Revisiting places that bring back memories

I go to a toddler group in my town which is held in the church hall. This is the church where we had Hannah's funeral although we don't usually go in the church building. As it was Christmas however we all gathered in the church building for the retelling of the Christmas story. It was (nice) hard being there. Obviously all I wanted to do was cry (I held it in) but it was nice to enjoy a toddler group in the place I was last with Hannah, imagining what it would of been like having Hannah with me and my little monkey Katie (who was stealing the baby Jesus from the manger!)

Now your buried

We buried you on Friday. It was such a tough day. I wish you were here. I wish it so very much. It's hard to accept that your cant control everything.

 

We have new neighbours. They moved in a couple of weeks after you died. They obviously don't know about you. I have chatted to them a couple of times and I guess I could of mentioned you. They innocently asked questions like 'will you have anymore children soon' (maybe but I have already had two and the last one was only born a month ago!), are you working currently (yes but I'm on maternity leave). It's tricky, I don't want them to feel uncomfortable especially as I don't really know them, the other side of me wants to scream 'I have just had a baby, I should be cradling a newborn right now'. 

Miss you my special little girl xxx

It's your funeral tomorrow

We have a house full. Both are parents are here and brother plus wife and sister in law. It's a busy house and will be busier tomorrow. Two more brothers plus family aunts and uncles and some cousins. It's so busy I've forgotten you little Hannah. I didn't know how I should be behaving? Sad and somber, is it wrong to forget about it all. Before everyone arrived I just wanted to cry. It felt too much. And now as I lay in bed I feel I've forgotten what tomorrow will bring. I don't want to be so busy I can't say goodbye. It's seems so surreal, wrong, strange and disconnected to being saying such a phrase. 

Hannah Grace. My beautiful little Gracie. You are precious. You are safe in the arms of our father God. I hope you are enjoying the perfection that is heaven. 

When Esther was born a friend of mine lost one of her twin girls during birth. I imagine you two precious children together in heaven just as your sisters are friends together here on earth. 

Another day of many

Today I got a text from someone I've been getting to know. She has a little girl about the same age as Katie and we were expecting our second babies within days of each other. She had a little girl too. 

It's good she told me as she lives locally so I'm sure I will see her about. I want to tell her to savour every precious second with her little girl. She is very precious. These little miracles should never be taken lightly. I don't think I can go and see her though. Not for a while. I think my own grief will stop me from handling such a situation and I know I have to be kind on myself. There is a pang of sadness on knowing however that her baby is here. Hannah isn't here and that is sad. So sad. There is no better word than sad but then it also doesn't feel sufficient for how I feel. I feel lacking, drained from grief. I want my little Hannah back. 

I have found myself recently thinking about baby number 3. It seems wrong though. Our beautiful Hannah hasn't even been buried yet. I am clear in my mind that baby number 3 won't replace Hannah but I do feel lost without her, I understand the phase 'my arms are aching for baby I have lost'. I know we will need to think carefully about it though when we are ready and be wary of our motivates and purpose. I also know I will be heavy with worry though the entire pregnancy if it did happen. I don't want to write off nearly a year of Katie's life waiting for baby number 3. 

A scan picture of our healthy little girl Hannah just days before she died. 

Preparing for your funeral

It will never seem right to be to be having to organise a funeral for our little girl. To say its emotional doesn't quite fit. It's being hard and Rich and I have defiantly struggled to remain patient with one another. The strange thing is I'm scared. Not of the funeral, that will be painfully sad i know. I'm scared of the day we will have nothing left to do for our daughter. It's almost been strangely reassuring having things to focus on and do 'for' Hannah. Although we can no long care for her on this earth it feels like we are doing something. After Friday there will be nothing but memories of our beautiful girl. 

I wish I could hold you one last time. I wish we never had to let you go. 

We dropped off some clothes for you at the funeral home. You were only in the next room and I just wanted you in my arms. I know you are now in the Lords hands and if yo can't be here with me it's gives me peace to know God has you though still terribly painful. 

I love you my beautiful girl xxx 

A letter to our beautiful girl

(A letter we have written for your funeral)

This is a letter for you Hannah Grace. Our anticipates and loved daughter who we grieve for not being able to get know. We wonder what you would of been like and how you would of shaped our family. How patient would of your big sister been and how you would of asserted yourself? We know you would of made your presence know even as a newborn through sleepless nights and the precious midnight cuddles we anticipated. 

I feel privileged to have held you for 9 months, you were with me everyday of your life. I felt your body as it grew and prepared to be part of our family. Your life was a miracle and a blessing to us. We will forever be changed without you. You were perfectly formed when you were born and so beautiful, we will miss you.

Today is the day we were expecting you to arrive into this world but instead this is a step towards saying goodbye to you. We know you were always only 'on loan' even though it wasn't long before you were called home. We entrust you to our God and we know he has made a perfect plan for you. You may never of seen your mummy and daddy but we believe you've seen Jesus. 

Our beautiful Hannah Grace. We wish we could of spent a lifetime with you. We will miss you so much. Your precious life has gone ahead of us to our eternal home. Rest in the of peace of our creator our much loved little girl

We love you with all our heart 

Mummy and Daddy xxx 

Making memories

Clay hand and foot prints

Hand and foot casting 

Silver keepsake jewellery 

Cross stitch samplers

Personalised pillows

Christmas decorations

Picture frames

Writing a letter to our little girl

Keeping the clothes and blanket we put her in at the hospital

Having two identical teddies. One to stay with our little girl and one for us.

Having a personalised blanket for her to be wrapped in.

Writing this blog 

This isn't super clear but it is an old scramble board. On it I have written all of our names;

Mine, my husbands, Katie's, and Hannah's

I love this item as it shows all our family interlinked 

The first few days at home without our little girl

We arrived home at 12.30am in the early hours of Sunday morning. I would recommend leaving hospital at that time to anyone who wants to be as inconspicuous as possible when leaving a hospital. You don't have to compose yourself for strangers, you can cry all the way to the car and you won't bump into the neighbours when you get home. Also anyone who has stayed in hospital will know it takes a long time to be discharged from hospital. We asked to leave at 8pm on the Saturday and 12 was when we had all the paperwork sorted to leave. It would be hard if we had asked to leave at 8am on the Sunday but not got home for another 4 half hours. 

On the Sunday morning we were the lucky ones. We got to see our bright smiling little girl Katie. We had missed her so much. She was after all part of our future and a healthy way to focus our energy. 

You can't he but think about how Hannah would of impacted our life. How she would of shaped our family if we had brought her home that Sunday morning. How Katie would of reacted to having a new little sister and having to share my attention.

The waiting game

On the morning of Tuesday 4th November we went in to hospital again to have a scan to confirm what I only dreamed was wrong but that we knew was true. I knew however it wouldnt be till I met my little girl that I would truly believe that Hannah had left this earth. 

I was given a relaxant drug and told to return to the hospital on Thursday 6th to be induced. Unlike a normal labour the doctors aren't worried about the baby so they give you everything they can to make the birth as easy as possible. Basically making this drug endured process as natural as possible.

Things happen very slowly in hospital. We went in for just after 9am for a scan and were then taken up to the labour ward to the 'special case' room where they took many blood samples and swabs as well as giving me the relaxant pill. We then left the ward at 2.30pm. We were very keen to get back to our daughter who was being looked after by a friend. She was our future and although Hannah was still currently part of our present she was soon to become our past. A treasured memory;our second daughter that we would only ever know as a baby. 

Wednesday 5th November was the 'middle day', nothing was going to happen that day, we knew that. We were just waiting in sadness for the time we would say goodbye to our precious Hannah. We didn't know how long we would be in hospital to waiting for the induction to work but we knew we would be away from Katie for a few days at least. We had arranged for my mum to come down on the Wednesday night to look after her. On Wednesday therefore we decided to go to the Sealife centre as a treat for Katie and a distraction for myself. I spent a long time getting dressed that morning, choosing an outfit that made me look fat and not pregnant. I was pretty much 36 weeks pregnant so that was a challenge. I also tried to be aloof as possible so that no well meaning stranger would try and talk to me about my pregnancy and soon to be born baby. Whether is was the grace of God or luck i dont know but thankfully no one asked me about my baby bump. We were shattered by the time we got home having walked miles around Birmingham and around the Sealife centre. It was good to be so busy though. We would have been at a loss just waiting at home. 

At 8am on the morning of Thursday 6th November we (my husband and I) went into hospital. The induction process wasn't quick. After 5 hormone induction drugs I was told on the Saturday that they couldn't give me any more hormone drugs for 48hours as it was too dangerous for me. I had been having a few regular but mild contraction on the Friday but they had disappeared pretty much by the Saturday morning. Thankfully however they had had an effect, however mild t contraction were and at 10.30am my waters were broken and Hannah Grace arrived at 14.58 

I can only thank God for a very straight forward and in labour terms easy birth. 

Just after 3pm we met little Hannah. She was your normal, perfect newborn but, was no longer there. She was a good size too 6lbs2oz. She was going to be big if she had be born at 40 weeks. 

We spent some time in our room with Hannah. We held her and loved her giving her all the cuddles we knew we wouldn't be able to give her. She was in Gods hands now and we missed her. 

My husband and I then had to the hardest thing. We had to leave our beautiful baby girl. I said goodbye to Hannah. I truly don't know how I ever left the hospital, it was only with Gods strength I could leave that room. 

Tuesday 4th November

I have decided to start this blog in memory of little girl Hannah Grace who was born just before the 37th week of pregnancy. I had a healthy pregnancy. At 34 weeks I had a scan as the midwife thought she was breach. I'm sure she properly was but she did a summersault on the way to the hospital (I nearly had to pull over she moved so much). The scan showed she was head down. Everything was going well. They check her over looking at her heart and placenta etc and everything was good. She was a little big but within the 95th percentile. I was expecting a big baby however. My husbands and his siblings were all 10 pounds plus.
When I was 35+4 weeks I woke in the night. I had had a busy Monday and had been sick after dinner so had gone to bed early (sickness was pretty common with me and pregnancy). It was 2am in the early hours of Tuesday however when I woke suddenly and realised I hadn't felt my little girl move all day. I had been very busy so wouldn't have noticed if she had. I had however had lots of random tummy pains all day. I had had them before in the pregnancy but they hadn't lingered all day like they had that busy Monday. I spent 90 minute trying to get my little girl to move that Tuesday morning and eventually rang the labour ward. On the way to the hospital to have babies heart beat monitored I decided it was far better to look foolish and waste the midwifes time then to sit a home ignoring the lack of movement and there be an issue. I seriously just thought I was being silly however. I arrived at the labour ward around 4am feeling a little foolish. I said to the midwife I was properly being a paranoid mother and was sorry for wasting there time. The midwife was lovely and said they never think that but I did get a slight sense from her of 'here comes another one worrying about nothing'. Well I lay down in the room and the midwife got the foetal heart rate monitor and placed it on my tummy. She felt around my tummy from one corner a another. I wasn't sure if this was normal but I tired not to let it worry me. I'm sure it was. After a little bit she asked the trainee midwife with her to go an get the doctor, again I tried hard not to worry. I'm sure this was normal. I never really imagine at this stage anything would be wrong. My very worst thought was that I would be rushed in for an emergency section. I always had a strong sense our little girl would come early. While waiting for the doctor the midwife continued to check for a heart beat. At one point she found a faint heart beat, it was all ok. I responded with 'that sounds good' (still believing baby was fine and that maybe she wasn't very good at finding foetal heart beats). The doctor eventually arrived with a mobile ultra sound scanner. He scaned baby and I can't remember his exact words but it was something like 'the pregnancy has expired'. I wasn't 100% clear what the meant, the midwife clarified that our little girl was gone, she had no heartbeat. He said it would be confirmed tomorrow with another scan but that he was pretty baby had gone. Gone. Goodness I couldn't believe it. I knew that babies could die so late but that was due to a condition. A genetic condition, growth issue, preeclampsia, a growth defect that would of been picked up in the scans or if during the birth there were complication. For me however I had none of those thing. I was healthy, my baby was healthy. There was no reason for Our baby's heart to stop beating. My husband had stayed at home with our 19month old daughter. It had seemed silly to wake her up and anyway Rich had to be up for work the next day. I thought I'd just go in for 2 hours to be monitored and be sent home in time for Rich to go to work. I rang Rich. Understandably very upset. It took a long time for him to arrive. He had dressed Esther before leaving. Before Rich arrived I was taken to another room. A very unclinical room, obviously used for 'cases' like ours. It had a double bed in it, TV, coffee machine and ensuite. The doctor came in. It was funny he didn't speak to me. He spoke to Richard, about me, in the third person. Very odd. Upon reflection I wonder how many conversations like this he had had and if in fact he just felt a little nervous? I did say to Rich however I would speak to him if he blanked me again! We were told we would have another scan to confirm that our little one was now gone but at this stage he was pretty sure she was. They left us in the room. We named our little girl Hannah Grace. Hannah had now left us and it felt only right to give her identity as although she would never breathe on this earth she had very much been alive. To say goodbye to someone you need to know who they are. Giving her her name was us saying hello, we love you, you are precious, we will miss you our beautiful Hannah Grace.