Wednesday 20 November 2013

My girls.

As I mentioned in my first post, I own and run a dance school. We're a relatively small school, but ever expanding, and my business means the world to me. I've built it up from when we opened the doors in December 2011, I've seen people come and people go, but I have my little dancers who are devoted to the progression of the school and have that spark inside them to be dedicated to their dancing studies. They're my little extended family, I love these children and I am continually proud of their achievements and watching them grow.

When I found out I was pregnant everyone was so excited, parents included. I was supported when I was struggling with sickness and had to take time out (an extremely rare occurrence, I never take time out from my business!) and the girls were intrigued by Harry's scan pictures and my protruding bump! I laughed when they asked me questions such as "what does it feel like to have a baby in your tummy?" and they laughed at me when my bump started making it difficult to get up from the splits. They were so happy at the prospect of a little baby joining our dancing family. I was so touched when I received a picture drawn by one of my 6 year olds of me with bubs in my tummy.


Following our scan I obviously had to take time off, I was extremely lucky to have close friends who were able to take over for a short while. I worried for my girls, how would they react to this? Would they understand? I explained to the parents what the circumstances were and left it in their hands to tell their own children the news in a way they felt appropriate. I was scared to go back in case one of them mentioned anything and I broke down, I didn't want to let them see me so broken.

Returning and seeing them all actually came so much easier than I expected, it was actually a relief. Children get over situations remarkably quickly. Getting back to the studio and watching them dance and laugh and chatter, I couldn't help but feel content. Dancing is such a release and for those few hours a week I spend with my girls and dancing, my mind is distracted and I'm almost happy. They keep me busy and I'm throwing myself back into running my school, it's keeping me sane.

So many people offer support and guidance....these children send me a life line and a huge hope for the future. I know how fond they would be of Harry had they met, I know he is with us in that studio giggling at their childish antics and enjoying the music and dancing. How I wish Harry could have had this life too, but he is always in my heart, I dedicate my dancing work to him.

A phased return.

Returning to work was never going to be easy. I took 6 weeks off in total from finding out Harry had problems at the 20 week scan. I am so appreciative that I was allowed this time off, yet so annoyed that I was not entitled to maternity leave. If I had given birth just 3 weeks later I would have been entitled to the full 12 months (although I probably wouldn't have taken all this time!), why was 3 weeks earlier any different? I still had to spend time in hospital. I still went through labour and delivery and the physical and emotional aspects following this. I am well aware this time is for new mothers to settle into motherhood and look after their little bundles of joy, but I am a new mother as well, a grieving one....I need time too. There is no time limit on grief.

I was not ready by any means to return to my job. Without saying too much, I work in a department where I am faced with parents who could be described as "unappreciative" for what they have and have to hear some, quite frankly, awful things with regards to children. Not at all what I want to hear at the best of times, let alone after my recent difficult loss. But due to financial reasons, I had no option other than to return.

I was extremely nervous and anxious and spoke to my manager about my concerns. She has been a huge help and offered support. I knew the 20 minute bus journey to my workplace would be sorrowful, how many hours had I spent on that bus looking at cute baby outfits on my phone and planning the nursery whilst commuting? Sitting at the same desk where I'd spent time discussing my plans for the future with my friends and displayed my scan pictures with pride. Seeing colleagues who were currently pregnant, tummies ever swelling and leaving one by one for maternity leave.

It was agreed that I could do a phased return....3 hours per day for the first week, 4 the next and so on. Standing at the bus stop I felt so heavy. As I predicted, I sat and let a few tears flow as I travelled. The last time I'd done this journey I had a 20 week bump and was excited about my imminent scan. Walking into the office I was not sure what to expect. Would everyone make a fuss? A few hellos and friendly smiles, a couple of welcome backs and I was settled into my new desk (we'd agreed it may help for a change of view in the office...) and logged into my computer. It felt strange, as though nothing had ever happened.

I coped remarkably well for the first 2 hours until I saw one of my pregnant colleagues. I was caught of guard and instinctively asked how she was doing (pregnancy wise) although she didn't delve into great detail, there was no mistaking the rounded belly. She left and I broke. Of course I wish her well, we spent many a conversation previously about how our pregnancies were progressing, comparing bumps and discussing when we would be leaving (which would have been around the same time in December) but seeing how well she was doing and looking down to my almost flat stomach now my heart stung. Why me? It is so incredibly difficult seeing pregnant ladies and I don't want them to think they are upsetting me, it's not their fault, but right now I can't bear it. I left early.

I'm into my second week back now, at the moment it still doesn't quite feel like I should be there. I well up on occasion but fight back the tears, my mind is elsewhere meaning I can't concentrate, I'm watching the clock for the time I can escape. I'm uncertain if and when it will get easier to be there, but for now I'm just trying to ride out the storm.

Wednesday 13 November 2013

The first memorial service

Wednesday 6th November 2013

This day we were invited to a memorial service held annually by our funeral directors, for families to come together in honour of their loved ones who have passed.

I decided to go on my own, although I asked my dear husband and mam if they would like to attend, I knew that this was something I wanted to do alone. It would be a big step for me, but I wanted this time alone to reflect.

Arriving at the beautiful church I was greeted by K.R, the kind man who arranged Harry's funeral, with a big hug and smile. He asked how I was doing....a question I can now only answer with "I'm ok"....he knew I was not. I was ushered to a seat near the front of the church, as I walked in I could feel the tears creeping up, that familiar sensation shaking through my whole body where my arms start to tingle and I don't feel a part of my own body anymore. I sat down and tried to fight the tears back, I didn't want to upset others around me.

The service began with a welcome from the reverend and a request to stand for the first hymn. "Make me a channel of your peace". As I've explained previously, I am not particularly religious, but I did attend church with my mam as a child and this song reminds me so much of being a young girl and standing with my mother, attempting to sing lyrics I didn't quite know or understand. At that moment I could no longer hold back the tears, I sobbed quietly.

Words of sympathy, love and hope were spoken by another gent. His closing line... "As John Lennon said, All You Need Is Love" a phrase from one of my favourite songs that was also played at our wedding. I actually have an ornamental block with this phrase written on at home. I held on to my locket with Harry's photo in and suddenly knew he was here with me. I can't explain it....I often get these moments, a rush of love and comfort. I embraced this moment.



The service continued, a young girl sang "Make You Feel My Love" by Adele, a priest offered his condolences and a reading from the bible. The reading of the names....There was such a long list, it was so sad to hear of all these people who had passed, people who were loved and missed terribly, I could see members of the congregation crying for their personal losses. We were, row by row, asked to approach the front to light a candle in memory of our loved ones, as I approached I could see K.R. lighting the tealights silently. I walked towards him and he smiled, "this is a special candle just for Harry". It makes me so proud that Harry touched so many lives.

Returning to my seat, I waited in anticipation for Harry's name to be announced...."Baby Harry James Brittan". There were 3 other angel babies remembered.....I wish I had known who the mother's were in the crowd of people, I just wanted to hug them and tell them I felt there pain, I know what you are going through, you are not alone.

Following this, a group of young children from a local school gathered to sing for us. I couldn't help but smile as there innocent voices filled the church, I thought this part would upset me deeply, seeing what could have been for Harry but it was so humbling to watch as they smiled nervously, all the while singing their little hearts out. They sang three songs in total, but one really rang true for me. A song I've never heard of before, but later informed it is actually a song from The Muppets sang by Kermit the Frog! The lyrics filled me with hope...."Someday you'll find it, the rainbow connection". Harry is telling me not to give up hope, we will go on to have our rainbow baby and he will give us his blessing. The song still rings around my head....



Closing the service, we had a moment of reflection and the owners of P.J.F spoke lovely words to help us through our grief. We slowly began to leave the church....I saw K.R as I left and we hugged again, he wished me all the best for our future and hoped to hear from us with happier news in the near future.

As I left I felt a wave of relief. I was proud of myself for holding it together, I was happy I had honoured my baby by being there.

A sign from Harry....?

Following the funeral and the wedding, as you can imagine we were well and truly drained. It seemed logical to go away for a few days to rest and recuperate and get our heads around what had happened and where we go from here. I had a huge issue with "what now?" The wedding was over and now I should be looking forward to Christmas and New Year, preparing the nursery and the arrival of our first baby on February 6th. I even asked my husband "what do we have to look forward to now?" to which he replied "our future" which I knew was right, but the overbearing feeling of emptiness was slowly engulfing me. I would find myself often stroking my tummy before realising that is in fact what it was now, empty. I'd forget when people offered me a glass of wine that I actually was alright to drink this now, although this in it's own self was a struggle as I felt so guilty, I shouldn't be drinking this, I should still be pregnant. In a fleeting moment when my hubby would ask me to do something where many times before I'd used the excuse to my advantage "I can't, I'm pregnant" I'd almost say those words, before sadly realising this was no longer the case.

I didn't know where I wanted to be. On one hand I wanted to be at home, this is my safe place, on the other hand I wanted to run away. We searched the internet for last minute get away's but there was no where I felt like going, in the travel agents we sat with the kind young girl looking at different locations and different hotels. What did we want out of this holiday? For my husband...sun, beer, a change of location. For me....an escape. After a while of looking, I settled for a hotel in Palma Nova, Majorca, more so because I couldn't be bothered to look anymore. It was away, far enough to get away from everything but still close enough to home so if I was struggling there would be a flight back. We packed our bags and less than 48 hours later were on our way. I struggled again with guilt that we were leaving our little boy behind, his ashes had been presented to us the day prior so, along with his memory box, he went to stay at nana's house....I couldn't bare the thought of leaving him home alone. I also kept thinking "will Harry think we're just forgetting about him? How am I meant to relax or have enjoyment (if any...) from this holiday. He'll think we've forgotten about him"

Arriving at the hotel, the sun was shining, we quickly got changed and headed for the pool to relax. Within 5 minutes the hubby had struck up a conversation with a couple on the next table who as it turned out had arrived the day prior. We got chatting and, on spotting my husbands tattoo tribute to our son the gent announced his name was also Harry James! I was in disbelief.....of all the places we could have chosen to go on holiday, of all the people we could have spoken to we spoke to this man and wife. Some will say this is a great coincidence, but I am a great believer in signs and signals from loved ones who have passed on. I'll admit, my eyes welled up a little when his dear wife showed us a copy of his passport.....Harry James; born 29th May (or 29/05) and our son's DOB... 25th September; or 25/09. I instantly knew this was a sign from our baby boy letting us know that it was ok for us to be here and that he was there with us, to relax now.



We spent the remainder of the holiday spending time with this lovely couple and finding out more about them, more similarities came to light. We shared stories, including all about our journey through pregnancy and delivering Harry, and made happy memories from a holiday I thought I wouldn't be able to find any enjoyment out of. For this I am so grateful to them. Thank you B & H, I think without your company I may have struggled being away from home at such a difficult time, your kind words and humour helped immensely.

Returning home a week later was bittersweet, I was happy to be home...happy to bring Harry home to be in his final resting place with his mam and dad but so incredibly sad and bewildered that things would start to return to "normal" soon, what would I do now? No more organising for weddings, funeral past, holiday over. No due date to look forward to.

Thursday 7 November 2013

Some Thank You's.....

It's at this stage I would like to say some thank you's to the people we have shared our extremely difficult journey with. I won't use names as I know some will be uncomfortable with this, if your initials aren't shown you should know who you are......

To the Sonographers and staff at the Ante Natal Clinic at S.T. Hospital, we thank you for being gentle with us but honest and open also. We realise this is part of your job, a difficult part of your job, but you looked after us well.

To H.T. We can not thank you enough for being so kind at our initial diagnosis, extending your service to bring us our much needed scan pictures, supporting me when I had to start the process with "that" tablet, visiting me when I was in delivery even though we didn't actually get the opportunity to see you, we knew you had come and for attending our little boys funeral. You exceeded your role and are a wonderful midwife and person.

To A.H, S.M. and the staff at the Foetal Medicine Department at RVI Hospital, we thank you for your honesty in diagnosing Harry and the care you showed us and our son throughout. Our journey with you has not yet ended and we have no doubts in our minds that you will continue to support us through the next step and will be with us every step of the way when we have our rainbow baby on board.

To E.H and the midwives on the Delivery Suite at S.T. Hospital, thank you for the care you gave me and the kindness you showed my family. The day I delivered Harry would have been so much more traumatic if it wasn't for your help and guidance. Thank you for taking care of our baby and showing him the respect he deserved. You really are fantastic at your jobs and we hope to see you all in the not too distant future with happier news.

To K.R and the wonderful people at P.J.F. What can I say? Thank you all for easing the process of organising a wonderful day to honour our angel. Thank you for the care you showed him and for taking such good care of him. Thank you for everything. K.R, we can never show you how grateful we are to you, not only in the organising process and the funeral day, but the compassion you showed me at the memorial service also. You really are a special man.

To K.T. Your words of comfort and the compassion you showed towards us and Harry is so much appreciated. Thank you for being strong in leading the ceremony, we know you found it a bit more difficult than you normally would. We wouldn't have wanted anybody other to speak on our behalf about Harry.

To my very good friends and bridesmaids. My rocks. You know how much I always appreciate you, you're always by my side through good times and bad. I want you to know I am always here for you too. I love you all. Thank you.

To my parents, step parents, in laws. Harry's grandparents. We will move through this together, side by side. We will lean on each other in tough times and celebrate together in happier times. Harry is with you all and I know you will carry him in your hearts and minds. We will keep him alive through talking and remembering him. We love you.

To our families. Brothers, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. Thank you for being behind us not only through this sad time, but for our wedding and throughout our lives. Let this bring us all even closer together. Love to you all now and always.

To all the ladies from TFMR on Babycentre. Together we travel through this sadness knowing nobody truly understands exactly what we have been through. You ladies are so strong, even when we think life is crumbling around us. Big hugs.

To S.G and A.G. Even though I've never met you girls in person, your messages through facebook have helped me. S.G. I wish you all the best wishes and health in the world with your ever-growing bump and little man. A.G....We will get there sweetie, I have high hopes for both our futures and expect rainbow babies in the future.

And finally, to our friends, colleagues, associates, friends of friends. To the strangers who we've encountered. To the people we see almost daily yet barely know. Readers. We thank you for your words of sympathy, kind words of hope and the compassion you have shown towards us and our special angel baby, Harry James. You've shown me that we do actually live in a world where we can offer love and support to not only the people around us, but to people we have not met. As John Lennon said...."All you need is love".

Thank you all and much love to you xxxx

Our wedding

Saturday 12th October 2013

The start of our next chapter.


Let me quickly explain. Me and my then fiancée had gotten engaged in June this year. I had only just found out I was pregnant with Harry 2 weeks prior and this was one of the happiest times of my life.
 
 
 

We had planned to get married in 2014/2015, money dependant (obviously we were expecting our new arrival in the new year too!) and we planned an engagement party for October.
 
In August we sadly found out my dad was more poorly than we had anticipated and quickly made the decision to bring the wedding date forward so he would be well enough to give me away. We had a venue booked already for the 12th of October for our engagement party so decided to go ahead with this date as we knew it suited everyone with it being relatively short notice.
 
8 weeks to plan a wedding! A wedding where I would be almost 24 weeks pregnant! I already had a wedding dress which I thought my ever swelling tummy would never fit in to and started looking at maternity wedding gowns. All of which made me look and feel frumpy. After some gentle persuasion, one of my bridesmaids managed to squeeze me in to my already picked dress and we settled that it would be fine. In hindsight a good thing as at this time I was unaware the events that would unfold over the following weeks.
 
When we found there was a problem with Harry my initial instinct was to cancel everything, there was no way I could continue planning my wedding day so close to losing my child let alone go through with it. But after some discussion we realised that firstly we had brought our wedding forward for a reason, secondly Harry would not have wanted us to cancel the day that we had planned to bring all three of us together as a family, we knew we would have his blessing and thirdly we felt we would need this day as a step into our future with Harry in our hearts and constant thoughts.
 
We knew the day would be hugely emotional and obviously didn't anticipate it being the day after our boys funeral, but here it was. Our wedding day.
 
It was a flurry of decorating, hairdressers, make up, organising people and making it to the town hall on time, I barely had time to think about the events of the day before. My almost hubby had bought me a beautiful locket, a tiny picture of Harry inside which I had with me all day. Harry was there. I just knew it.
 
The ceremony was lovely with all our friends and family right there with us. The reception was relaxed and fun, everyone had a fantastic day and night.
 
I was composed all day, no tears until it came to the time I had say our thank you's (the husband not having the stage presence I had in me) I tried my hardest to express how grateful we both were, knowing all these people who showed us such support and love through all of this. I tried to say how thankful Harry would be that his mammy and daddy had so many people in their lives to look after them when they needed it most and that he would be sending each and everyone of them blessings. I tried, but I couldn't. The words wouldn't come and the tears were brimming. I garbled something to the above, but know the words were mixed up, but hoped that everyone knew what I was trying to express.
 
Our first dance was emotional for me too. We spoke quietly about our baby and I let a few tears fall. Drops of Jupiter played out, a song I love from my favourite band, that I had chosen long before we were even aware when our wedding would be, unbeknown to me that the words would ring so much truer than we could ever imagine. The song was written in a time of healing after the lead artist, Pat Monahan, lost his mother. Commenting on the song he writes:
 
"Loss of the most important person in my life was heavy on my mind, and the thought of 'what if no one ever really leaves? What if she's here but different. The idea was, she's back here in the atmosphere."

The lyrics once again hit home for me. Strange how things turn out, it's almost like my mind had saw into the future and unwittingly chosen a song that would be truer than we would ever wish it to be.....


So that was our wedding day. I'll leave this post with one image from our day that expresses so much for me. Its of our first dance. It's of us supporting each other through our grief. It's us starting our married life together. Our next chapter was beginning with our angel by our side.
 

 

The funeral

Friday 11th October 2013

The day no parent should have to endure. Laying their child to rest.

The previous day the funeral directors finally brought Harry home for the first time. In his perfect white casket, a plaque with his name bold. This is not how it should have been. We spent that day with Harry, people visiting to pay their respects. I couldn't quite believe what was happening, yet I had this reminder in front of me, in our living room, That night me and Harry's daddy "camped out" in this room with our son. A family altogether finally in our home.



I honestly do not know how I managed to get up and ready that morning. My body felt drained. Getting ready meant I had to go to the funeral which meant the end of Harry's physical self. I went through the motions....shower, dry hair, do make up (was there any point?) dark clothes on. Before I knew it people were arriving ready for the funeral directors to collect us. I sat next to his casket, willing time to stand still, silent tears falling. When the car arrived this is when I broke, I didn't think I could do it. Panic set in, every inch of me tingled in fear.

I was helped to the car, my partner beside me and we were handed Harry. That slow drive to the crematorium felt like torture. People taking their children to school, looking curiously at the cars, some bowing their heads in respect, I couldn't look at them for long. Arriving at the crematorium, a select few close family and friends waited along with one of our midwives. We were shown into the room to the words of Harry's song to us, my partner carrying the casket and placing it on the pedestal with his big teddy shaped flowers, we sat and waited for everyone to take their seats. I couldn't look up. I couldn't look at that casket anymore. I thought in this moment my heart was broken forever.

The lady composed herself and started with her kind words. Can I remember what was said? No. All I know is her words were of comfort. She read a poem we had chosen for Harry.

"Don’t let them say I wasn’t born,
That something stopped my heart
I felt each tender squeeze you gave,
I’ve loved you from the start.

Although my body you can’t hold
It doesn’t mean I’m gone
This world was worthy, not of me
Angels chose that I move on.

I know the pain that drowns your soul,
What you are forced to face
You have my word, I’ll fill your arms,
Someday we will embrace.

 I’m watching over all you do,
Another child you’ll bear
Believe me when I say to you,
That I am always there.

There will come a time, I promise you,
When you will hold my hand,
Stroke my face and kiss my lips
And then you’ll understand.

Although I’ve never breathed your air,
Or gazed into your eyes
That doesn’t mean I never was,
An Angel never dies."


A moment of reflection. I couldn't think straight. This is just a dream. Quiet sobs behind me.

A poem from mammy and daddy.

"They say there is a reason, They say that time will heal,
But neither time nor reason, Will change the way I feel,
For no-one knows the heartache, That lies behind our smiles,
No-one knows how many times, We have broken down and cried,
We want to tell you something, So there won't be any doubt,
You're so wonderful to think of, But so hard to be without"

Dream a little dream played. People begin to leave and a curtain is pulled across, my baby boy behind.

People kept coming to us saying sorry and giving us hugs. My heart felt heavy as we left and travelled on to another meeting place for refreshments and chat.

I sat with my friends talking about Harry and the fact our wedding was the next day (I've not mentioned this yet, another post will follow) and awaited the arrival of the balloons we had ordered to release. I suddenly felt like some weight had been lifted from my shoulders, yet my heart felt like it had sunk.

Standing out the back of the pub, we released 19 blue balloons and 1 white.... 20 balloons, 1 for each full week Harry had lived inside of me. It was amazing watching those balloons float away, 1 getting stuck in a tree before wriggling it's way back out to carry on it's journey (Harry playing tricks I'm sure!) Off they went into the distance, getting smaller and smaller until the dots disappeared. Just like those balloons, I felt like a part of me was floating away...away to be with Harry wherever he may be.


 

Preparing to say goodbye

The 2 weeks between giving birth to Harry and the funeral felt like an eternity. We had to wait for the tests and post mortem to be completed before he was returned to our local hospital, how much I wish I could have been there with him through all these tests. If they'd allowed me I would have sat in that hospital day in and day out and held his teeny hand so he wasn't alone. In this time me and my partner visited Harry in the chapel of rest initially, along with his parents as they were abroad when I gave birth and wished to meet him. I was a little anxious the first time we went as 3 days had passed and I was unsure as to how he would look. I entered the room first so I could prepare myself and in case I broke down... but there he was, my sleeping angel all wrapped up snuggly in a tiny moses basket, how could I ever have been worried? I'm not going to lie, yes he had started to look different, but he was still so beautiful. I instantly scooped him up in my hands and sat cradling him and giving him mammy cuddles and kisses. I suddenly didn't feel so sad. Again this wave of love was overpowering. We all sat and had cuddles with our special little man, a few photos were taken and after a while I laid him back down and tucked him in tight.

I haven't mentioned this previously and think it is important to say. Obviously we knew the diagnosis was Osteogenesis Imperfecta and that this had affected his arms, legs and ribs. When we saw Harry these were often covered up, I think to protect us from seeing these "imperfections". I'm so glad I actually did look....it helped to confirm in my mind that we had done the right thing. Those tiny little legs looked so frail and his arms and chest were quite obviously effected too, but like I said it was confirmation for me and despite this, he was still perfect in my mind.

The second time we visited Harry he had been returned to our hospital. This meant we could go ahead with the funeral preparations. Again the midwives were so thoughtful and saw us to a private room where he was waiting for us. It had been 10 days now since he was born and I was prepared that his appearance would have deteriorated significantly by now. It's amazing how much he had changed yet still looked so peaceful and those little cheeks still so soft. I knew this would be the last time I would have Harry in my arms in his physical form and made every second count. I ever so delicately dressed him back into his original cardigan and wooly hat and cradled him there rocking him gently just like any new mother does. The midwives sat with us for some time chatting about Harry and I felt so proud right then that he was apart of our lives....not how we had wanted and how much we wished it was different...but here he was, a product of our love, he may not be here in person but will forever be in our hearts and with us in spirit. Again I gently tucked him in and gave him that last kiss on his cool cheek. Sleep tight now my little boy, it's time to rest your body.

Contacting the funeral directors was actually easier than I expected it to be. Everyone was so kind and preparations were made smoothly. This is when we met KR who would be helping us through these preparations, this man is quite honestly one of the nicest and most special people I have ever met, his compassion was sincere and he helped us so much. We also met with the lady who would conduct the service.....a humanist ceremony as neither of us is particularly religious, who couldn't help welling up as we went through the poems we had chosen. The hardest part of this process for me was picking the music. I have a passion for music and didn't want something that everyone else would automatically choose, this was my dedication to my son, how could I find something so perfect? Something that every lyric was meant from my heart? Why was I having to choose music for my son's funeral??! That last question whirled around my head. It's so unfair.

I knew instantly that one of the songs I would choose was "Dream a little dream", the Beautiful South version. This was the song I had imagined myself singing to my son at bed time so many times before, it was only natural for me to want this as we finally lay him to rest and sleep eternally. Every word in that song hits home for me, although the lyrics had a totally different meaning to me now. Please listen....listen to those lyrics and imagine being in my position, these words are to my son.



The second song proved more difficult. I wanted something to reflect what Harry would be saying to us, his parents, family and loved ones. Something stating he is always with us. Hours of searching on the internet listening to countless songs, racking my brain to no avail, nothing seemed to fit...it suddenly dawned on me, an obvious choice now I look back. Here it is, Harry's words to us.





Tuesday 5 November 2013

Empty arms.

Waking up the next morning in the hospital with Harry by my side I felt numb. Although we were told we could stay as long as we wanted, I knew there would be a point where we had to leave. How could I do this? Walk out of the hospital without my baby? He had been with me for 21 weeks, 24/7, and now I had to let someone else take care of him.

We stayed a while. I cried. I held onto my baby and never wanted to let go.

I'm not sure how long I stayed there, I'm not sure what time I left the hospital in all honesty. I was given a memory box filled with a piece of card with tiny (although big for his size!) footprints on, a teddy the same size as Harry, a glass angel, a poem....I was so appreciative that I was given this but at the same time felt so sad that I was leaving this hospital with a box instead of my baby.




Those last few minutes with Harry broke my heart. With the help of my mam and OH I handed my bundle of joy over to the midwife and walked out. That's exactly how it felt. Like I was walking out on my baby. The guilt was unbearable.

Back at my dads I sat not knowing what to do. I knew Harry was being sent for genetics tests that day and felt I needed to phone the hospital he was visiting to make sure he arrived ok (and was "settled in") It's so difficult to not have these motherly instincts, he's still my child.

"I miss him terribly already.... Xx"  

I had so much support all around me. Everyone rallied around. My family were there when I needed them and gave me space when that's what I felt like having. My close friends sat a listened and offered words of support and hope for the future. People I knew from work, dancing, school, friends of friends sent messages of sympathy.

I found comfort in the kind words of the pregnant ladies I had begun to know on B&B, but I needed to speak with someone, anyone, who had been through this experience too.

"I've found a site with women who have been through the same awful experience. 1 week on and the tears are starting to dry a little, but my whole body aches for the want of Harry back safe in my tummy and healthy. I want to scream. The next few months when I should be pregnant and joining you lovely ladies are going to be so difficult....but I will still be keeping an eye out and I'm sure Harry sends you all floaty kisses for thinking of him xx "

I began messaging a lovely girl who had been through the same journey not long before me and this helped a lot in those early days. I also sought comfort in a forum (Termination For Medical Reasons) on Baby Centre. To all these ladies I will be forever grateful for their advice and support.

I cannot remember what happened the rest of this week apart from phone calls to hospitals to see the progress of testing and a visit from a midwife. The rest of it is just a void.

I am a mother with no baby in her arms. I am grieving, my whole body aches with sadness. My heart is full of love for Harry. This is where he'll always stay now. In my heart.

Monday 4 November 2013

Harry James Brittan, Born sleeping 25th September 2013

I was surprisingly calm on the morning, all I kept thinking was "I'm going to give birth today". It was a miserable day outside. I'd been to Asda the previous day with my good friend to purchase some hospital essentials, a new nightie and PJ's, maternity pads, breast pads etc. so my bag was all packed and ready to go. I packed a "tiny baby" sized romper suit and hat, even though I knew they would never fit...I felt it was my duty as a mother to at least try to provide my baby with his first and only outfit. I also took along a fleece blanket my OH's mum had bought and a little snuggle blanket and teddy I had bought when I first found out I was expecting.

Arriving at the hospital we were ushered into a private room away from other ladies also giving birth that day. Our midwife was lovely, a young girl. A dr came to see me to explain exactly what would be happening throughout the day...I got changed into my nightie and lay on the bed. I was still relatively calm, deeply upset, but calm. My mam and OH were there with me.

I remember how uncomfortable it was getting those first 4 pessaries. I felt like I had made my peace with what was going to happen and knew it had to happen. All I could do was lie there and wait. We had the TV on, we chatted, I slept. The cramping started not too long after that initial dose, but it was no more than period cramp and manageable with paracetemol and ibuprofen.. The second dose of 1 pessary 3 hours later was more uncomfortable and within 10 minutes the cramping turned into contractions. Quick contractions that were getting more painful. Not having been in labour before I was unsure if it was going to get worse or what to expect....all I knew was that I wanted to make this process as painless physically as possible.

I held off as long as I could, but soon needed that shot of diamorphine. I warned the midwife that I did not handle strong painkillers well, so was given an anti-sickness injection too (which hurt for days afterwards!) Within 5 minutes I passed out, an effect of the drug and half an hour later woke up and commenced projectile vomiting. The force of which made my waters break. Still woozy from the drugs, I remember getting a shock and saying "It's happening, he's coming", still vomiting and waters still breaking. It seemed a very long time for my waters to stop..... but the midwife got me to the bathroom so she could clean up the bed.

Once back to bed I was given a final pessary. The next 45 minutes are a blur yet so clear in my memory. The drugs helped in the sense I felt emotionless, all I cared about was making sure Harry was delivered safely.... The contractions were strong, but painless. I could feel him coming.

At 4:45pm on Wednesday 25th September Harry James was brought into this world already sleeping. I was 20 weeks and 6 days pregnant. 

The midwife took him carefully to be cleaned up and handed me him wrapped in a white towel and white woollen hat. We were told it had looked like he had passed away naturally 2 days previously after the initial tablet.

I had been so afraid to see him...what would he look like at such a young age? but my god, I was not expecting the rush of love I felt at the moment I looked at his perfect little face. He was so adorable, little curved nose just like me, tiny little mouth and his skin was so soft. So tiny (only 70 grams), he fit perfectly in my hands. This was my son. And I adore him.

The rest of the day was filled with staring at this beautiful boy, silently crying at times, tucking him into a moses basket at night to sleep next to his mammy and cuddling and kissing him. I remember how soft and cold his cheeks were to kiss.

I kept drifting off to sleep, but tried to force myself to stay awake as I knew the time I had with Harry was limited.

I had so many mixed emotions. I was angry and sad.This was not fair. How could life be so cruel? I did not deserve this. I was happy I actually had this time to spend with him, I still got to meet my baby. But most of all I just felt love.

A heartbreaking decision

Monday 23rd September 2013

We returned to the RVI this day to meet with the geneticist for one final opinion. Although we knew in our hearts already what we needed to do, I still clung on to every ounce of hope I could muster up that there had been a mistake. Here was my post on B&B:


"Please do not read if you feel incapable of reading our outcome....I know it will upset some of you.

I write this with great sadness. After speaking with many drs, midwives and specialists our baby boy Harry has been given an awful diagnosis. He would either not survive full term, labour or for very long at all after birth and the short time he would have would be spent in some degree if pain.

We have had to make the unbearable decision to end the pregnancy in order to save his suffering. It is without a doubt the most heart wrenching and saddest things I ever could imagine having to go through. We are all devastated but do this out of pure love and devotion to save our son from pain.

We are in very good care with a dedicated team and support from family and friends through this excruciatingly difficult time.

We thank you all for being there for us and sending wishes and prayers. I wish you all luck and happy, healthy pregnancies and babies. I hope to be back here with happier posts in the future.

Love to you all. Xx "

We were sent straight to our local hospital where I would be giving birth to my sleeping baby, where we met our midwife (I don't know what I would have done without this woman in those few days) and the original consultant. I was given information with regards to the procedure.... a medical termination (how I HATE that word) but to be honest, they could have been telling me anything. Nothing was sinking in. I signed some forms and at that point literally felt like I was signing my child's and my own life away. What I do remember is sitting in that little room with my mam and partner and them bringing in that tablet. This is when I broke down. More so than I had before. How could I do this? Take this little tablet that would inevitably be the start of the end for my much wanted little baby boy?

For someone who has always been against terminations, my eyes had been opened to the heartache and reality that this is a choice (was it a choice? I feel I had no choice....how could I let my son suffer?) that some unfortunate parents will have to face. It is the most selfless thing I could do, I'm taking on the pain of losing my child, my first and only child, so that he didn't have to suffer.

It felt like a lifetime before I managed to take that little pill and as soon as I swallowed it I wanted to reach and throw it back up. But that was it.....home we went to wait out the 2 days before I had to go back to be induced.

I can't remember anything about those 2 days, apart from this....I wanted one last photo of my bump. The bump that was my son's first home. The bump I showed off with pride. The bump that the day after would be empty.

Osteogenesis Imperfecta Type II

Friday 20th September 2013

We went to the RVI this day to see a consultant in the foetal medicine department. I actually felt quite calm and extremely hopeful. I was still in the mind-set that everything would be ok, it had to be! After talking to the midwife, we were shown to a scanning room. The scan was a lot more in depth than previously, all I can remember is the sonographer saying measurements and "normal" after each measurement....apart from the femur, humerus and thorax. A second consultant came to look at the scan and we were escorted into a private room.

I've been thinking about how I want to write this post, reiterating the information given to us that day, but also the emotions I went through that day and the days following. It's been 6 weeks and 3 days since this awful day and although I know the emotions I felt, I feel they have been lost a little as everything was such a daze....like a nightmare. I think the best way to explain is to copy over my posts from Baby and Bump that were written at the time as I was experiencing it.....


"Hi All. Well today has to be one of the toughest I've ever had to deal with.

We don't have good news I'm afraid. Our baby boy has a very rare genetics problem. Osteogenesis imperfecta. His tiny arms and legs are fractured in many places and his rib cage is not forming correctly. We have to see a further geneticist on Monday for further discussion, but likely hood is he would be still born or not live very long, we were told days due to him being unable to breathe on his own.

Im crushed."



"Thank you all. I'm a mess. Really don't know what to do with myself. We are lucky to have great support from family and friends. Life is so cruel. I just want everything to be ok again. Just 4 days ago we were planning our wedding and new baby and now I feel like my world has been crushed. That's my little baby boy in there and I'm helpless to do anything. The only saving grace I have right mow is he can't feel a thing. So incredibly heartbroken."


"I'm just so lost right now. So, so tired and emotionally drained.

For those of you who have seen my previous threads you will be aware that we are getting married in 3 weeks after bringing our wedding forward due to my dad being diagnosed with terminal cancer. My baby has been a huge lifeline for me at this difficult time, I often listen to the heartbeat as a source of comfort.... This diagnosis is so cruel for anyone, but I feel like my baby is being cruelly snatched away from me at an already unbearable time. I really don't know how to cope.

Your kind words really do help."


"We've had 2 opinions so far. They originally had thought achondraplasia (dwarfism). On specialist looking they've said oi type 2 which is a lethal form. We have to go back Monday to see a geneticist who will look further...but his poor little bones are so broken they are curled in and his ribs are not growing correctly (bell shaped) and too small so it is likely once being delivered he won't breathe on his own or will pass shortly after...normally.hours. And we have to consider the pain he would have too.

The diagnosis is pretty certain. With him being so young in utero with so many breaks already when he's protected by everything it looks pretty much likely type 2. But just to be even crueller they would never know until delivery so we have a choice to continue knowing the likelihood and seeing him suffer or terminate sooner than later. How am I meant to make this decision? His organs are all normal, although lungs will probably not develop, his skull, face and spine are normal...we even saw a little yawn the other day. I have bonded with him, and love him so much."



"I really don't think I could put myself through another 20 week's knowing that at the end we will lose him anyway. Yes they would give him pain relief, but how much pain relief can they give such a small baby to make it work? From someone who sees her dad take morphine and other pain killers daily to not much avail, how much pain could a baby take when he would have so many fractures and struggle to breathe on his own? I could not put my son through that. Right now, he can't feel a thing, he is unaware of any fractures."

"Unless they tell me a miracle tomorrow which I cling to every minute, I really don't know. I'm not having a go, I know people offer their words out of kindness and support, but I really can't imagine the pain it would cause my little boy and to us seeing him suffer in such a way.

I'm not entirely sure of what everything entails just yet, we can make a more informed decision tomorrow. In the mean time I again thank you all for your support, wishes and prayers. It means a huge amount knowing you are all with us in thought. "


 
"I'm sorry to post and that it may upset some....please don't read if you upset easily. This is the only place I have written down my emotions at the time of than happening and want to be able to come back and go over these at a later date.

I've just woke up 5:30am from a nightmare. They took my baby (a girl in my dream for some reason) after I'd decided to end the pregnancy
and told me actually she would have been fine. This has once again crushed me. I know dreams are dreams and they play on what's going on in your life, but I feel like it's set me back.

I broke the news to my mam yesterday as she's been on holiday and of course didn't want to tell her something like this over the phone when she was in a different country. She is of course heartbroken, but as supportive as ever. It helps to see how strong my mam has to he for me, and I have to be the same for my baby
. I felt completely devoid of emotion yesterday. Not particularly sad, but just nothing...my brains coping mechanism kicking in I think.

My partner (Paul) saw some of his family and friends
too yesterday, he went alone and I think this was good for him. I also let him read through this thread to show him the support being offered and I think he was quite overwhelmed.

Today is going to be difficult. I can't even imagine. But we're strong, we will eventually get through this as difficult as it will always be.

We both send our thank yous for your continued support."


The day my world began to crumble.....

As to be expected, I was so excited for my forthcoming 20 week "gender" scan, not only because it meant I was half way there to meeting my little baby, but to find out if we were having a girl or boy? pink or blue? ballerina or footballer? Our wedding was creeping up fast (3 weeks after this scan) where we had planned a balloon explosion with pink or blue balloons announcing the gender of little  one. I had visions of me in my white dress being twirled by my new husband under a veil of confetti and balloons, everyone gasping and cheering when they found out which "team" we were on. Little did I know this is all it would ever be, a vision, and now a completely irrelevant one.

Let me just note... As you know this was my first pregnancy, any information given to me with regards to what a 20 week ANOMALY scan entailed was given to me in not much detail at my first midwife appointment 14 weeks prior to actually having it. I did not know how in depth the scan would be with regards to measurements etc, I merely thought, as many first time expectant mothers do I've come to realise, that they would check the heart (which I knew was grand having used my Doppler) make sure everything looked normal ,tell me the sex and that's it. Off on our merry way. Don't they say ignorance is bliss? I really wish I'd been a bit more informed before we went into that room.....

Sitting waiting for the scan, for what reason I will never know, I turned to my partner and said I was scared. Completely out of the blue. I was feeling fine, no problems...like I said was blissfully unaware what was going on...I can't explain why I said it. Lying on the bed, bubs was found quickly once again, sleeping away all cosied up, we even got a little yawn. Heart beat, brain, all organs were looking good but the little tinker was in an awkward position to take other measurements and wasn't budging. So after some gentle persuasion, a little jostle and me wriggling around a bit he eventually moved and the lady continued with her measurements.

This was it. The moment I will never forget. She seemed to take a long time with the measurements, but again I was unaware what to expect so it could have been normal for all I knew? Then she turned to me and said "There's a problem with the babies limbs"....I didn't understand, I asked what she meant. She explained that the femurs were measuring 3-4 weeks behind the rest of his body and we needed to see a consultant straight away. She asked if at this stage we wanted to know the gender...I knew I did and she said "It looks like a boy". My instincts had been right all along. She left the room to speak with him and I broke down. My OH was comforting me and all I could think of was "no, she's got it wrong" He was in a funny position, she couldn't take the measurements properly. He's fine, I'm fine.

A consultant took us to another room where I sat in a haze of what's happening? He went on to explain that Harry (we had chosen this name from the beginning of the pregnancy) wasn't developing as he should be. All 4 limbs were affected, the long bones in his legs and arms were measuring too short. He said his initial diagnosis would be Achondroplasia, or dwarfism as most people would know it as, but that we would be referred up to specialists at the RVI in Newcastle in foetal medicine for a second opinion.

I left in a daze. How could this be happening? They must have it wrong....We'll go for a second opinion and he'll be in a better position and everything will be fine. At the time both mine and my OH's mam's were out the country on holiday which was also difficult. In the confusion we left the hospital without any scan pictures...but luckily the midwife we saw was lovely and offered to bring some copies to our home for us. Staring at the picture it was hard to believe anything was wrong, he looked perfect to me and so cute. My heart melted every time I looked at it (and still does...)



I googled for hours, what was Achondroplasia? Is it something he could live with? Of course I found a lot of information, and started to relax after the initial shock and came around to the thought that of course he will be fine! How many people are living perfectly happy lives with this condition? He'll be a little shorter than most people, but so what? He's my son and I'll love him and support him with everything I have!

How I wish this had been the case. Nothing could prepare me for what the next few days held for us.....

Morning sickness, narcolepsy, scans and a trip to A&E

By 7 weeks, all the pregnancy symptoms under the sun decided to pay me a visit all at once. Nausea (the worst!), exhaustion to the point where I was falling asleep at my desk pretty much everyday (my colleagues were threatening to make a poking device out of rulers to keep me awake!), bloated (or the start of a bump as I liked to call it), constipation followed by a bout of the runs (TMI...), acne, sore boobs....I had them all. I'm not going to lie, it was uncomfortable to say the least...I didn't have cravings as such, but the only thing I could stomach was bland food, mostly microwaveable mashed potatoes. I moaned, I complained, I cried. My work buddies got sick of me saying I was sick. My friends listened to my grumbles and offered womanly advice. My family (jokingly) told me this is what happens when you have sex. My partner bore the brunt of my mood swings. It was not pretty.

I honestly thought this was the worst, I wallowed in self pity. Don't get me wrong, I was hugely grateful I was pregnant and knew this would be part of the process, I was still excited and knew how lucky I was, I just don't handle feeling like crap very well. I also now think if I knew what was going to happen back then I wouldn't have complained at all. I would embrace all the horrid symptoms and deal with them if it meant Harry was here and well.

At 9 weeks on a Thursday I had a slight bleed...very slight...but it was enough to put me into a panic and rush myself to A&E. It felt like forever sitting in the waiting room, I was nervous, I knew there was a possibility there was a problem but somehow knew in my heart that bubs was fine in there. Better to be safe though? I was checked over, everything looked fine "down there", BP was good, bleeding had stopped, blood tests later came back fine. I was given an appointment for an early scan in any case for 4 days later just in case and open access to the gynae ward. As it happens, I also had another slight bleed on the (very hot!) Saturday and whisked myself away to hospital again to be checked. It was explained to me about miscarriages and how it could be a likely option, which obviously upset me, but I still knew little one was ok. Mother's instinct. I put it down to stress and doing too much (we had a strenuous day at dancing doing a parade in the boiling sunshine) so put my feet up and rested until my scan.

Monday came, and although I knew this scan was to check baby was ok I was still excited to see him in there. At the clinic it turned out I knew the sonographer and she helped to put me at ease, I was amazed how quickly she found bubs and as soon as I saw that little jelly bean with little stubs for arms and legs I fell in love. It was amazing. The heartbeat was strong and he was bouncing around upside down like an acrobat. I also knew instantly that he was a boy. Again...a mothers instinct I'm sure. He measured 9 weeks and 3 days, which put us back by 1 week than we originally thought, but it didn't matter. He was fine and active.



With us having our early scan it wasn't too long for us to wait for our 12 week scan. This came just 4 short weeks later and I couldn't believe how much he had grown! The spine was so clear and his arms were flailing about, his legs tucked up under his bum, he even looked like he was giving us a little smile. Everything again looked perfectly fine, he was growing well (along with my tummy!) I was so happy.



I invested in a Doppler to check in on bubs now and then, I loved it. It helped me to bond with my baby and no matter how crappy a day I was having, the galloping sound of his heartbeat always cheered me up.




My symptoms slowly started to disappear.....my bloat was blooming into a lovely bump.....I was happily content and blissfully unaware of what the future held for me and my OH, my family and friends and our precious little Harry.

In the beginning....

It is taking me a lot of courage to start this blog. It is a way for me to capture the short time I had with my only child....my baby boy Harry James. This has been an emotional journey, both happy and sad, and it has changed me, I'm still me....but a new version. This blog, I hope, will be part of my healing process (Will I ever be healed?!), for me to write down my thoughts, hopes, fears and generally what has happened in my life these past 7 weeks so I can re-read them at a later date. Yes, it has been a sad time, unbelievably sad, but (and I know in my heart this won't happen...) I get so afraid sometimes that I will forget all the details and I never want that. I want to remember every little detail of my pregnancy, the 20 week scan, the diagnosis, the appointments, the emotions, the decisions, giving birth to my angel, the short time we got to spend with him, the tests, the chapel of rest, saying goodbye.... If you wish to read, please feel free, I have no problems with sharing my story but also please remember that this is for my personal reflection, if at times words seem mixed up or repetitive this is probably how my brain is feeling at the time. If it helps someone going through a similar time, then I'm happy, one thing I have found during all of this is the strength I've found in some amazingly brave women who are also angel mammy's. So here we go....

Firstly, let me just say who I am...My name is Amanda, I am 27 years old and live with my husband (newlywed!) in my own home in South Shields. I work full time for the local authority as well as running my own dance school, which is my passion and hopefully one day soon will turn this into my career. I love children and have wanted to be a mam for years....as long as I can remember....but wanted to wait until I knew I could provide for them and was in a stable relationship. So here I am, homeowner, stable job and budding business, loving partner and supportive family and friends. Natural time to want to start trying for my first baby!

In February this year I decided to stop taking my pill. An exciting and apprehensive time, I knew I was ready but still nervous at the prospect of firstly being pregnant and secondly being a mam! As much as I knew I would be the best mam I could possibly be, it's still a little un-nerving knowing you will be wholly responsible for this little life you are creating. I quickly got into the TTC craziness....OPK's, temping, cutting out alcohol, eating better, taking pregnancy vitamins etc etc. I joined the Baby and Bump forum and spoke to other ladies who were on the TTC train and the next couple of months were a blur of POAS, DTD (Sorry...) and disappointment when the 10th pregnancy test in 2 days still showed negative and no amount of squinting or holding up to the light would change that. Never cross a woman who is determined to get pregnant....we are literally insane.

In May, after what seemed like forever (I know 3 months is actually a tiny amount of time to be trying) I did my, almost daily now, PG test on the 28th.... I stared as the dye made its way up the stick and left what seemed to be an extremely faint line behind. Not really believing it (maybe an evap line?) I showed my OH who outright said he couldn't see a thing, but still the more I looked, the more convinced I was that something was there. The next day I tried again and this time there was absolutely NO mistaking that beautiful pink test line! I was pregnant. I always thought I would jump around screaming and crying with  joy when I got that positive test, but I didn't. I very calmly told my partner he was going to be a dad, and he was equally as calm and composed. I immediately called the dr's to book in with the midwife (I worked out I was around 4-5 weeks) and began imagining my growing tummy and youtubing videos of growing foetuses etc. From that moment, I was a mam.



I was excited to tell family and friends, and they were equally excited hearing the news! Despite this, I was still rather nervous to tell my parents...no idea why as like I explained I was in great circumstances to be having a child and a grown up, I knew what I was doing. I think they were both a little surprised, but extremely happy and excited at the prospect of being grandparents!

The next couple of weeks was spent informing the "need to know" people we were expecting, meeting the midwife at 6 weeks and me looking at anything baby on the internet.....

This was it. The time I've been looking forward to for so long. I was pregnant. I was going to have a baby. I am a mam.