Finding the smallest of miracles

I wanted to write something today because, well..... because I haven't in so long. Not writing is not the same as not thinking about everything though. I think about Isla every moment of every day still but I think about her in different ways.

~ Sometimes it's pure grief. Tears build up in my eyes as I think about her beautiful little face and how tiny she was. So perfect, yet gone. I miss her so much and am distraught that I don't get to see her grow up and become an amazing woman.

~ Sometimes it's happiness... that I got pregnant with Isla in the first place and that I got to see her and hold her. I feel such happiness still when I get to talk about her in any way with anyone, in exactly the same way a 'normal' mum would feel joy talking about her child.

~ Sometimes it's reminiscing - whether it's reminiscing about parts of the pregnancy, before I was a changed woman, or reminiscing about parts of the days and moments from when we found out we'd lost her, from the moment the consultant reached for my hand and said 'Im so sorry' to the incredibly traumatic labour, funeral and my time of grieving.

On this note, I've been going to ante-natal classes and it's all first time mums there. When asked if I'm a first time mum in such places, I say something along the lines of 'Kind of' and let them make their own mind up - will they leave it at that or ask more? At 31 weeks pregnant, all kinds of people, mostly strangers, ask me if it's my first and I vary between saying 'Kind of' to saying quite blatantly 'Hmm, no, I had a daughter last year who was stillborn' to giving a long pause before saying 'Yes'. In such circumstances that pause allows me a second to think of Isla and mentally apologise to her for dismissing her as my true first.

People have started talking to me about their labour stories and I think even people that know about Isla, forget that I've done it. Yes, she was tiny, but the labour was horrific enough to know what I'm going to be going through, although hopefully this time it was go a lot more smoothly.

~ Finally, sometimes it's fear. Fear that the same thing is going to happen to this little miracle I have inside me now. Surely God would not take my precious child from me twice? At over 31 weeks, according to most people I know, I'm in the 'safe zone' - I no longer believe in 'safe zones'. I have been deeply immersed in the world of baby loss and although this baby is our 'rainbow miracle', she may well still leave us. I try so hard to be positive and I do believe the positive thoughts now slightly outweigh the negative ones, but it's such a scary road.

 As part of that positivity, I am going to Mothercare tomorrow and buying everything I need! Car seat is my main priority but according to my 'list' I've got about £600 to spend on stocking up for a newborn! Oh dear, don't tell Dan!

And I also had to get rid of the beautiful Fiat 500 - we could only afford to trade it in for a Panda, but it's got 5 doors, fits the pram in the boot and is a nice colour!

Day 15 Capture Your Grief - Wave of Light

I've had an impossibly miserable today. Feeling incredibly sad, desperate and alone. Lit the candle for Isla while literally arguing with Dan, which felt so very, very wrong. So I post today's photo with a heavy, broken heart. I have no more words tonight.

Day 3 - After Loss Self-Portrait

Day 3 of Capture Your Grief and it's After Loss Self-Portrait today. It's hard to choose to be honest, so again I've chosen a main one - the most treasured and personal photo ever taken of me -  and then added some extras that show different aspects of the last almost-3 months of my life.

My beautiful baby girl and I, the night she was born sleeping

Even though it was the saddest moment of my life, I couldn't help but smile when I looked at her. She was so beautiful - just what I'd always wanted! A little bundle of perfection and she was all mine (and Dan's!). She didn't need to see me crying, I wanted her to feel happiness around her not feel tears. Yes, I know she was already gone, but she still needed hugs and joy. How could I not look at her wonderful face and smile through the pain?

I wish I had more photos of me holding her, but the ones I have are perfect nonetheless. Some other self-portraits since this moment are:

Family portrait

In France, after getting out of hospital but before Isla's funeral - smiling through the pain but usually breaking down shortly after

 Bought a new car on a whim - this colour/make but a brand new one! How tiny and impractical could I go?!

Me and my daughter in her beautiful resting place

With my Aching Arms bear at the Angel of the North

At a friend's wedding just this weekend

Day 2 - Capture your Grief - Before Loss Self-Portrait

Day 2 of Capture your Grief and it's time to dig out a Before Loss Self-Portrait. Now, I really don't have many, other than bump shots from when I was pregnant. I've put any I do have at the bottom of this post. The one I have submitted into the project is this one:

This was taken 2 days before we found out we had lost our miracle baby. I have no proper shots of me plus head as I was obsessed with chronicling my amazing growing body. I'm glad I can't see my face cos I don't think I'd recognise myself. A naive face, so utterly happy and excited that in 3 short months our very much wanted baby girl would arrive. Isla was born sleeping at exactly 26 weeks. I am jealous of the person in this picture as I can never be her again.

Other shots of me during pregnancy:

 14-15 weeks or so

 

About 15 weeks with my brother

Here's looking at you, God

So a question for my Christian friends and folk: Really? Is there really a God? A God who doesn't answer prayers. A God who has a grand plan that involves killing my beautiful baby girl? Seriously? A God who lets all this happen in the last 2-3 years:

2010 - Find out Dad has brain cancer (grade 4 blastoglioma)  in January. Spend a year having quality time as a family and cherishing each moment with our wonderful, 53 year old dad. 

2011 - Dad dies 14.1.11, funeral 24.1.11
Little brother (24 years old) finds a lump in his throat in March
Brother has half his thyroid removed in August. They do a biopsy and find follicular thyroid cancer. 
Has the rest of his thyroid removed in September.
Sister has a miscarriage at 10 weeks in November. All very nasty and 'lasts' 4 weeks with lots of hospital visits and a final operation.

2012 - looking good so far - was it just 2011 that was going to be officially known as 'The Year of Sh!t' from now on? Maybe 2012 would be 'our year' - a different year!
Started with sister's wedding in January

Find out I'm pregnant on Valentines Day - following 4 long years of trying to conceive with both male and female infertility factors and then 3 rounds of failed ICSI/IVF, we had given up - officially! Then our little miracle girl happened!

Brother gets the 'all clear' in February
For a whole 5 months from then, I was the happiest I have ever been in my life, truly believing that our one good egg and one good sperm was going to bring us a little bundle of joy in October. 

At the start of 2012 our whole family finally felt our prayers were not only being heard, but being listened to. We could try to put 2011, 'The Year of Sh!t' behind us and move on into 2012 a whole lot happier.

But no.

So, from a Christian point of view, I'd kind of accepted that dad dying had brought our family closer together so had 1 good aspect I guess. That's really digging deep for something, I tell you, but I moved on with it and, after a year, felt I had accepted what had happened to him, then my brother, then my sister.

And then we lost Isla. Now as a Christian, you're supposed to believe that God has this grand plan for you. That he knows the path I will walk in life and that he looks after me the whole way. Apparently he won't let me suffer and will carry me through the bad times. Apparently he listens to my prayers and answers every one. Really? REALLY?

If the God that I believe in can honestly take away my beautiful, precious little girl because it's part of a grand plan he has for me, then quite frankly I want none of it. I would rather believe there was no God at all than one that could be so cruel. 

So, Christian friends - can you answer me, in all honesty - WHY?

Panic...lost...pain...tears...confusion...hurt...failure...love

I don't know how I'm feeling at the moment but this week has been a funny one. I've been up with mum and step-dad in Newcastle. I've had fun, eaten lots and remembered Isla tons. Some points to note from this week include:

• I had a 'heated debate' with my sister this week which I found hard work and very draining. It's consumed too many of my thoughts recently so I am hoping to move on from it now. 

• Am able to talk openly to my mum about Isla which is really good. She lost her grand-daughter and has been hurting too so it's someone else feeling similar pain to me. 

• Was missing Dan a great deal this week - he was working in Oxford. It was so lovely when he came up on Friday and met us at the house in Yorkshire. It highlighted how needy I feel at the moment. So insecure in myself and how much I lack confidence. 

• I wrote on a forum I've been on for a long time (an infertility treatment one) that I hated my body because it killed Isla. That is very much true. I literally, physically punch myself in the stomach sometimes because it is empty when it should be very much full. I didn't manage to do the job I was commissioned to do - protect, grow and nurture my baby girl. What a failure have I been. These thoughts haunt me. 

• It struck me this week that the thought of lying to my midwife that there was an actual case of Parvovirus in my school had crossed my mind at 16 weeks. But at the time, I "couldn't be bothered". What a terrifying realisation, that if I had been bothered to go through fortnightly tests and scans, they would have picked up on my non-immunity and then kept monitoring me, thereby picking up on the hydrops and she would still be here. I would most probably still have my baby girl. 

• I have started having a very physical reaction to thinking about all things Isla and pregnancy. Speaking to mum has made me realise I think it's a sort of panic attack. I feel a wash of nausea, lack of breath and faintness coming over me when I think about Isla, when I think about the happiness of being pregnant finally and when I think about a future without my precious girl. It's something I think I will need to keep an eye on and maybe go to the doctors about. 

• Related to the above, I have started looking into counselling at the Plymouth Pregnancy Crisis Centre. I know they do a course for those facing pregnancy loss called 'The Journey' and I will look into that when I get back to Plymouth.

On a different note, we have found a house we think we'd love to rent so are keeping our fingers tightly crossed that it doesn't 'go' by Wednesday when we're booked to view it. We're not exactly feeling like the universe is 'with us' at the moment, so aren't getting our hopes up too high, but here's hoping!

Guardian article...

The Guardian newspaper had an article today about Stillbirth. Having had a hard day with lots of tears myself, it's good to read something that reminds me I'm not alone in how I'm feeling. 

Click: 

Also good today, cos I'm in Newcastle with my mum and step-dad for the week which is great! Just what I need. And then Dan is coming up on Friday for a weekend in Yorkshire!

The Angel of the North - another angel, except I can see this one.

Fireworks.... for Isla!

So the fireworks championships were in Plymouth this week. I went tonight (day 2 of competition). It was blowing a real hooly and apparently the competitors had to change their displays so much that they weren't even being judged, it was just for the show. The first display was good, the second one was amazing and the final one seemed to stop short - in fact, I'm pretty sure they had some problems half way through!

Anyway, through the whole thing I just thought about Isla - and, of course, how last time I was on the Hoe I was pregnant. 

But I thought about how beautiful the fireworks were and how beautiful Isla was. 
How they made me smile and so did she. 
How they lit up the world like she did.
How they were lighting up Heaven, as is she. 
How they looked like stars in the sky, where Isla is. 

Display 1:

   

  

Display 2:

This bit was amazing - it filled the sky and they all fell beautifully to Earth...

This one with the 'weeping willows' was just stunning and really made me gasp!

Heading for his finale:

No photos of Display 3 as it was over so quickly but here's a video of the very end of  Display 2!

Just stunning and boy did it get a cheer from the crowd! 

(And a big whoa! from me!)

It's my birthday but I don't care...

I'm not big on birthdays anyway usually. I don't go all out and am not bothered about the actual age I am. But today I am 32. 

I should be 30+4 weeks pregnant. I need to be pregnant - with Isla. Why aren't I? Why is life unfair?

Isla was born sleeping exactly 1 month ago. 

I liked that she was born on Friday 13th at the time because it was somehow related to me - I've always had 13 as my favourite number as it is my birthday and certainly never believed in the Friday 13th bad luck myth. I still don't think it was Friday 13th that took her (duh!) - in fact, she died on Weds 11th. 

But it's still so raw - the following days are blacklisted for me at the moment:

~ All Fridays
~ All Wednesdays
~ Any 13th dates
~ October 18th (due date)
~ July 30th - Funeral

I'm sure the pain of those days will get easier but am I going to enjoy today? I'll try but the pain is unbearable at the moment. 

I was given a bible quote last night about not grieving without hope. I have hope - in dribs and drabs - but need more!

Aching arms

Today I received a wonderful gift - and on my birthday too! It's an Aching Arms teddy bear. 

A wonderful charity (here) send them out to mums and dads who have lost a baby. 

Mine is sent in memory of Baby Hodkin with love. I think I may have to start buying teddies and get involved with this charity as receiving this bear today has really warmed my heart!

Isla's beautiful resting place

Yesterday was my first full day back from France and I spent most of the day in my dressing gown browsing loss websites and blogs. But then I needed to take Fudge out for a walk and needed to go and 'see' my baby girl.

It was such a beautiful day and the burial ground actually took my breath away - it was so stunning up there! And the tiny size of her grave also took my breath away. You can tell just by looking at it that it's a very tiny person that is buried there. 

I had written a little card for her and tied it to the tree with some pink ribbon bows too. 

What a lovely spot for a beautiful little girl.