It makes me sad during this time of isolation that my little bubbly outgoing sociable girl often seems lonely desperate for the company of other children. Yes she has me and her dad with her but it isn’t the same as someone a similar age.
When she sees other children going passed our house on their bikes on the way to the park for their exercise or animatedly chatting holding hands she bangs on the window waving to them shouting hello. She wonders why these children are allowed to play together but she cannot join them.
It’s hard to explain to an almost two year old that those children are siblings so they are allowed to play together and visit the park with each other.
She should have a big sister
It makes me so sad because by rights she should have an older sister to play with. A big sister to run around the garden with and who would be able to relate a little more to her, rather than the two adults she finds herself spending 100% of her time with.
Violet would have been able to look at books with her, play on the slide in the garden and they could have sat together to create sculptural masterpieces from play doh. Even just lounged together on their giant unicorn to watch TV.
Don’t get me wrong I grew up with siblings myself so understand all about the arguments but you know what I would like to have to break up those fights and solve the disputes rather than try to cure lone tantrums about wanting to see others.
Until now whenever I’ve gotten upset about her not having her sister here to play with I’ve taken comfort from the fact she has cousins she’s close to that she can grow up with. This current situation that stops her from seeing her cousins and indeed her friends reminds me how alone she really is. I was lucky enough to grow up with a brother and a sister.
Yes we can video call but she’s not overly interested in that. If we show her videos of her friends and cousins she watches them over and over finally tantruming when we stop her watching for the 100th time.
After seeing friends from a distance waving & chatting to them from the end of the driveway or over the fence she then has a tantrum because she’s not allowed to play with them. She’s even gotten her nursery bag taking it to the front door in an attempt to leave to go play with other children.
I fear that when this is all over our vivacious little girl might be a shy and reserved wallflower who has forgotten how to interact with her peers or other children.
A close friend of mine who grew up as an only child once told me she wanted to have more than one child as growing up as she dreamed of having a sibling to play with. She said she used to feel envious watching me with my brother and sister wishing she could have the same. I never really understood what she meant until now.
A new kind of grief
Watching my little girl cry and sob and tantrum because she wants to play with the children going passed our house breaks my heart. Even more so that by rights she should have at least a big sister with her right now and actually she is the youngest of three.
It breaks my heart it really does. It also reminds me of the difficult conversations that are coming in the future when she wants to know why she’s an only child and what happened to her older sister and brother.
I recently came across someone else on instagram who is going through a very similar thing with their daughter and the isolation situation so I thought it was important to share this in case it might help even more out there to know they aren’t alone in this.
Always Violet Skies
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Yesterday I was in hospital with my daughter and they tried to take blood from her 5 times and failed. It was horrendous having to hold her still while they inflicted pain onto her. Fortunately for her and me it was for some tests as an outpatient rather than them trying to get IV lines into her as a hospital admission.
If you have been through this with your child you will know how distressing it is. Even more so if you have been through it with a child for weeks to have them then die at the end. This experience brought back many harrowing memories of my daughter Violet for me and has made me want to write this article and I hope you will take a few minutes to read it here goes…
It is not about you
There seems to be some people still frequenting public places and still having social gatherings. Those who aren’t practicing social distancing with an “it won’t happen to me. I’m low risk anyway” attitude.
I implore you to share the hell out of this article and ask people to do one thing and read this to the end.
4 years ago
Nearly 4 years ago if you had have asked me if my daughter would die from pneumonia I’d have said “what no chance they have medicines and hospitals to prevent that”. But guess what? She died and the hospital nor us could save her. Think about that for a moment.
A disease the hospital knew all about; one that’s been around for hundreds and hundreds of years. One of the best children’s hospitals in the UK couldn’t save the life of a toddler. Think about that.
Now I don’t tell you this for pity or for you to feel sad please read on.
Everything and anything
If you had told me or my husband that to save her we’d need to sign away our houses. We would have done just that. If you had have asked us to give away all our belongings and sign away any future earnings then we’d have done that too. We would have literally given everything and done anything to save her our beloved daughter. I know the rest of my family and close friends would have also. Think about that for a second.
I still remember the nightmare day she died and I still have nightmares and visions of it 3.5 years later. Again I don’t want you to feel sad or pity for me, just to keep reading and thinking.
As my daughter was taking her last breaths and the doctors were fighting to try to save her. Four of my family members including myself were in that very room. I remember we were begging at this point. Yes we were begging and pleading with her to muster the strength to fight. We were pleading with the doctors to save her. We were pleading with whatever higher power there might have been to save her, even if it meant trading our own lives instead. Think about that for a minute.
We would have traded our lives all four of them for her one fragile beautiful little soul.
So that’s it folks that’s what I wanted you to read not for pity. For the realisation that all you have to do to save someone’s child (everyone is someone’s child) is for you to stay away from others. You keep your distance and stay inside your homes in order to save a child. That’s it. You don’t have to give your life for theirs just stay home or at a distance and wash your hands.
Yes I know some of us have lost our livelihoods and money so I don’t want to belittle that but remember what I said that we’d have happily given absolutely everything, including our own lives, to save our daughter.
Ask anyone who has lost someone they loved more than anything, whether a child, partner, parent, sibling or friend what they would do or give to get them back. It would be a lot more than simply them staying at home or away from other people.
If it would bring my daughter back hell I’d move there. Yes to hell if she’d be alive again.
We’re not asking you to give everything or do a deal with the devil just stay home and away from others for maybe a few months. That’s it.
Isolation at this time will save lives and whilst you might think you’re ok it’s not about you. It really isn’t about you right now.
Do it for those you love because take it from me hell is going on living when someone you love more than life itself isn’t. It can happen to you too I’m proof of that.
Trade your time for a life. For the life of a child.
Thanks for reading and thinking. Thanks for your time.
So these past few weeks I’ve really struggled to feel anything but confident about my parenting skills. I know from speaking to other parents out there that this is a common feeling to have at times.
Your baby died
You see the struggle for me is when the rational voice in my head tries to change my mood by telling me that I’m a good mum. Another voice reminds me that my first baby died didn’t she and maybe it was because she wasn’t looked after well enough. Perhaps I should have tried harder or done something differently?
Whenever my rainbow baby is ill all these feelings get dredged up from deep down. All these fears and bad memories or nightmares from hell (also known as Manchester Children’s Hospital) as I call them.
If my rainbow baby is diagnosed with a chest infection or heavens forbid pneumonia then even more negative memories and emotions appear as that’s what Violet died from.
When I took our toddler to the GP a last week we saw a different doctor than usual and she looked at the on screen records looking puzzled asking does she have a lung disorder as she’s here a lot to get her chest checked. Our usual doctor insists we bring her to be checked whenever we are remotely concerned but obviously this lady didn’t get the memo. I really think they need to have something that flashes up on screen to say “her sister died of pneumonia” as I then had to explain no she doesn’t have any lung disorder we are aware of and to rationalise why we’re so over cautious bordering on paranoid. When I said her sister died of pneumonia I didn’t even get the usual “I’m sorry to hear about that” instead I think she was a bit embarrassed as I think she initially thought I was just a paranoid over protective mother. She listened to baby’s chest and agreed it sounded crackly so prescribed some antibiotic.
Roll on a few days and baby seemed much better thankfully so we sent her back to nursery. Around lunchtime I got a phone call to say she was breathing rapidly and sucking in below her ribs so really serious for a little one.
I collected her from nursery and we drove straight to hospital A & E, where the triage nurse said she thought we looked familiar. When we explained that our other daughter died in the hospital she immediately said “oh my god you’re Violet’s parents”. It turned out the reason we recognised each other was that 3 years ago she worked on the ward where Violet died and she had looked after her the night before. She welled up and I started crying so it was a great start to a possible hospital admission.
Thankfully because the nurse remembered Violet it was then an easy job for me to insist she asks for the on call respiratory specialist to consult and she obliged immediately paging them for us. Anyway they did an x ray of her lungs and saw she had a possible viral and bacterial infection on them. They gave us more antibiotics and said as long as we monitored her for any further changes then we could take her home.
We were only home for a few hours when we noticed her breathing had gotten rapid again, around double what it should be, so we knew she was getting worse and phoned an ambulance, which is what we’d been instructed to do if she got that bad. The operator explained that the ambulance would take 3 hours to arrive so given our proximity to the hospital we would be better driving her there ourselves.
We arrived back in A & E and were told they would be admitting her for monitoring overnight, as her oxygen levels were erratic. It felt like I was at the gates of hell and having to enter it once again. I explained this to the hubby and he laughed saying “pleased to see you’re not being over dramatic then” lightening the mood as always!
There are no words to describe how it felt being back in that hospital again sitting and sleeping (who are we kidding more lying with one eye open and jumping up every time she coughed!) at the side of my baby’s cot bed. All the memories I had suppressed of my time there with Violet came back along with my scepticism about what we were being told. Luckily this time we had the top respiratory consultants looking at her x ray and examining her too so I felt more confident with what we were told.
I got the best Valentine’s Day present in that we were discharged from the hospital and once again told to monitor her. Fingers crossed she seems much better now but it’s always tough with little ones when they can’t tell you how they feel.
Here’s hoping she recovers quickly and we never have to return to that A & E again. Although I plan once she’s better to take some more books in for the children in A & E as quite a few we looked at reading with her were ripped and damaged.
We’re still exhausted and reeling from the adrenaline here and hoping she’s better soon. I take my hat off to those people, especially a dear friend of mine, who have children with long term illnesses who are often in and out of hospital. It is really tough to have to try to parent while doctors and nurses torture your child trying to make them better.
Someone asked me recently what my plans were for the next 5 years. I laughed and said ideally I still want to be alive and I hope my family are all still alive too. Then I’d like us all to be healthy and happy. That’s about it.
A 5 year plan?
Not sure that was the answer he was after as he said I meant professionally and for your business. Well it’s not much use wanting anything work wise if I’m not here is it was my answer?
Maybe they shouldn’t ask parents of loss who have a heart defect that will hopefully be repaired before Christmas that question?
I used to be a planner
I used to be into forward planning years ahead at least as far as work, holidays and home went but these last few years have taught me that there’s no point putting too much effort into future plans when something could happen unexpected at any time that can change your world in a heartbeat.
Now I try to live in the present
It much better to live in the present as much as you can and also to try not to dwell too much in the past either as there’s nothing that can be done with that now.
Don’t get me wrong I still plan a little because I have to with work or family plans but i only tend to plan a few months ahead at a time.
How about you? Are you a planner?
Always Violet Skies
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These last few weeks have been especially difficult for us as our rainbow baby is sick. We had to take her into hospital where she was diagnosed with pneumonia, which is what her sister died from. Back at home now luckily and she’s responding well to antibiotics but it is unbelievably stressful anyway without our history with her sister.
Lack of control
I realised a key reason for the stress of having a poorly child or loved one or heaven forbid their loss is the lack of control over the situation (unless you’re a murderer of course but that’s a different story!).
The fact you had no control in the end over whether they survived or not. You did everything you could possibly do but even that wasn’t enough and it is the acceptance that at the end of the day we really don’t have control over these things.
When our children are sick, again, it is the control issue that makes us super stressed. We can do everything we can possibly do to look after them. Give them antibiotics, fluid, pain relief, and take them to the doctors or to hospital. Listen to the “experts” and follow their guidance. Other than that there isn’t much more we can do. We are powerless and have to do our best then simply hope.
Regaining control on life
I think that is why after the loss of Violet and then Arthur doing things I have control over helped me to regain a little of my sanity.
Managing a house renovation and extension project was something I could control. Rehabilitating a German Shepherd from being a working dog into a family household pet again I could do and get some comfort from. Setting up a fund in Violet’s memory and organising a charity ball again was something I could control and work at organising. We have now raised a total of £42,860 for Alder Hey Children’s Hospital.
More of a control freak
Yes I admit I am probably more of a control freak in some respects than perhaps other people but after speaking to a few others who have had to endure looking after sick children or unfortunately baby or child loss it is this loss of control that is a tricky one to deal with.
My advice is to try to do other things you can control to try to balance out those things that you simply can’t.
Big hugs and lots of love
Always Violet Skies xx
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From the age we first start school we are conditioned into the fact that September means new beginnings so much so that as adults, even when we have no school age children and are no longer in education ourselves, September can often still seem exciting as we prepare for autumn with new clothes, new stationary and a renewed focus for the future. This has always been the case for me. I loved school even more so a new notebook, accessories and clothes that came with it!
A New Beginning no one wants
September equalled new beginnings. I could always look at this month in a positive way until 3 years ago when that new beginning first came to equal a negative “new beginning” no one wants to ever face. That new beginning was the loss of my daughter and the new beginning that year was trying to carry on with some semblance of life without her in it. No one ever wants that kind of new beginning and this has become my biggest on going challenge to date. It’s tough really tough and never ending. Yes it was nearly 3 years ago but it feels like yesterday one minute and like a scene from a movie about someone else’s life in the next.
Another horrendous September
Then the following September after our annus horribilis we faced another “new beginning” to add to the stress of the one the previous year. This was the loss of a much-wanted son that came out of the blue with shocking news for me accompanying it and so we had to arrange a second child’s funeral in our second stressful September “new beginning”.
Bringing control back
So last September I organised the Violet Ball to take back control of my Septembers and that year’s “new beginning” was a black tie charity event for 200 people to raise funds for Alder Hey children’s hospital. Which as an experienced PR is the kind of event I have organised before but this time with a 6-week-old new born baby in tow event organisation wise that was a first for me!
An exciting New Beginning
This September we decided not to do a charity ball as we agreed we needed a summer to relax and decompress rather than run around finalising an event. I was dreading finding out what this year’s “new beginning” for September would be. But you know what this year’s is actually a positive (hopefully) and challenging one as I got asked to become a part time Associate Lecturer at MMU Business school teaching marketing. New starts and exciting new beginnings that are positive is exactly what I needed and I might treat myself to a new notebook.
Hope your September’s have been successful and less stressful ones too.
Always Violet Skies xxx
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In early September when kids start or go back to school it’s not so much the hundreds of photos of them lined up in front of either a front door or a fireplace that irritates me but more the stupid comment(s) that accompany them. So to save me from adding a passive aggressive and brutally honest blunt comment in reply to some of these posts I decided instead to write this, so hopefully if you care you will read this and think before you write that irritating social media post.
Here are those comments
“I wish he or she would stop growing” errr no you don’t because that would mean they would die and then be dead like my daughter who remains 15 months forever.
“Oh they’re growing too fast” at least they are growing there are lots of parents out there whose babies are sick and not growing fast enough. Be thankful you’re not them and don’t insult these parents by complaining when your child is healthy and thriving.
“Oh I wish they would stay as babies forever” errr no you don’t see my earlier comment above. Would you like it if they died then they would always be a baby?
“I miss when they were little” that’s why taking photos is so important but be thankful you don’t just miss them because they are no longer with you.
“It’s all going too fast.” You know what life tends to go fast when you’re enjoying and/or loving things. Try sitting in a hospital chair next to a sick child and your days seem to drag on and on. Or heavens forbid sit next to their grave. There are lots of parents sat in hospital with their school age child who is too sick to attend school and I can tell you their days just drag on. They would give anything to be doing a school drop off instead and waving goodbye to a child at the school gate rather than in an isolation ward as they nip to the loo.
“I wish time would stop” no you don’t because then you would be dead. Do you want your child or family to grow up without you? Think how extremely lucky you are to be alive now and living in the reality you have. Embrace every second and live in the present not the future because you certainly don’t want to be living in the past or to only be alive in someone else’s past.
Share those photos
So folks if you feel the need to share photos of your little darlings in their school uniforms to celebrate that they are growing, healthy and happy. To thank the universe that they were born to you in a country with free healthcare and education, so they can actually go to school then great share away. But please out of respect to those of us not in as privileged a position as you don’t wish for your children to stop growing, for time to stop or say that you are upset they are going to school. Be happy and be grateful. Appreciate the now and embrace the moment because you are right about one thing it isn’t happening again. Relish the time and moments. Take the photos, make the memories and remember to feel happy not sad. Embrace this exciting new chapter in you and your child’s life – hopefully there will be many more yet to come too.
I know a hell of a lot of people who would love to be buying a new school uniform, waving their child off at the school gate and at the end of the day hearing all about how their first day went. Myself included. This September Violet should have been starting Primary School and that she isn’t hurts us beyond belief. We would do anything to have her here now. We know as a little book worm at 15 months that she would have loved going to school. So if your child is attending school this September be thankful and celebrate it but don’t for a second wish for something different.
Big love, Sarah
Always Violet Skies x
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A fellow blogger recently launched her own hashtag challenge #julyyourway and the first day was entitled “your authentic self”. I realised I no longer knew exactly who I was anymore and decided I needed to write this post in case some of you loss mums or parents are the same.
Who am I?
I don’t actually recognise myself anymore. I can tell you all about the old me in great detail as I spent 39 years with her.
The old me
The old me was strong, determined, unwavering and a great calculated risk taker. Her instincts about people and situations were nearly always right. The type of person you could drop into a room of total strangers and she’d be fine chatting to them making friends pretty quickly. If someone told her she couldn’t do something she’d make it her mission to prove them wrong. One of life’s dreamers believing in positive thinking and that with the right mindset you can achieve anything. Always working towards a vision of the future and undertaking the next challenge. Underneath the confidence she genuinely cared about all those she met, worked with and spent time with. It took me a long time to get to know, appreciate and love the old me.
Where did she go?
What happened you might ask that would fundamentally change your personality permanently well like most new mums four years ago I lost myself a little after the birth of Violet. All new mums will relate to the fact that usually you immediately become more risk adverse as your instincts to protect kick in and your self-confidence takes a knock too as your body shape changes. However most mums will tell you that maybe a year or two later they rediscover themselves again building up that old confidence. Their core self is fundamentally unchanged.
That happened to me too. I was starting to rediscover the old me again in September 2016 then the unthinkable happened.
When you lose a child they say your world changes, life is completely altered and things will never be the same again.
The air is completely knocked out of you but what you don’t realise is with the air goes your personality, as you knew it. All your hopes and dreams, your confidence, trust in yourself and others, All the things you’ve literally spent a lifetime developing, building & honing are wiped away in a moment. All the negative things cling on such as self-doubt, negativity, criticism, depression but the good things…
The old me was confident, fun and had a wicked sense of humour. She was lovely to her core because she genuinely believed there was more love in the world than bad. She truly believed in positivity and only saw the good in people. She believed in what her gut or core instinct told her about people and situations. She actually believed that eventually life will come good and that good things happen to good people. Work hard try your best and believe in others then good things will happen. She always looked for the silver lining in every black cloud. It never failed her until the day her daughter died.
Try a reboot
At first you think these stronger qualities are still there just diminished like they were post-child birth. Just like when you’ve had set backs or heartbreak in the past? Like a hard drive that just needs a reboot. You try to do that to reboot yourself by trying similar things you’ve done in the past to recover like rest, holidays and seeing loved ones. Over and over you try in vain to recover. Eventually you discover that these qualities aren’t dormant any more. They aren’t still there to be rebooted they’ve been completely wiped out. It’s like you’ve had a computer virus in your brain that’s wiped out the useful things leaving only that photo of you from a beach holiday 10 years ago that you didn’t even like and the only email messages that have been retained are spam ones about PPI.
You have a vague memory of the old you but it’s hard to imagine now you were ever that person. I can only explain it by saying that it’s as though I’m viewing an old movie about someone else. I miss her. I’d spent years trying to learn to love myself, to be confident in my own skin. This confident me enabled me to be very good at what I did career wise, especially as I was able to juggle twice as much work as anyone else and easily did 16 hour days regularly. I was a caring considerate person who loved life and loved having fun. I really did work hard play hard and excelled at it.
Now that person is gone. Yes physically I look the same. I still have the same cognitive abilities (sleep deprivation affected maybe but I can still ace an IQ test or two). I even the same memories but I feel as though I’m looking in at someone else. I miss the old me but after over 2 years of trying to get her back I’ve realised that she’s “left the building” never to return. I’ve accepted that I need to build up these qualities in myself from the beginning again, to build the new me.
Still a central core
I’d forgotten how I used to be really strong. There’s a central core of that original strength left that’s hardened up, so much that it takes a lot for me to cry now but every so often a bit of it crumbles. This core is still surrounded by kindness and compassion just not the huge volume I used to have. This has been coloured by grief and the realisation that really bad things can happen to good people. Karma doesn’t exist and positive thinking will only get you so far.
The new me comes with a great deal of darkness the old me didn’t have. This has shaped my sense of humour so it is very dark now. I don’t trust my own gut instincts anymore, as these have been proven wrong twice with the very worst results. I also no longer trust others especially those in the medical profession where I now take what they tell me with a pinch of salt.
Luckily over the last 2 years that I have been hitting reboot I have seen some of my wacky creativity come back and my ability to speak to total strangers on some days now is almost as good as it was. Although I find it extremely hard to tolerate fools and I seem to have become even less diplomatic than before so I can be quite honest and frank now. This is of course a work in progress. Some things like confidence and speaking to strangers just takes practise and stepping out of your comfort zone. That’s at least one good outcome in that I don’t really have a comfort zone rather a numb achy uncomfortable zone.
Version 2.0: Post child loss
Unfortunately unlike computer software I don’t think “version 2.0: after child loss” will be an upgrade on the one before. Hopefully I’ll eventually be able to patch over some of the holes and maybe even rebuild a few of the qualities the old me had that were great. It will take time though as it took 38 years of hard work to develop the old me.
Feel free to check in with me again at age 79 and we can see if the old me has returned just a wrinklier version.
On the positive side it has changed my outlook on life instead of planning for and looking to the future I try to live in the present. To enjoy the here and now making the most of every moment as I understand just how short life is.
Do you ever feel you have changed? Is it for the better or worse?
Sleeping like a baby what an ironic phrase considering most babies I know hardly sleep anyway I thought I’d write a little post about when you move your baby into their own room.
Moving baby into their own room
This is something most new parents worry about and then once they do it most say how much both they and their baby’s sleep improves. This was certainly the case with our first baby Violet. She actually started sleeping through occasionally once she was in her own bedroom away from daddy’s snoring.
Well now as a parent of loss I can tell you this is extremely difficult and no now she’s in her own room I don’t sleep better in fact my sleep is worse.
Number one I’d like to say to those people marketing webcams and tablets as being “just as good as a baby monitor”. They are no good for a parent of loss. The fact they repeatedly pause to reset or reload is a nightmare for a mother who subconsciously listens to her baby breathing through the monitor while she sleeps. When it stops to reload my subconscious triggers me to wake with a jolt. My brain telling me my baby has stopped breathing. This happened 10 times during the first night she spent in her own room. Add into that the three times she actually woke up too then I think I got approximately an hours sleep.
This amazing first night triggered the purchase of a proper baby monitor through amazon via same day delivery so night number two was better. Just a shame baby then had a cold so awoke 6 or 7 times in the night and awoke to start her day at 5am.
Here’s hoping it gets easier as we’re very tired parents but you know I don’t like to complain. I know I’d rather zero sleep than zero baby as I’d give anything to have my first baby Violet back.
My counsellor tells me it’s normal for a mother to be anxious and all mums have anxiety, to some extent. It’s just that most haven’t then experienced the worst scenario ever playing out in front of them. Most mums when someone tells them the odds of something happening to their child are really slim they can rationalise. They can’t then turn round to say well those odds have happened to me in the past. Unfortunately my experiences now compound my natural mummy anxiety especially at night.
How did you get on with moving your baby to their own room? When did you do it?
Love Sarah x
Always Violet Skies
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This week is Maternal Mental Health Awareness week and I have to be honest that I’ve struggled with what exactly to write. Although I am a mother and sometimes have struggled with mental health, I’m not what you would call a “normal” mother but then I guess no one is truly “normal”. So for the last day of Maternal Mental Health Awareness Week here is my story of motherhood.
I have friends who have struggled with post-natal depression. I know friends whose mother’s have had it 40 years ago when it was dismissed as minor and called the “baby blues”. The difficulty I have is that motherhood for me has been a real rollercoaster. The struggle for me is writing about my own experience without seeming to diminish anyone else’s experience of post-natal depression. I have had friends tell me that they feel they can no longer share their tales of depression or worries as they think they seem minor compared to what I have been through. They have said that actually I make them feel worse about themselves because they should be happy when they compare their lives to mine. Well that doesn’t make me feel guilty, bad or worse at all for sharing!
So apologies in advance if my story of Motherhood makes any of you out there feel worse about your own situations. I don’t want to diminish anyone but hope that by sharing my story some of you who feel alone might feel less so.
I have never had a “normal” motherhood experience. I have not known what it is like to go into a baby scan at 20 weeks full of excitement and to come out elated with happy news afterwards. Our first baby Violet was diagnosed with a heart condition at her 20-week scan. Second baby Arthur was diagnosed with a serious brain condition at his 20-week scan resulting in a TFMR at 22 weeks of pregnancy. Third baby Aurora luckily had clear baby scans all the way through pregnancy but we never entered a scan room full of excitement or even left elated afterwards. More we left smiling with relief that we hadn’t yet had any bad news. Those were my three motherhood beginnings already a little different from the majority of mothers out there. You can read more about stress with a rainbow pregnancy here.
When Violet was born we had a natural induced labour as that was deemed the safest for her but she ended up being undiagnosed breach so I had a breach birth naturally with no pain relief. I am still having counselling for that experience alone, never mind the on going medical treatment because of the wounds I sustained. Violet was also transferred to Alder Hey hospital shortly after birth without me and at 4 days old she had open-heart surgery. It had only a 30% chance of success but she survived and the operation was a 100% fix.
It was, at that point, the most stressful time of our lives and we were relieved it was over. We finally took a 2-week-old baby home from hospital with serious health needs. She needed specialist round the clock care, whilst her heart and rib cage healed up. You can read more about Violet here. Despite her start she was a healthy little girl who had mild developmental problems because of her surgery and also issues eating solid food. We found that a challenge and extremely frustrating. However she was extremely clever, musical and a happy little soul considering her start in life. She was a joy to be around and made everyone who met her happy. This summarises my first year of motherhood started off extremely stressful and finished happy.
The loss of Violet
My second year of motherhood wasn’t anywhere near as good as my first! Violet got sick and was admitted to Manchester Children’s Hospital. We sat by her bed for weeks where she finally died, suddenly from a rare form of pneumonia aged 15 months. We had to wait nearly 2 years to find out why she died, as the autopsy was inconclusive. We had to endure a coroners inquest too. You can read more on this here.
First rainbow baby
My third year of motherhood I think was possibly the most challenging as this year we enjoyed a second pregnancy. Until the fateful 20 week scan and then, whilst still grieving the loss of our beloved daughter, we lost our son Arthur too. You can read about it here.
Second rainbow baby
My fourth year of motherhood is still in full swing and I have to say it is by far the best yet as we have our gorgeous rainbow baby Aurora. Named after the goddess of the dawn she has brought light back into our darkness. She certainly does this as she’s a bright, cheerful, smiley little girl.
People looking at our social media feed might be forgiven for thinking our lives are pure happiness now but as anyone who has suffered child loss will know they aren’t. The happy days are still tinged with sadness, as to what should be and what we are missing.
For example the other day I was “subjected” to a conversation by other mothers talking about how lovely it is that their three year olds and their babies play together. They interact now all the time. Well that’s what we should have Violet as a big sister playing with her younger siblings. Instead Aurora will probably grow up alone. Having grown up with a brother and sister that thought alone makes me want to cry. My siblings are still close to me and we remain an important part of each other’s lives.
I still have regular counselling to help me to try to deal with everything as I have horrendous nightmares on a regular basis. Sometimes extreme anxiety and times when I feel sad. I also have PTSD (read more here) caused by my first birth experience, my daughter having open-heart surgery and also from watching her die. I am told all this is “normal” for a grieving parent but it does draw parallels with how other mums say they feel who have post-natal depression. Whilst I don’t know what it is like to have a relatively normal experience of motherhood and still feel depressed, I do understand and have lived through all these feelings on a fairly regular basis.
I feel that lots of health visitors also need more training and guidance for how to deal with mothers who perhaps are slightly more fragile mentally than others. This is in light of a recent experience I had with a health visitor who reduced me from a confident mum of a rainbow baby to a crying anxious mess in the space of one baby weigh in session.
I also feel that more support should also be given to fathers as often they have no support at all, especially after the loss of a child or after they have witnessed a horrendous birth. They can suffer PTSD too.
Sending all mothers (and fathers) out there lots of love as parenthood can be tough whether it is simply sleepless nights. Or sitting by a sick child in a hospital bed or crying at a graveside. At the end of the day everything is relative to your previous experiences too. I thought the toughest thing I had to endure was watching my child sick in hospital that was until they died. Motherhood can be beautiful and wonderful but it can also be extremely cruel.