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.

Things To Be Proud Of

Since losing Freddie life has been far from easy. It's rare that I find myself truly experiencing a moment of happiness. I find myself constantly holding back from having a good time. I feel guilty for allowing myself to laugh or have fun, I feel like I'm betraying Freddie. But, since joining www.uk-sands.org (I highly recommend joining the sands forum if you have been affected by stillbirth or neo-natal death) I have learnt that it is so important "to be kind to yourself". One woman ended her message to me with that and I've treasured those words ever since.

Of course I'm going to be sad, I'm going to cry into his small, baby outfits, I'm going to spend days in bed, I'm going to ignore and avoid people. It's natural. And, more importantly, it's part of the healing process. That being said, I've recently made an effort to push myself to be happy, to have fun, to smile and to laugh. I know that Freddie wants our lives to continue, I know he wants me to be happy and I know he knows that we will never forget him.

I want to share some things I've done in the past few months that I am proud of. They aren't all massively significant or award winning things but to me they are gigantic steps I've taken in learning to survive with grief:

• I went to a job interview. For most, this isn't a big deal. It's a part of life. But since losing Freddie I'm scared of everything, talking on the phone, making appointments, seeing the dentist. Pretty much anything that involves people I don't know and being away from Mattie *wet flannel alert*. But I did it, I went to the job interview and I survived. I actually got the job too (by some miracle) but I turned it down as we felt the hours were too demanding as we want to try for another baby.
• Deciding to try for another baby. This both terrifies and excites me. There are so many fears that come with a new pregnancy but I need to push myself to do it. I don't in any way wish to replace Freddie but I need a baby. We've decided to relax and see what happens, there isn't any pressure for me to get pregnant, we're just going to let it be.
• Continuing this blog. This isn't a particularly big deal for me. I was writing this blog for Freddie and I'm still writing it for him. If it helps others along the way then that's an added bonus. It gives me a focus and distraction from everyday life and not much offers that currently.
• Visiting my friend and her baby. My best friend's baby girl was born a few days before Freddie, I've seen my friend since but not actually with her little girl. This was a MASSIVE step for me. Although I've passed babies on the street and been near them in church, I hadn't actually spent time with one. Surprisingly, I enjoyed myself and have fallen utterly in love with her baby, she is beautiful and incredibly well behaved! She did ask if I wanted to hold her but I declined, I figured I should learn to walk before I run (but mainly I was scared if I held her I wouldn't want to give her back, she's too cute!). 
• Planning Freddie's anniversary. I know it's a long way off but again, it gives me focus and direction. Thinking of ways to celebrate him brings me such joy and helps me find happiness in his brief existence that was ended so prematurely. I want to make as many lovely memories with him as possible.

 Feel free to comment anything you've done recently that you're proud of!