined me and said I was already at 5cm...I was actually disappointed as I hoped he would be hanging out due to the sheer amount of pain I was in. She said she needed to break my waters and get our little man ASAP. I refused at first because I was so scared of the pain but she told me she really needed to so yet again I told myself to man up and gave her the go ahead. It actually didn't hurt at all, I have no idea why I made such a fuss. I was on the gas and air from this point so I was pretty out of it...I'm basically relying on what Mattie has told me.

The heart rate was still a bit of an issue...sometimes it was fine and then it would drop again. They inserted a drip to speed things up (Mattie said it was horrific and was a whopper needle). I just remember a lot of people appearing in the room and it felt like I had a small crowd all peering between my legs. They told me they needed to take blood from baby's head to check if he was getting oxygen. Again, I panicked and thought this meant he was going to be brain damaged. I heard someone shout out "he has lots of hair!" and Mattie was trying to cheer me up by saying "you hoped he would have hair didn't you" and I pretty much growled at him because my baby's hair was the least of my concerns at this time. The results came back that baby was fine but I was in so much pain and terrified something would go wrong. I think the midwives were stressing too...I imagine the pressure of delivering a healthy baby after a stillborn one would be pretty high and stressful. They were amazing though and constantly comforted and reassured me which was what I needed.

After about 20 minutes of my waters being broken I was pretty much done. I'd had been poked and prodded and I felt exhausted. When I heard someone say that I was going to be taken for a c-section, I felt total relief. Finally the pain would be over and I could have my baby. However, just as they were about to take me to be prepped for the c-section I heard myself annouce "you can't move me, he's coming now" and sure enough, in a shot his head was out and after another push I saw my baby. He didn't cry straight away but then he let out a little cry and he was lifted onto me. I was still wearing my topshop top I wore in, so much for my well planned birthing outfit! I remember saying "we did it Mattie, he's here" and he was. He was breathing he was alive and I got to look into his big, curious eyes with his long lashes.

By some miracle I needed no stitches and I was back on my feet instantly. Hunter was checked over by doctors due to him being early but he's absolutely fine, minus a tinge of jaundice. If anything, Mattie suffered the worst as he saw everything happen and has told me that I'm not allowed to have any more babies...HA!

I can't pretend it's been easy. I didn't sleep for the first 48 hours as I was terrified he would die in his sleep or when he was sleeping I would wake him because he looked just like Freddie. But it has gotten easier as we get to know each other. I am totally besotted and in love with him, he is totally gorgeous and such a good baby (so far anyway!). I can't imagine my life without him now. He will never replace Freddie but he has helped to heal us beyond belief. I finally feel like my life is complete again. Our beautiful rainbow baby, Hunter Jenkins.

*PS sorry about the poor written quality of this post...I've tried to rush it in between Hunter's naps which is no easy task, believe me*

Surviving Easter and Our First Scare

I meant to write a post about our first Easter without Freddie a while ago but just never got round to it, I feel like life is going at 300 mph recently! So I thought I would combine it with our first little scare, that felt like a big scare, that happened today. Just so you know, everything is fine now *touches wood* thankfully.

Easter was actually pretty lovely. I imagined it being a lot worse than it actually, like most of Freddie's milestones. My parents made him a beautiful floral basket to go on his grave. My mum picked the flowers, basket and rabbit and my dad arranged them. They also did one for my Grandad which was sweet as it was like they matched.

We actually took his basket up on Good Friday as the weather was so lovely and it just felt right. Knowing it was on there for Easter really helped me, I knew he would know we were thinking of him. I wish we could have him with us, trying his first ever Easter egg and making a mess everywhere...just like everyone else. But, like so many things, it's just something else we will never get to experience with him.

Mattie and I spent the day together and even ventured out through the rain (our car conveniently broke) for a pub Sunday lunch. I may or may not have treated myself to an apple and pear crumble with custard for pudding too! It really helped me to focus on the happier points instead of reflecting too deeply on what I was missing out on with Freddie.

On a not so positive note, today gave us our first (or rather my) first "scare". I woke up at 8 and led back, expecting to receive my early morning kicks but there was nothing. I still stayed positive and went to make Mattie and I breakfast, washed down with a hot mug of sweet tea to get baby H moving. I sat down and waited...all I got was a few tiny flutters that could easily have been confused with digestion movements. I still tried to remain calm and positive and went back to bed to encourage movement whilst Mattie went off to play football. I led there and waited and waited for a kick or punch to reassure me but there was nothing. Nothing would budge him, I gently rubbed my belly, played him music, lay on my left and right, drank ice cold water but he was totally still. I began to cry and the negativity was quick to creep in and I started to prepare myself for the fact I was about to lose another baby. Luckily I have super supportive and organised friends that encouraged me to phone the hospital so I could be assessed, which I did. I couldn't get hold of Mattie to let him know what was happening which was pretty scary and isolating but luckily he did come home before my appointment and was able to come with me.

By the time my appointment came around I had began to get little kicks but not as hard or as frequently as before so I knew I was right to be getting checked over. The midwife that saw me was unaware of Freddie but once I told her, she was lovely and reassuring. She really put me at ease and actually spent time with me, thoroughly checking everything to put my mind at rest. When it came to listening to his heartbeat with the doppler (no CTG as I'm not 28 weeks yet) I nearly stopped breathing myself. It always brings back memories of the silence that fell when Freddie's couldn't be heard. But it was there, loud and strong for a whole minute (as well as some hefty kicks which made me look like I'd made up the whole reduced movement saga! Ha!).

So here we are, as fine as we can be at this stage. Baby H is kicking away loud and clear whilst I type and I love every minute of it. Hopefully he won't give me any more scares between now and his birth but I definitely won't hesitate to get it checked if I feel it necessary. Something which I would advise all mothers to do.

Pregnancy Update - 23 Weeks

I'm one week away from having a "viable" baby. Not that I would ever wish for this little peanut to be born anytime soon, but it's reassuring to make it to this milestone. When I found out I was pregnant with this baby, I never dreamed I would even make it to the 12 week scan but I did. Then I made it to the 20 week scan and now I'm here with a very active little man...only a footstep away for 24 weeks. I think that is how I'm managing to keep going and how I'm managing to stay (generally speaking) positive...by focusing on the next milestone ahead. And when I reach it, I aim for the next.

I'm already pretty anxious for my 28 week scan and appointment. We'll be penciling in a rough plan for the delivery and checking that the little man is still healthy. I'm also hoping he'll be tucked nicely in the head down position. I know babies can move around up till about 35 weeks but Freddie stayed breech from 20 weeks till the end and I'm scared this little man will too. I also know plenty of people have had successful births with a breech baby but, after the difficulties it caused me before, I'll be a nervous wreck if I have to go through a breech pregnancy again. I'm trying to work out how he's currently lying but I'm getting movements all over the place so I'm not entirely sure.

As I mentioned earlier, I'm generally doing OK emotionally. Of course Mother's Day was incredibly difficult for me but I persevered and after a morning cry session, I kept myself busy and made it through till the end of the day. I am honestly, loving this pregnancy. I feel so much love for this baby boy, something I never thought I'd be able to feel/say. Every kick or punch feels like he's reaching out to me and he's letting me know that he's doing well. I sometimes wonder if his brother has told him that I'm a total worrier so I need as MUCH reassurance as possible.

Physically I'm doing pretty good too...much the same as my last pregnancy. I was fine and dandy until 27 weeks and then it all seemed to hit me like a tonne of bricks. I'm having bursts of energy during the day but around 7pm, I'm ready for bed! Also, the last two nights I've started to feel some lower back pain. Nothing excruciating but enough to be noticeable. I think it's probably because he likes to sit low and it puts pressure on the bottom of my spine! Work is going well considering too. I'm doing shorter and more consistent shifts so my body has adapted to a bit of a routine which helps.

I feel like I'm jinxing it by enjoying this pregnancy so much and I feel guilty that I'm happy about being pregnant with a baby that isn't Freddie. I'm scared that all this "positive thinking" I'm doing is pointless and that I still won't have a healthy baby at the end of this all. But I know I can't let myself think that way. If, god forbid, something goes wrong, I want to be able to have happy memories to look back on, like I have with Freddie. I also want to make sure I'm not stressed, as I know that it can't be healthy for this baby. So for now I'm just going to take it day by day, one milestone at a time until I hear that scream of a healthy newborn that I've dreamed of for so long.

23 weeks down, 17 more 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. 

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?

Love Letter (Capture Your Grief Project - Day 23)

Dear Freddie,

You are my only true love and you are my proudest creation. I know a mother is always biased but you were the most perfect baby I have ever had the privilege to lay eyes upon. 

I love the way your skin was so soft and smelt of that beautiful newborn smell. I love your hair, how the midwife said "it's strawberry blonde!" but really it's a light brown. A perfect blend of mine and Mattie's. I love the way it's tufty on the top but thicker and curly at the back. I love your face. I could write that sentence 1000 times over. Your little button nose, your furry little eyebrows and your chubby cheeks I would have never stopped kissing. Your mouth is my favourite thing about you, it is so perfect and pouty, again it was a gift from your Daddy. I love how grumpy you looked, it always made me laugh. I love your beautiful hands and how perfectly they fit into mine. I love your funny little, well actually not so little, feet and your squashed little toe, I love that it made you special.

I wish I could talk about your eyes, I bet they would be big like mine but blue like Mattie's.

I wish I could have heard your voice, that scream I waited 9 months for but it never came.

I love you so very much Freddie Richard Jenkins. I will never love another more than you and I will never stop loving you.

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.

Grief.

Is My Body Giving Up On Me?

Another moaning and miserable post, shock! I honestly don't know what is going wrong with my body currently. I feel as if slowly but surely it's just shutting itself down like an old computer. Bit by bit, I'm breaking and I feel eventually I'll just switch off altogether.

Initially, I was so surprised at how well my body was recovering from giving birth. I had no tears so no stitches were needed and the bleeding stopped after 5 weeks, right on track. My periods began again, with only a 5 day late window. So far so good. My body slowly shrank back to almost my pre-baby body size. I still needed to tone up but I could fit back into my size 10 jeans after a week. My boobs probably took the longest to settle. I was still producing milk after a month and had to wear breast pads all day and a sports-bra to bed. Eventually they settled and give or take a few stretch marks (I went from an A/B cup to almost an E) they're back to normal. We were given the green light to start trying again from both my doctor and consultant so we did. Everything seemed to return to normality, or as normal as life can be nowadays, and my body was doing just fine.

Then came the back pain. It started in the last month of pregnancy with Freddie. The place I work for are honestly nasty people when it comes to pregnant women. It's nothing against the people I work for, they're fantastic. But the company needs to seriously change how pregnant women are treated. I was heavily pregnant and on my feet for 8 hours, with a 45 minute break. I wasn't able to sit at the till and had to always be busy...tidying, cleaning, fixing displays etc. I was at breaking point by my last shift and my back has paid the price. For the first month or two when Freddie was born the pain went and I thought it had gone for good. But it has suddenly returned and it's worse than before. I've tried yoga, exercise, long walks, changing posture but it's still there. An acute ache. To top that off, I think my wisdom teeth are coming through. I've had really painful jaw ache and my glands are the size of golf balls. Luckily this pain isn't constant and only seems to flare up in the evening and is quickly solved with a paracetamol and a cup of hot tea (how stereo-typically British is that!).

My most worrying issue at the moment is my period. Or rather, lack of it. It is now 2 weeks late. The latest it normally arrives, as mentioned earlier, is 5 days. And yes, I've taken a pregnancy test *5 to be exact* and no, I'm not pregnant. I know stress can alter your cycle but I've actually had a relatively stress free month. I've taken pre-natal vitamins, I've started fertility meditation (thank you Olivia if you're reading!) and I'm exercising and eating better that before I was pregnant. So I'm at a total loss. I've never had a period this late before, well apart from when I was pregnant. It's not like I'm even willing it not to come. If anything I do want it to come so I can get on with trying again. This just isn't like me at all and now it's starting to bother me. I don't know whether to go to the Doctors or whether they'll just dismiss it (like they always do). I don't want to go back on the pill to regulate them either.

Has anyone else experienced something like this or can anyone recommend something?

Normalizing Grief (Capture Your Grief Project - Day 12)

The first thing to clear up is that there is no path of "normailty" with grief. There is no set steps of grief. Grief cannot be put into a category as grief is different for everyone. You can't compare someone grieving the loss of a parent to the loss of a baby or the grief of a pet to the loss of a friend. You just can't. Look around you, everyone is totally different so why should we be expected to grieve the same? I remember trawling the internet when Freddie first died. I didn't know how to grieve. I wanted to know how I should be behaving. All I found were "The Five Steps Of Grief". Aka the biggest load of shit ever. Chances are, at some point you will feel those emotions. But definitely not in that order and almost certainly not one at a time.

I couldn't find a picture that showed how grief is for me. So I wrote about what it feels like, for me anyway. It's not particularly well written but I just wanted to get it out in it's most raw form otherwise it wouldn't be true to my feelings. Anyway, here it is. My grief in a very small and in a no way totally exclusive nutshell.

The Island 

Grief is a really hard place to find yourself in. It's like you've been shipped to a totally foreign island. No one there speaks your language. Sometimes a passer by might try to understand you but eventually they give up and walk away because they just can't get it. They can't understand you because they don't come from the same place. You're trying to find your way around this island but you have no map so you're totally lost. You wander in a confused daze while everyone around you carries on their day. Even worse, you don't know your destination. Everyday you try and concentrate on "where am I going?". You never find the answer so you just carry on, aimless. And this island is noisy, so noisy. There are voices constantly ringing through your ears and you don't know if those voices are yours or someone else's. You can't ever turn them down or shut them off so you can't ever sleep, not properly. When you go back to continuing your pointless journey you're exhausted and you can't tell anyone because they can't understand you. Maybe sometimes you find a fragment of a map and you think you're going to be okay only for it to be blown away by the wind or for someone to snatch it from you. Your hope is constantly taken from you in one form or another. Maybe sometimes someone offers you a tissue once in a while to dry your tears but then they leave when the tears don't stop. You hope that one day a map will arrive for you and you'll know your destination. You hope that maybe one day someone will arrive and they'll be able to speak your language. At times that hope is so very strong and you try to hold onto it with all your might. But at other times the hope drifts away and you let it because you're tired and you're broken.

I'm not sure if grief will ever truly be normalized. We accept that people grieve and we try to help as best we can but there's only so much a person can do when they aren't feeling that same feeling. As a person that is grieving I think that's something we have to accept. Unfortunately, we aren't designed to take on another person's emotions and feelings. We can sympathize, we can try to help but we can't read minds. We can't absorb grief, even though we wish we could if it meant we could fully understand or half the pain of a loved one. That's one of the hardest lessons I've had to learn about the grieving process. You can't force someone to understand, nor can you expect them to. That's just how grief works. It's never going to change so I had to.

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.