All about May

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The other day I realised that I have spent the last five May’s with one of my baby’s. I have either been pregnant (for 3 of them including my 40th birthday) and the second one I was organising my first baby girl’s first birthday party. This was the first May bank holiday for 3 years that I have been able to have a glass of vino and weirdly enough I am thinking about a second daughter’s first birthday party (this time in July rather than June).

May 2018

Last year in 2018 we were living in the middle of a building site, I was heavily pregnant and we were going through a very hot summer. I spent most of it in the shade with an electric fan and my feet in cold water.

The building site I was living in last May whilst heavily pregnant

May 2017

The year before that, 2017, I was in the very early stages of pregnancy with Arthur and suffered tummy upsets for a fair few months. It was also my 40th birthday so my hubby threw me a bbq party where we disguised appletiser as Prosecco, as we hadn’t announced our news to anyone.  Despite my tummy upsets, we had hope for the future and it ended up being the only May I would spend with my little boy. Our slither of hope was smashed when September rolled around and we had to say goodbye to Arthur (read about it here).

My gorgeous niece and one of my best friends at my birthday BBQ 2017

May 2016

May 2016 was one of my happiest times as Violet was doing well and was nearly a year old. She was about to be a flower girl at my cousins wedding and she’d gotten a princess dress that she loved. We were planning her birthday party that was a joint belated wedding reception too. We made so many very happy memories that summer before the horrendous September came along.  I was lucky enough to spend two May’s with Violet.

Violet at her first birthday party. She loved balloons! www.violet-skies.com
Violet at her first birthday party that was also our belated wedding reception with her friend Abby. She loved balloons! www.violet-skies.com

May 2015

May 2015 I remember being heavily pregnant with Violet having so much hope for the future. Despite getting negative news about Violet’s heart we were convinced we were in the right specialist hands and thinking positively we told ourselves everything would be ok. Violet survived in 2015, and that was the main thing, all thanks to Alder hey children’s hospital.  I remember it rained a lot in May but then we had hot weather as soon as I went into hospital in the June typical!

Not about Theresa May

Anyway I just wanted to write an article that wasn’t about the other May and one that highlights how vastly different one year can be from another. I would like for those of you struggling to get pregnant or to get a rainbow or just to cope with grief to recognise how different one year can be from the last.  I hope it gives some strength and encourages people to remember happier times too.  Keep your face always toward the sunshine and the shadows will fall behind you.

Violet's always bloom in May so pretty these are in our back garden
Violet’s always bloom in May so pretty these are in our back garden

Not all May’s are bad.

Big love

Sarah x

Always Violet Skies

You might be interested in these blog posts too –

When you get your rainbow what then?

Mothering after loss

Making over Motherhood

Party girl…

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At this time of the year my sleep (when I get any as my rainbow isn’t sleeping well and yes I get the irony given her name Aurora!) is peppered with a variety of different dreams all following the same subject.

Dream parties

It is always planning and arranging a birthday party. This year it’s one for a 4 year old as Violet would have turned four this June.

Violet’s 1st & only birthday – she loved it!

So far I’ve dreamt about lots of party themes including flower fairy tea party, puppy and kitten party, sleepover pamper party, Disney strictly dancing party, trolls theme, unicorn sparkles…

I think Violet would have loved Unicorns!

The dreams are all enjoyable in the main as I usually wake when the party is all set up ready before any guests arrive but I become upset when I actually wake realising that Violet isn’t here and I dreamt the whole thing.

Nightmares

Occasionally the dreams turn into a nightmare like last night when her little friends all started arriving with presents and balloons excited for the party to come. They were all asking where Violet the birthday girl was and we searched and searched shouting but she was nowhere to be seen. All her friends broke down crying and screaming then I woke up.

When I finally fell back to sleep again I started to organise a pool party in a hired swimming pool and so my dream party cycle began again.

Birthday balloons

Party girl to the core

I am a party girl at heart after all.  I guess it’s a way my PR brain tries to be proactive in processing things and it could be worse I could keep writing the same press release over and over!  

If anyone needs a kids party planning and arranging then just let me know, especially if it’s for a four year old as I can literally do one for you in my sleep! Violet would have had the best parties and I can assure you so will her sister.

Last year planning the Violet ball helped to halt these dreams, so I may have to start up plans for the Violet ball 2020, anyone fancy coming?

Love

Sarah x

Always Violet Skies 

Here are some other blog posts you might find interesting –

When you get your rainbow what then?

Mothering after loss

Making over Motherhood

Grief is like being Ship wrecked

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This time of year we find a little tricky because this is the week our baby Arthur was due to be born, and although we marked his official first birthday and day he died in September, I still feel a little tug that says we should be having a first birthday party for him in early January.

arthur grave
Our little boy Arthur

Why is grief harder for a TFMR?

Grieving for Arthur I find harder and more complicated than I do for Violet as the situation is much more complex:

  • We never knew Arthur not properly. Yes I felt him move and kick inside me (a lot) but we never got to met him alive.
  • We were the ones who decided to end his life prematurely based on medical facts and delivered him early sleeping. The hardest decision we’ve ever made.
  • The bittersweet this is that if we hadn’t decided to lose Arthur when we did then we wouldn’t have had Aurora and she wouldn’t be here today. So that is hard to swallow – how can you feel sad about someone who led to the creation of someone else?

Thank you Arthur

Anyway I saw my counselor this week and she said we should thank Arthur for giving us Aurora so tonight we will toast our little boy.  She also passed me a really lovely article that was taken from a guy called GSnow’s Reddit account.  Some of the original isn’t really relevant to child loss so I have edited it somewhat and also added some of my own words but you can read the full piece he wrote here.

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The Bay of Kotor

Grief is like being Ship wrecked

“As for grief, you’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating for me luckily it was my husband and we clung to each other. Some of my family and friends also floated nearby providing sustenance for us to carry on. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

At the start

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, seeing another young family similar to yours on the street, the sound of a baby crying. It can be just about anything…and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.

Eventually…

Somewhere down the line, and it’s different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or a family gathering. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you’ll come out. Occasionally the wave can come from no where and totally overwhelm you but again you rise up, gasp and breathe again.

The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come. And you’ll survive them too.”

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Sunset over Auckland

Dianne Oxberry

I started to write and plan this article before I read the sad news today about local BBC newsreader Dianne Oxberry who sadly passed away.  I have lots of friends who were her friends and everyone who met her spoke fondly of her, so this article is dedicated to her friends and family.  May you ride the storm of grief and find some lovely memories from the beautiful ship to cling to.  If you know those close to her please help them to stay afloat.  Do this through kindness and compassion.

Big love and hugs,

Sarah x

Always Violet Skies

You might enjoy these blog posts –

More of a mother – does a natural birth make you more of a mother?

Somewhere after the rainbow – what happens if you lose your rainbow?

Mothering after loss

Guilt when a mother of loss

What a difference a year makes?

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Today is the official birthday of our baby boy Arthur George who was born sleeping at 22 weeks of pregnancy.  Legally he doesn’t exist as he has no birth certificate or death certificate as he didn’t draw breath.  If he had he would technically have been alive.

TFMR

He was a termination for medical reasons known as TMR and it was the hardest decision myself and my husband have ever had to make (read more about it in this earlier post). We knew it was the right one to make as he wouldn’t have survived to full term passing anyway around 30 weeks so we felt it was the kindest decision.  We still wondered and worried as to whether we were right.

Already grieving

We were still grieving the loss of Violet and then felt as though we were burying our last little bit of hope when we said goodbye to her brother.  We entered a period of darkness even darker than we could imagine. The little flicker of hope we had extinguish completely when we were informed there was a 50/50 chance of future seriously ill babies like Arthur.  A few months later we got the surprise news of another pregnancy.  A pregnancy fraught with worry, stress and anguish as we wondered if once again the light we thought we could see at the end of the dark tunnel was in fact yet another high speed train set to derail us once again.

Aurora

Now exactly a year to the day we held and said goodbye to our little son I’m holding another 5 week old little daughter, Aurora.

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Aurora at 3 weeks old.

We named her Aurora as it means “Goddess of the Dawn” and “Light”.  We thought this was beautiful and had special resonance for us as we now can start to see daylight again through the fog.

Arthur

Happy birthday to our little rainbow Arthur George who taught us to dream and hope again after the loss of our first precious daughter Violet.

He also made us more determined to change more babies lives by raising more money for Violet’s cardiac surgery fund at Alder Hey Hospital. We set a date for the Violet Ball at the end of this month, 29th September at Radisson Edwardian hotel in Manchester you can get more information here.  There are tickets still available and we are looking for raffle prizes too so if you can help please get in touch.

Love and thanks

Sarah xx

Always Violet Skies

You might be interested in these blog posts –

Somewhere after the rainbow

What happens when you get your rainbow

Mothering after loss

More of a mother? 

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For years I have heard close friends and family talk about how they feel like fraudulent mummies because they had caesarean sections instead of natural births.

Birthing pressure

Other friends have spoken about the pressure to have done natural child birth, without pain relief. It’s as though the more natural, painful and traumatic your experience the bigger your entitlement to a “super mummy” badge.

Super mother

Bullsh*t

I felt I needed to write this blog post about the pure bullshit (yes that’s the language I’m choosing to use) of this whole belief system.  I’m someone who became a mother as a result of the most painful natural birth, I’ve delivered a sleeping baby early naturally and I’ve also had an elective Caesarean section too.  I can say from experience that all of these make me equally a mother. Each of these experiences posed their own challenges, unique type of pain and suffering (both during and afterwards, both emotional and physical pain).

My Natural Birth

My “natural” birth was undiagnosed breach during which I had no pain relief and both myself and my daughter nearly died. Now this experience, to some women I’ve spoken to at various baby groups, is lauded as making me a “super woman”. Three years ago in the baby class tales of who had had the worst birth experience meant I usually “won” that one hands down.

I remember one woman at a baby group proudly stating she also had a breach birth naturally and when offered a C-section, instead opted for a no pain relief natural experience. She said she was proud she’d done it. What utter nonsense? As someone who has experienced it and without pain relief, I can hand on heart say I really wish I hadn’t have been through it at all.

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Baby Aurora a few hours old last week

A woman’s choice

Yes it is important for women to be able to have a choice in the birth process and for them to be able to have a say in their experience but at the end of the day the priority must always be the health of mother and her baby or babies. Whatever is best for the patients should be what happens. For women to then wear their “experience” as a badge of honour, that they can use to bash other mums with (as if new mums don’t already have enough to feel guilty about!) is I think total and complete bollocks.

I’ve had people say to me, that they wish they’d have had the birth experience I had, instead of the C-section they actually did have. As someone whose physical wounds and emotional ones still haven’t healed from my original birth trauma. I’ve had to say “ermmm no you really don’t want to have experienced what I did”.

Caesarean Section

So why is a C-section seen as the easy option or the cheats way? As someone who has now also experienced a Caesarean section with my latest pregnancy (actually last week!) I can say it’s certainly not the super easy and pain free alternative that it is lauded as.   Those women I was in hospital with who had natural births are already out and about with their babies in slings. Pushing them in prams and lifting car seats into their cars to take baby for a drive. 

I can’t do any of that yet because of the wound that still needs to heal across my tummy and I’m limited to what I can lift, stretch to reach and physically do.  I’m also on strong painkillers for the pain following the major operation, as that is what a Caesarean section is, a major operation!  Natural childbirth might be more painful at the time of birth but post birth C-section pain and discomfort wins hands down unless you of course have complications such as tears, prolapse, piles, etc.

Tales of war

Women at baby groups talk about their natural birth experiences in the same way we probably chatted about hunting trips and warfare as cave people. The stories seem to become more elaborate and embellished as they are repeated with some women seeming to get pleasure from reliving all the horrendous little details wanting to out shock or out gore the person before.  There seems to be an element of competition about the whole thing trying to see who has had the worst experience.

Why aren’t scars celebrated?

If women talk about their experiences with such great delight then why aren’t the genuine battle scars, including C-section scars, stretch marks & saggy boobs also celebrated by society and why are women made to feel bad about them? Should they not be championed as battle scars and showcased alongside the tales of woe?

Too posh to push?

Why are some women also made to feel bad for having C-sections by men too? Some men when I was pregnant and they heard I was having a planned c section actually joked “too posh to push hey?” With even women giving each other a hard time over childbirth what hope do we have for men to then react appropriately?

Do you feel bad about your childbirth experience?  Have others made you feel guilty about it?  Have you decided to change things with any future children?

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Tiny hands

Can we just celebrate motherhood?

I feel we have a long way to go when discussing childbirth but it is about time we simply celebrate motherhood no matter how our babies arrived into the world and we should celebrate all types of motherhood too, including those whose babies don’t quite go or arrive as planned.   It’s important to talk about child loss too and alternative experiences.

Love

Sarah

Always Violet Skies x

Violet’s third birthday

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Last week was a hard week for us as it was our daughter’s third birthday. Along with the happy memories we also had memories of her difficult birth, where both of us nearly died, and the memory of her having heart surgery too.

Violet at Alder Hey
When she was at Alder Hey in intensive care, when we couldn’t hold her she held our fingers & later on in her life she took comfort from holding hands.

First 10 days in hospitals

This time three years ago she spent her first 10 days in various NICU wards, at St Mary’s hospital first before she was transferred to Alder Hey hospital. In Liverpool she had open-heart surgery at just 4 days old. 

We had to sign a million legal forms and contracts saying we knew the odds were stacked against her.  That we knew she might not survive and return alive from the operating theatre.   And that if she did there was a chance of brain damage; disabilities and the heart problem might not be “fixed”.  We also knew her chance of survival without the operation was nil. She was only alive because of the additional hormones and support she was being given.

Off for heart surgery at 4 days old

I still remember the day she went off to the operating theatre that morning was only the second time I had actually held my daughter in the four days since her birth. The first time being the day after she was born just before she left St Mary’s Hospital in an ambulance for Alder Hey, with her daddy in a taxi in hot pursuit. We didn’t want her to be alone without at least one of us.  I had to remain in St Mary’s because of all the injuries I sustained during labour and as soon as I could I was discharged to head over to Liverpool.

Me & Violet at Alder Hey
The second time I held her just before her heart operation

We told her about exciting plans

The days before her operation and the hours before it we spent time talking to her about what we were going to do together once she was out of the hospital.  We chatted about all the different people she would meet, describing friends and family members to her in detail.  We spoke about all the places we would take her to including New Zealand to see her Uncle Tom. Cyprus to see her Aunty Mel and Bali for mummy & daddy’s honeymoon.  We chatted about her Grandma and Nanna.  Said she would learn to swim. 

We basically described to her then the life she ended up having crammed into a 15-month period.  I wish I had have mentioned university and her own children to her then perhaps she’d have stayed around for longer!

Me & Violet in Cyprus
Violet in Cyprus in April 2016

The journey to operating theatre

When they took her down to the operating theatre I couldn’t watch. I knew I would end up screaming and it would distress Violet, so instead I collapsed onto the floor of the nearby family room sobbing.  Her brave daddy on the other hand walked her down to the operating theatre. Talking calming to her the whole time reassuring her. Reminding her how much she was loved. How strong she was and that she could do this.

Violet & daddy in Alder Hey
The bond between father & daughter was strong from day one

Then we waited for an eternity

Then commenced the longest 8 hours of our life as we hung around the hospital waiting for a phone call. We finally received it saying she was out and still alive! We were so relieved but our hearts sank when we returned to the NICU ward to be told that the specialist team wanted to speak to us before we saw her.  We thought oh no this is where we get told something bad has happened. We were told the opposite that the surgeon thought it was an 100% success. He felt she wouldn’t need any other operations on that part of her heart again ever. 

You know what we discovered he was 100% right too, as her post mortem showed his operation was a permanent fix.   This is the reason we are fundraising in her name for Alder Hey. So superstar surgeons can continue to work their magic on baby’s that are told they only have a slim chance of survival.

Now it feels like a story

Last week these memories all felt like it was someone else’s story, as though it was a different life and it played in my mind like a feature length film.

Thoughts of ordinary things

The thing I found hardest was the realization that ordinarily I would have spent the weekend before her birthday preparing for it. Buying her gifts, cards and organizing a birthday party for her.  Then the night before I’d have been putting an excited little girl to bed and wrapping her presents to set up for the morning.

Violet opening birthday presents
Here she’s opening first birthday presents & getting excited about bows!

Party and gift planning

This year instead of planning her party the weekend before I focused on doing some planning for the Violet Ball to be held in her memory on 29thSeptember to raise money for Alder Hey to thank them for saving her life at 4 days old. 

Instead of wrapping her presents the night before her birthday we decided to make up little “Random act of kindness” parcels containing little packets of sweets, including Parma Violets. Then on her birthday we distributed them all around the area where we live.  Including taking some to her nursery. Leaving some on the benches near the playgrounds in the local parks where she loved the swings. We left some near the mural on Beech Road that has a violet coloured balloon in her memory. Some near to where she attended Babel Baby classes. We placed some on benches in the cemetery close to her grave, after we took her birthday balloons.

The challenge now will be deciding what we do next year for her fourth birthday? Please let us know your ideas as all will be considered.

Thanks for reading

Love

Sarah

Always Violet Skies xx