Posted in Aching Arms, baby loss, baby loss awareness, grief, Jason, life after loss, motherhood, Mum Blogger, mummy blog, Neonatal Loss, parenting after loss, stillbirth

Primary School Offer Day

In an ideal world I’d have been one of those nervous parents waiting to find out what school my boy had gotten in to. In an ideal world he’d have been accepted to the primary school where I work! In an ideal world I’d already have his uniform, or parts of it in preparation and be excitedly making him try it on for pictures. In an ideal world we probably would have had to put Jason in to the special needs school because that is where he’d have the support he needed. In a less ideal world we’d have to settle or appeal the decision.

I would give so much to be able to take that less ideal world. To be one of those excired/nervous parents dying to know.

Things like this shouldn’t cause me grief, I probably wouldn’t even acknowledge it if I didn’t work in a school however when September comes and I see all those parents and little reception newbies on their first day I know it should be me there too. I will see their anxiousness and wonder whether I’d have felt the same or whether we would both be ready for him to start school. I feel like Ellie is ready to start nursery so I know she will be fine but I will never know what Jason would have been like.

My life with him seems further and further away with every milestone that we don’t hit together. I’ve missed his first words, first steps, first hug, first smile and now ill be missing his first day at school too.

Of cause I miss him constantly and the ache I have to have both of my children here is never ending but sometimes days are harder to deal with than others and there are some days where you just can’t help but think how fucking cruel the world is.

Posted in Aching Arms, baby loss, grief, Jason, life after loss, motherhood, Mum Blogger, mummy blog, Neonatal Loss, pregnancy and infant loss, Pregnancy Loss

27th March

I can’t help but wonder whether that day was when everything started going wrong.

Illness had struck, I worked in a nursery at the time and the sickness bug had hit the kids. The day I was due to finish for my maternity I ended up having off as I was being sick and I felt so bad for not working my last day.

I hadn’t thought much of being sick, other than being grateful I didn’t suffer from morning sickness as I just wouldn’t have coped. I’m not a good sick person at all. I spent the day on the sofa, wrapped up in a blanket feeling baby kicks (or so I thought… More like flutters with him being so tiny!) and generally feeling dreadful. I had a constant smell of cigarette smoke around me which was odd as I have never smoked and no one was near the house. To this day I wonder whether someone was trying to tell me something was wrong. That in just 2 days my baby would be gone.

I have since learnt that being sick can be a sign of labour starting and I wonder whether I had signs but was too naive to recognise them. I had just turned 35 weeks pregnant and was innocent in thinking I had 5 weeks to go before we’d meet him. I was unaware that babies were born so early and it’s not something midwives tell you is a possibility either. I feel that the information you are given is just what they think you want to hear not what you should actually know.

The next day I felt perfectly fine, I’d cancelled plans with friends because I had been ill but actually thought about uncancelling due to how much better I felt. I’d taken a picture of my growing bump in a summery dress, we took a stroll to Tesco for pizza as it was what “baby wanted” and while walking around I had started to feel some pains in my tummy that felt a bit like constipation pains… Of cause I know now that they weren’t at all and I should have taken them more seriously and got checked out. Maybe if I had have been checked we’d have been able to save him, we’d have had a chance of saving him.

I think every grieving parent goes through life finding ways to blame themselves for the loss of their baby/child. Those “what ifs” haunt me 4 years later and they always will. Not a day goes by where I don’t feel like I should have known something was wrong and done something.

Posted in baby loss, grief, life after loss, motherhood, mothering a rainbow, Mum Blogger, mummy blog, Neonatal Loss, parenting, parenting after loss, Pregnancy Loss, Rainbow Mummy, stillbirth

Being A Mummy

I have been a mummy for 3 years, 11 months and 15 days and I am learning something new every day.

At first being a Mummy meant I had to adjust to being on my own, with no bump, no little flutters, no life growing inside me and no baby in my arms either. It felt very weird considering myself to be a Mum, even though my body grew a fully-formed 35 week baby. 4 years ago today was Mother’s Day, my first being pregnant and my first as a “mummy”. I remember being completely shocked that hubby had gone to the trouble of getting me a card from my bump and a mother’s day present. I wasn’t expecting anything as even then I didn’t really feel like a Mum yet.  I still have my present from that mothers day; a Playstation Messenger bag, it’s tatty, ripped in places and looking rather old but I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to part with it. It is my only proof that I had a Mother’s Day with Jason alive even if he was still cooking away.

The following Mother’s Day was a strange one. I had to “celebrate” it for my own mum, but really didn’t feel like it at all. Luke ended up needing to work and so I was pretty much on my own. No card, no gifts, no recollection of me being a mother at all. Yes people remembered it was going to be a difficult day but once again, I didn’t feel like a Mum. The day after that Mother’s Day I actually found out we were expecting another baby (our rainbow) and realised that Jason had sent me my gift, my second chance of being the Mum I always wanted to be.

My first Mother’s Day with Ellie was a pretty normal day, I didn’t feel like celebrating however this year I did get a card and some daffodils which was perfect. It felt odd for me to celebrate just because Ellie was here, I miss Jason so much that anything where he should be included just feels wrong to carry on with.

We do “celebrate” Mothers Day/Fathers Day but only because I know as Ellie grows up and goes to school things will be made and cards with her handprints will be produced and Ellie will want us to be happy, like all the other parents. I WILL be so eternally happy with anything she makes and brings home because they will be from her but it will always be mixed with a tinge of sadness that I’ll never get anything like this from Jason.

This year’s Mothers Day (UK) falls just 2 days after Jason’s 4th birthday/day he died and I’m not sure how I’m going to manage it. We haven’t planned anything because in all honesty I don’t think I want to do anything. I can’t celebrate being a mum to my children when I never got the chance to celebrate being Jason’s mum or to throw him the 4th birthday party he would have had with his nursery friends.

This year feels very different to previous years, although I don’t want to celebrate it, I feel more like a Mummy to BOTH my children than I ever have before. Ellie is taking an interest in Jason’s picture and saying his name occasionally and that alone is a healthy reminder that he will always be my baby and I will always be his Mummy…just from afar…until one day I can be reunited with him, wherever that may be in the afterlife.

The point I am trying to make from my waffling on is that there is no right or wrong way to deal with these celebrations. Mothers Day can have as much impact on your lives as you want it to. You can ignore it completely like I chose to do in previous years or choose to celebrate the fact that regardless of how many “living” or “dead” children you have, they are yours and you are and will always be their Mum/Dad.

Posted in baby loss, grief, life after loss, motherhood, Mum Blogger, mummy blog, Neonatal Loss, parenting, parenting after loss, pregnancy and infant loss, stillbirth, telford

Goodbye February

Goodbye February, this month has been a mixed month. I started off feeling very low and depressed and finished the month off feeling grateful and full of love. As a family we have made so many memories and spent a whole week together having lots of fun.

With the end of February comes March, a month I literally dread. We have lukes birthday on the 4th which I love as I’ve always loved being able to spoil him and show him how much I love him. We’ve always celebrated his birthday with a meal out with his family and we are going to a local favourite place of ours (I may post about it after) on Sunday for Sunday lunch which I am looking forward to.

The rest of the month is a countdown. Reliving the days and weeks before Jason’s death, trying to come up with a reason it happened or something we have all missed. Blaming myself because I was naive to think I deserved to have my baby and that babies were safe! I actually hate the person I was because I was ignorant to the fact that this has happened for thousands of years and it still happens today.

4 years ago I was blissfully unaware that in just 29 days my whole world would collapse. I was hoping my unborn baby would arrive early, impatient to meet him1her and moaning about my pregnancy aches and pains. 4 years ago I wasnt at all scared about being pregnant or that something bad would happen.

In 29 days my son SHOULD be 4. I SHOULD be planning his 4th birthday party and inviting all of his friends from nursery. I SHOULD be spending my money on a few more presents because he deserves it and buying the best birthday cake because if he was like his Mummy and Little Sister he’d have loved cake. I SHOULD be deciding on the theme of his party and writing lists of the food I would need to buy.

Those things were stolen from me. Taken. Gone.

All the things I dreamed of doing as a parent, as a first time mummy, were taken from me the day we were told Jason only lived 37 minutes.

His whole life was spent looking at doctors, nurses, paramedics trying to save him. He never got to be with his parents, the people who love him. I never got to hold him alive.

With March comes a whole lot of memories of that day, one’s I try to suppress partly because it hurts so God damn much and partly because after 4 years you are expected to just get on with it. Jason’s birthday I will have to get up, go to work, pretend that 4 years ago I didn’t have to say goodbye to my son and I’d never see him again. Pretend that everything is okay even when it isn’t.

March is the month that gave me my son and I will Always be grateful for the short time I had with him but it is also the month that took my son away and I can’t wait for it to be over.

Posted in baby loss, grief, life after loss, mental health, motherhood, mothering a rainbow, Mum Blogger, mummy blog, Neonatal Loss, parenting, parenting after loss, Positive Wellbeing

Positive Failure

A while back I shared the struggle I was having with myself. My mental health was taking a right beating and I was finding it hard getting it back to a healthy balance.

It took a while and a complete breakdown for me to realise that I wasn’t failing. I have spent days, weeks, months feeling like I am a failure. Failing at being a mum, a wife and a friend. Basically failing at being a human being. But the truth is I wasn’t failing at all, I was having a hard time and that is okay. Positive failure.

Admitting things arent perfect is okay. It doesn’t mean you aren’t the best person you can be at that particular time.

Since my “breakdown” I’ve felt better. Something in me may have snapped but I’ve found I can make it even stronger. Positive failure.

I’ve made an effort to be calmer, I’ve made an effort to do more things with friends, simple things like talking more but it’s a start and I celebrated my birthday with the most amazing people I could wish for and it reminded me of how lucky I am to have people who care enough to tell me Im not myself.

That was a hard one to hear, I could sense it in myself but no one has ever said it so plainly as someone I have known pretty much my whole life. I’ve spent so long pretending I am okay, smiling as is I’m not broken inside and hoping others accept it that actually I’d forgotten how to show my true feelings when I needed help.

In the past few weeks I really have noticed a huge change in the way I feel. I feel happier, I’m not as stressed out over slight things. Ellie’s tantrums aren’t taking me to breaking point when actually they aren’t that bad and in return Ellie has been happier. We’ve had more good days than bad days and was able to enjoy our half term off as a family. We made memories that I hope I will never forget and my heart is full of complete love and happiness.

I know this feeling may not last as long as I would like, saying Goodbye to a lovely February means saying Hello to March. To a month that starts off so happy with Hubby’s birthday celebrations but once the 4th is over it turns in to a countdown until Jason’s birthday. The day we should be celebrating his 4th birthday and yet a day where I am reminded of everything I gained and lost within moments. The day he died and I had to say goodbye.

Please be mindful that if I seem distant and off, it is not intentional. I am just grieving for the life of my son who I can’t hug and who I miss so much every day. My heart breaks with every memory we make as a family because he will always be missing but I am also grateful we can make these memories with Ellie, she saved me in ways she will never know and I will always try to be better for her. She is the reason I breathe and for her I will try and make March as gentle as I can.

Posted in baby loss, grief, life after loss, mental health, motherhood, mothering a rainbow, Mum Blogger, mummy blog, Neonatal Loss, parenting, parenting after loss

Breakdown

Do you ever feel like the world is spinning so fast and you start to feel so dizzy and there’s no way of slowly it down?

As much as I am putting in to life and being present, my own mental health is taking a huge bashing. I am constantly worried about everyone else, about work, about everything that my head feels like it is going to explode. I am usually quite good at sensing when I need to try and rest, I can feel my body become exhausted and drained. I know that carrying around so much extra baggage isn’t good and for my own sake and my families sake I should take a step back, let someone else deal with it for a change but that’s not who I am. I have spent my entire life focusing on someone else and I am a parent and focusing on someone else is so much more important.

I am not proud of myself, I am not really sure how I feel or even who I am sometimes. Today I had a meltdown, a screaming, toddler-like tantrum over a pair of trousers. I could see the wrong; I wanted to stop, hug E and take a step back but I couldn’t. I could see the rage inside me and I hated myself. I would NEVER hurt her, I know that much, but in that moment I really scared myself. There were lots of tears, mostly from me and it wasn’t even 7:30am!

I don’t want to be that parent, the one of shouts at the smallest things. I don’t want E growing up to resent/hate me. I don’t want her to feel like I have failed as her mum but right now that is exactly how I feel. I am so scared of losing her, of something happening to her that the guilt is immense. I should be more easy-going, able to just be in the moment and remember the heartache we went through to have a living child but this is so difficult sometimes. I often wonder whether I get like this because of Jason’s death, could it be linked to grief, PTSD, losing a baby fucks things up, or am I really this bad of a mum? Would I be struggling this much if Jason had lived? His needs would have been much more demanding, I’d have needed far more patience and I wonder whether I’d have coped with him. I just don’t know. I hate thinking I’d be better for Jason because that makes it sound like Ellie isnt as important but that couldn’t be further than the truth. Everything I do is for her, I want her to grow up with the childhood I never had, to choose who she wants to be and to have the relationship with her to spend time together and have fun.

I have no idea what’s going on right now, hormones, grief, I’ve even questioned whether I have PTSD or postnatal depression, I am unsure of whether after 4 years of trying to be strong and hold it all together that Jason’s death is actually hitting me like a tonne of bricks and I am finally feeling like Luke does. I’m scared that if I talk to someone they are going to prescribe and that’s it. I don’t want to forget the pain or never feel it again because that’s the only way I know to be his mum and parent him. The grief and the sadness is a huge part of remembering him and as horrible as that is to endure that is parenting a baby who isn’t here.

I’m not sure whether I’m looking for clues or answers here just hope that in time I will reread this and see how far I have come.

Posted in baby loss, baby loss awareness, grief, life after loss, motherhood, Mum Blogger, mummy blog, Neonatal Loss, parenting, parenting after loss, pregnancy and infant loss, stillbirth, telford

Gone Too Soon

Not a day goes by

That I don’t think of you

I’m always asking why

This crazy world had to lose

Such a ray of light we never know

Gone too soon

Whenever I use the laptop to do some blogging I always find myself listening to the same songs. Sad songs. Ones that make me think about grief and death and everything that has happened to my family.

It makes me sad, angry, confused but it makes me feel closer to Jason somehow, like by listening to sad songs it reminds me that it is okay to not feel okay. It’s okay that I’ve felt so low and confused but I’ve lashed out at those I love for no reason and I don’t know why.

You are my one and only

You can wrap your fingers round my thumb

And hold me tight.

And you’ll be alright.

Maybe you were needed up there

But we’re still unaware as why.

Lyrics are incredibly powerful, you can feel so much just by really listening to lyrics. Sometimes the happiest sounding songs are the ones filled with the most unhappy memories. For a long time after Jason died I couldn’t listen to music. I remembered spending hours and hours searching for the perfect songs to play at our wedding, each one linking in someway to our relationship, our love and I remembered the joy it gave me.

Like a shooting star
Flying across the room
So fast so far
You were gone too soon
You’re a part of me
And I’ll never be the same here without you
You were gone too soon

The next time I researched the perfect music was for my son’s funeral. Can you imagine how that feels? Finding the perfect music knowing you will never be able to listen to that song in the same way? Knowing that the next time you will have to listen to it is when you are standing looking at that tiny coffin that is holding the baby you longed for so much.

Music was no longer my safe place, it was there reminding me that I was going through the worst and it didn’t matter how happy the music sounded, each one made me miss him so much. Like I said, it took me a long time to find joy in listening to lyrics again but sometimes you need to wallow in your own grief, find those sad songs and sing them as loud (in your head in my case!) as you can and belt out those feelings. For me, this is as much a type of therapy as if I was actually having counselling; it’s a way for me to remember that my life turned upside down, I didn’t know how I was going to make it to the next day, I couldn’t imagine a life without Jason. I didn’t want to imagine a life without him. Sometimes I still wonder whether I’ll wake up one morning and he’d be here, sometimes my mind wanders to a life with him in and it hurts so much knowing i’ll never know what that life could have been like.

Lately I have been struggling balancing life, work and everything in between. I have no patience, I am cranky and frankly a bitch. I don’t really understand why Luke stays with me, I put him through so much and I’ll never forgive myself for making him go through all of this. To the outside world I have dealt with Jason’s death with strength but inside that’s so not true. I am not strong, I’m just good at showing people what they want to see. Society wants us to “get over it” “move on” and although I am open in talking about Jason, every time I have to explain his death my heart breaks once again.

Posted in parenting

Crowdfunding

In exactly 77 days Jason would have been 4 years old and I have lived 1386 days without him.

This seems bizarre as the day he was born I wasn’t sure I was ever going to be able to live without him. I had spent 35 weeks awaiting his arrival, getting to know his little nudges and feeling a love I had never felt before. The day he was born was one of the happiest and THE worst day of my life; I couldn’t comprehend making it to the next day and couldn’t imagine any future. Yet here I am, managing to live a somewhat “normal” life as a wife and a mother.

Jason’s birthday never seems to get any easier and I don’t suppose it ever will but I always try to focus on something for him, I do something in his memory and to raise awareness that stillbirth/neonatal/child loss happens and it happens to people who don’t deserve it and it happens to more people than society likes to admit to.

To celebrate Jason’s life on his 4th birthday I have decided to purchase books that will help support other local families who are in a similar situation to us; families who have suffered the same fate but aren’t as far down the line as we are; families who will feel exactly as we did 4 years ago, alone, distraught and unable to comprehend what tomorrow will bring. These families deserve to be given all the information they can, which sadly we weren’t.

When Jason was born our local bereavement support worker was on holiday (it’s totally allowed!) but that meant nobody was able to support us, we were sent home with nothing, no baby and no memory box. Just us two trying to figure out what we could have possibly done wrong in our lives for this to happen. During the past 4 years I have found so much information and talked to so many other parents who have supported me in ways I never thought was possible, they themselves have written books, attended seminars and universities to raise awareness of baby loss but also to help medical professionals feel comfortable supporting families like mine.

I want this kind of treatment to be available at my local hospital, I want families to feel like they are not alone and this is more common than they think (although I wish more that this didn’t happen at all!!) and so with that I am hoping to purchase some books that have been written with families, parents, siblings in mind and donate them to our local hospital through our bereavement support worker.

There are so many books I am looking at buying already but unfortunately I am not able to do it on my own which is why I have set up a crowdfunding page. For anyone wishing to help me I will include the link to the page below.h

Posted in A Life Without Down Syndrome, baby loss, baby loss awareness, Baby loss awareness week, Blaw2018, grief, life after loss, motherhood, mothering a rainbow, Mum Blogger, mummy blog, parenting, parenting after loss, Pregnancy, pregnancy after loss, pregnancy and infant loss, Pregnancy Loss, stillbirth, telford, Wave of light, Waveoflight

BLAW 2018

Wow what a whirlwind week of emotions it has been. It has been amazing to see so many people raising awareness as much as they possibly can, especially when some of those people are ones who have supported me and welcomed me talking about Jason.

This week there has been so much discussion around baby loss, in parliment, social media, radio and on TV and it has been a long time coming! There is still so much taboo around baby loss however I do still feel like most of the conversation has been around stillbirth and miscarraige and once again neonatal loss is widely overlooked. Jason lived, he was not stillborn and there is still so many unanswered questions about how babies suddenly die after being born alive that isnt researched and I feel strongly that the baby loss community can be very split in terms of how babies die.

Ive not felt like I can join in with this year blaw as much as I would have liked, ive been amazingly busy with work and life in general which has meant my mental health has taken quite a hit; which has meant grief has come along for the ride and I have found myself feeling much lower than usual. As a result I have had to take a step back and think about what is important for me and my family at this time and knowing I am going through another wave of guilt and grief is enough without trying to support everyone else too.

Tonight is #waveoflight and I have lit my candle for Jason, my tiny little twinny bean and all the other babies who sadly are no longer with us.

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Posted in baby loss, baby loss awareness, grief, life after loss, motherhood, mothering a rainbow, mummy blog, parenting, parenting after loss, Uncategorized

My Journey To Elsie with an Incompetent Cervix

I am so incredibly honoured to share a post written by a wonderful Mummy to her two children. Lauren is one of the Mummy’s I found over on IG who unfortunately is part of our baby loss community. Lauren reached out to me as she felt that sharing her story may help others who might find themselves in the same situation she did.

October is Elsie’s month and to start off her celebrations here is her story ❤

Elsie was born sleeping at 23 weeks. I was told the reason for her being born early was because I have “an incompetent cervix.” And that’s exactly how I felt “incompetent.” My body couldnt even keep my own child safe. Elsie was growing perfectly she had beautiful blonde hairs and even though she weighed just over a pound she was fully formed.

Incompetent cervix means that your cervix has started to efface and dilate too soon. This can cause you to give birth too early, typically between 16 and 24 weeks.

Where did that diagnosis leave me? Feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt. Guilt that she was growing perfectly but it was my body that had let her down, my body that had pushed her out when she wasn’t ready, my body was the reason she wasn’t here and it was the reason I was watching Karl, my partner and best friend fall apart.

I became pregnant with Elsie in May 2015, my pregnancy was straight forward except for hypermeresis gravidrum an extreme form of sickness. At 23 weeks and 4 days on the 29th October 2015 I had just had dinner and settled down to watch tv. I started having period like cramps, within an hour I was on my hands and knees in agony. We rang the maternity ward and they said to come straight down. I managed to get into the back of karls car to lay down and that’s when I knew she was on her way as i felt the over whelming urge to push. I knew it was 3 days too soon to try and save her, I knew that was it.
We were seen straight away at the maternity assessment ward, at first the consultant told us I wasnt in labour, Karl and I looked at each in complete relief. Seconds later she examined me for the second time and she said the words which replay in my mind ever since ” I’m so sorry shes on her way, and she’s 3 days too soon for us to try and save her, we will let the delivery bereavement suite know we are coming.” I couldn’t believe I was being told I had to give birth to my daughter who I could still feel moving and kicking safe inside me, but I knew she would die during labour or soon after.

Elsies labour was 27 hours from that point so i had alot of time to think of the outcome, and guilt was a strong factor throughout. When the time came to push, how could i? How could i push my daughter out knowing when i did it would mean she would take her last breath and my world would end?
The guilt when Elsie was born went through every part of my body. I pushed and screamed and screamed for someone to take her away as I felt I didn’t deserve to hold her, I didnt deserve to be called her Mummy, I couldn’t bare to look at her knowing she would never grow up because of me. I felt like it was all was my fault. After a while I decided it was time to see her, and at that minute I knew i would go through the last 27 hours of torture to see her again. My beautiful little girl, dressed in a lilac knitted dress, a colour that would always remain as hers. For two days we got to hold her, read to her, tell her all about her family and our friends and that we loved her very much.

I struggled for a long time blaming myself, I researched incompetent cervix again and again trying to find something that could have pre warned me or find something that meant I could blame this on. I had so much anger inside.

Planning a funeral brought more feelings of guilt. Planning a funeral for my little girl was something I never imagined I would ever have to do. All the little worries you’ve ever had in your life seem so irrelevant when your handed over the ” children and baby coffin guide” when just the week before you were picking out your push chair. The day we went to the funeral home to say our final goodbyes was the the day when I cried like I have never cried before, a sound I didn’t even know your body could produce, a sound that actually scared me. It’s as if your entire body and soul have been utterly broken, shattered and you can’t see any way that this heartbreak can ever feel better. Your completly stripped of everything you once were and everything you have ever known. Your facing a reality that is most peoples worse nightmare. I remember begging for someone to take me with her, what was life now if I didnt have her with me? For the weeks and months after life became so hard. Both myself and Karl couldn’t listen to the radio in the car, couldn’t watch TV, how can life go on when this has happened? How can I listen to happy music? We had to sleep with a lamp on as the darkness reminded us that out little girl was buried in complete darkness. Was she scared? Every feeling and thought we had was so raw and hurt like hell.

After a while we attended counselling together at a centre which specialises in parents losing babies/children at any gestation or age. We worked through how we both felt and slowly I began to realise this wasnt my fault, it was my body but I couldn’t have ever predicated this would happen and I couldn’t have done anything to stop it. It all happened so fast.

We now have Elsies brother with us, who to us is a miracle from his sister. The feelings of guilt have slowly come back this year whilst I’ve watched Finley grow up, watching all the things he can do that Elsie never can. Watching Finley watch other siblings play together at the park, knowing he has no idea his sister should be there beside him holding his hand.

We try and think that Elsies purpose of life was to bring her little brother safely into the world, we speak about her because we love her just as much as we love Finley.

With Finley I had a cervical stitch placed at 15 weeks and removed at 36 weeks. It wasn’t straight forward at all, my anxiety and panic attacks were pretty much constant all throughout my pregnancy and even now some days when hes poorly I really believe he will be taken from me but this is something I have recently started working on with counselling again.

For anyone who’s going through a diagnoses of incompetent cervix I would say keep going, its not your fault, there’s help out there and in future pregnancies keep pushing to be seen by a premature consultant as without ours I dont know if I ever could have gone through pregnancy again! Make your voice heard as to what you want.

Finley has healed our hearts in so many ways and taken away so many very dark days, but Elsie left a hole that will never ever be filled, her absence is felt in everything we do and I will never stop wishing that my babies were here together doing all the things a brother and sister should do. xx