Ivy would have been 18 months yesterday.

I still think about her every day.

Eddie, my ‘rainbow’ baby, is now 4 months old, and if his weight is anything to go by he’s thriving! I have so much love for him 🙂 His delivery was less than perfect, but at least I had a living baby this time. One of the most memorable moments from his hospital stay was the day of his release, but not because it was a moment full of joy and happiness as I can honestly say it wasn’t. It was a day that, in part, reminded me so much of what I had lost just over a year before. I was required to room in with baby the night before his discharge so stayed in a designated room on the other side of the postnatal ward wing. Whilst waiting for the paperwork to be completed I noticed the room opposite looked oddly familiar.

When you’re in the midst of trauma some details stand out, usually its the odd ones. I can almost hear the student midwife holding my hand telling me not to panic, not all that odd I suppose given the gravity of the situation. The location of the oxygen hookup in an ambulance. The digital clock that timed our journey from Birth Centre to Hospital. Making a ridiculously relaxed comment in the theatre room as they were prepping me for the general anesthetic, because that’s what I do in an emergency. I make casual comments. It’s my coping mechanism I suppose.  It’s laughable really – my daughter was dying and there I was making remarks about the theatre assistant’s glasses!  But back to my point, I can vividly remember the butterflies on the wall of the room where my daughter struggled to take her last breaths.

I’d been across from this room for over a day and hadn’t noticed it. I was carrying Eddie at the time I saw the butterflies so we went in together.  I cried.  Held him a little bit tighter.  Thanked my lucky stars that he was alive.  I cried again because she wasn’t.  I could picture the NICU nurse sat in the corner crying along with us in her last moments. I could remember the hideous pink, scratchy acrylic blankets that she put on Ivy after she had died and how quickly I pulled them off her. I could remember leaving that room in a wheelchair holding my baby and just crying. It’s a horrible memory really, but then a part of me thinks that actually, no, its not as it was time spent with her.

And that’s what life is like after losing a child. At least for me. It’s hideously complex.



Almost 10 months on from Ivy’s death – new additions & 10ks..

Not updated this blog in a while so guess it’s overdue!

Its almost 10 months since Ivy died – can’t believe how fast the time has gone! Since then we’ve added a new cat to our family – DeeDee, an adorable 4 month old kitten who has an incredible amount of attitude with an obsession for pipe cleaners! Poor Dex is constantly jumped on but we catch them rolling around together often so he clearly loves having a play friend (most of the time!).

My son has been allocated his school place for September so that’ll be an exciting transition for us later this year – eeekk

Our family unit seems more on point thanever 🙂 which brings me on to my next update.. I’m pregnant!

We are expecting a baby BOY in October and cannot wait to see his little face.. We had a scan a few days ago and we’ve got a fab picture of him sucking both of his thumbs with his ankles crossed at the bottom.. It’s adorable..

So here’s hoping that all goes well this time!

But not to forget Ivy – my mum & sister are running a 10k race tomorrow in her memory with proceeds going towards the charity ‘Friends of Serenity’. If you can/want to sponsor them please follow the attached link which gives you a little more info.

Thanks Mum & Sis 🙂



On Christmas Day Ivy would have turned 5 months old.

25 has turned out to be a sad number for me. All things 25 should have been joyous when I think about it.

•The 25th of July should have been one of the best days of my life – it was the worst, second only to the day Ivy died.

•The 25th of December should have been a joyous family Christmas – it will be tinged with sadness.

•On the 29th of December I turn 25. The foundation for the rest of my life would have been complete. I love to plan but even the best laid plans can fail.

I need something to immerse myself in & the hunt for a job continues. Another application finished today with a non-profit org with a cause I really want to get behind so hopeful that something comes from that. It’s quite disheartening when you spend hours on an application only to receive a rejection email 😦
I just want to ask them to give me a break because if anybody deserves one it’s me, surely!

This time last year…

The 16th of November was the beginning.

I took a pregnancy test in the evening as my period was 2 days late. By this point we were 10 months into trying so I hadn’t much hope, but there it was! A positive test.
A much different experience from my first pregnancy test in 2010, but oddly enough still nerve racking!

This time last year I was pregnant & began counting down the days to baby! Funny looking back at your life 1 year on.. How things change.

Blast from the past

K – if you read this, it was lovely to catch up with you again & I hope you don’t mind me blogging about this.

I almost never receive twitter notifications, and if I do it’s usually because my mum favourited a tweet of mine haha!
But yesterday a Uni friend got in touch via twitter with news of the recent birth of her little girl, asking if I’d had my baby yet, and expressing a wish to meet up. There was no reason for her to suspect anything had gone wrong with my little one because the last time we spoke my pregnancy was progressing smoothly.
At her 20week scan she’d found out she was expecting a girl, having had a son previously – something we had in common 🙂
Many excited texts were exchanged about plans to meet up in the future with our precious pink bundles and have play dates for our sons – this is where we left the conversation, both going about our lives for the next few months.

There are times when things catch you off guard and I just wasn’t prepared for that email notification. It was a reminder of what should have been but wasn’t. Her reaching out to me was an inevitability given the nature of our last conversation, but painful none the less. But this blog proves useful 🙂 a few minutes after receiving her message, she contacted me again. This time to pass on her condolences having read about Ivy’s birth and death on my blog.

It’s a shame I won’t be able to share those fun play dates, or to have a friend whose family life was to closely mirror my own. Acknowledging these ‘should haves’ is hard, but is part of life after losing a baby.

12 weeks

Today marks 12 weeks since Ivy was born.
It still feels like yesterday when I was taking Theo to the park after having a smear, hoping to get things moving along!

I can’t believe how quickly time seems to have passed. I think it helps now that little man is at nursery – we’ve fallen into a nice routine 🙂

I wonder what she would have looked like at 12 weeks old? Wish I’d have known.