Sunday, 5 June 2011
This Time Last Year
23:59 | Posted by
Caz |
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A year ago tomorrow, on the 6th June, our nightmare was beginning. We didn't know it yet; it still hadn't occurred to us our daughter would die, but the 6th marks the day it all started to go wrong for us and Anabelle.
It was a Sunday and we were due to go to a 1st birthday party. Anabelle had been quiet, I wasn't sure I'd really felt her move much since Friday and I was starting to get a bit concerned. I didn't feel at all sure of myself; I'd been feeling what I thought was Braxton Hicks and had put the quietness down to the running out of room. Not being pregnant before I relied on the baby books for the information and 31 weeks meant running out of room for lots of movement and expecting to feel Braxton Hicks. But we were beginning to feel anxious we phoned the hospital for reassurance and asked to go in to be checked over.
We assumed we'd be up there an hour; the baby books say babies start moving around again as soon as the Dr's try to monitor them on a trace. So we let people know we'd be late for the party but expected to get there a bit later. Only we never arrived and missed the party completely.
I was put on a trace and yes, Anabelle did the moving thing the baby books said she'd do, but almost immediately the trace identified the "Braxton Hicks" were actually more like early contractions/tightenings and worse that Belle's heart rate was dipping with each one and dipping spontaneously in between.
Never in a million years did we expect to go up to the hospital for monitoring to be told I was threatening premature labour and that Anabelle would be delivered by c-section if they couldn't stabilise her heart rate and stop the tightenings.
Everyone was springing into action. I was put on a permanent trace and a Doctor was checking my cervix was still closed and ordering drugs to stop the tightenings and steroid injections to help Anabelle's lungs and breathing if the other drugs didn't work, ordering catheters and other 'prepping me for theatre bits' incase the other drugs didn't work.
It was incredibly frightening and we were terrified our beautiful girl was going to be born too early, worried for her development and how it could affect her future if she was born 9 weeks early. A neo-natal doctor was called down to delivery to talk us through what would happen to Anabelle if I was taken into theatre sometime that day or over the coming days.
Thankfully (I think? I'm tortured by the what ifs of the whole situation) the drugs worked and the tightenings started to settle down and space further out, Anabelle's heart rate stopped dipping. The fear of theatre was now on hold and after 8 hours on delivery thinking our daughter was going to born we were transferred to maternity ward for a nights rest; more monitoring and treatment, two days on maternity ward before being allowed home. Scanned and discharged they were confident Anabelle was absolutely ok.
We went home and rushed about preparing things for Anabelle, fully expecting that a 40 week delivery seemed unlikely now. Every extra week was going to be a bonus. Little did we know we only had one week left with our daughter alive at all. We made a cast of my bump, we had those precious bump photographs taken, Anabelle's room was painted, I washed all of her clothes ready for her, Jon started building her furniture.
I cannot help but think how things could've been different. We're promised the threatened premature labour is in no way related to her death seven days later, that it was just a horrible co-incidence in timing. Would she be here if she'd been born on the 6th June? Would she have been safer in a special baby care unit than she evidently was inside me?
How will we ever know... I have to trust that the hospital did what was best for us with the information they had at the time; they had no reason to think Belle would die and neither did we.
What decision do we make if we find ourselves in the threatened premature labour again? We thought we'd done our best by Anabelle but she died. I know, at 31 weeks she would've had a good chance of being strong and surviving. I know she equally could've died in a SBCU but would the doctors had more chance of saving her there? If Bow tries an early escape what do we do? I'm not sure I could cope with even a sniff of history repeating itself in that way (or any way); even if I'm told the premature labour wasn't related to her death, I cannot help but think now it was a warning sign. Something was wrong, she wasn't happy, she was trying to let us know and maybe we made the wrong decision for her.
I don't trust myself in this pregnancy, not at all. I'm not sure I can make the right decision for my baby, or notice the things I'm supposed to be noticing. I'm doubting myself all of the time. There is such a long way to go.
Last year on the 6th our pregnancy was rocked with the unexpected. The start of our list of painful "this time last years" is marked with tomorrow being a special day - this year on the 6th June we're being introduced to Bow as a little boy or girl. By tomorrow evening I hope to be able to tell you all if we're having a blue or pink baby and introduce Anabelle's little brother or sister by name.
Friday, 3 June 2011
June
10:35 | Posted by
Caz |
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There are 18 days left until Anabelle's 1st birthday.
How is it June again already? 12 months gone by, a whole year. It's too fast. I'm not ready for it to be a year. Life feels heavy at the moment; the weight of the world on my shoulders, juggling far too many balls. Of course I knew June was going to be difficult but here we are and I'm wondering if I've bitten off far more than I can chew.
I'm beginning to re-live the "this time last years" when our nightmare began. The onset of a threatened premature labour, a hospital stay, a discharge and then after thinking we'd succeeded in keeping her safe for the time being and out of special baby care, she died a week later.
Maybe the start of June is contributing to the pressure and fear of this pregnancy. This time last year I ended up on the sick and then on maternity leave far earlier than I ever imagined. After all it is this time last year it all ended for us with Anabelle. Or maybe it was this time last year that everything started for us with Anabelle; I suppose it depends which side of the coin you're looking at.
I don't think I'm quite all there at the moment, I can't pull my head together properly. A big part of me would love to start curling up away from the world, see as few people as possible and hibernate until November. Not that it is possible; trying to meet my teaching responsibilities and the start of the second busiest half term in an academic year, my angel Mummy responsibilities and pulling off a successful fundraising day for Anabelle, my pregnant Mummy responsibilities and just somehow keeping Bow alive (although realising that this one is completely out of my control)... lots of hospital appointments and remembering everything else that has to happen this month too.
Maybe I should've just concentrated on getting through June instead of having all these plans to contend with on top of all the first anniversaries and Anabelle's 1st birthday.
Thursday, 2 June 2011
Pregnancy Stress
19:34 | Posted by
Caz |
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Be warned, this post is going to be a "too much information" blog. Don't read if you don't talk about "women's things."
The last few weeks have been tough. Emotionally I'm struggling to cope with this pregnancy. Every time I think I have a handle on it and my confidence improves; I then find myself terrified again and unraveling fast. Our anxiety levels are currently through the roof.
In the last few weeks I've now had 3 episodes of spotting, the latest 'episode' turning into a week of stress- sometimes brown, sometimes red. These added 'complications' are putting an enormous strain on our emotional health during already one of the scariest times of our lives . Each time I've had a loss I've been scanned; and Bow has been fine. The build up each time to another scan is intense, fearing we're about to hear those words again replaced with an overwhelming relief that for now our second little one is still there and still growing. As lovely as it is to see Bow each time, I wish it wasn't because of something scary.
The spotting hasn't been anything that dramatic may I add, well not in the sense of actual loss, its not gushing out of me by any stretch of the imagination, but you can imagine that even the smallest evidence of blood on toilet paper is enough to send Jon and I into panic stations. Despite knowing that lots of women bleed in pregnancy and still bring home babies, knowing sometimes there is no explanation and despite knowing that blood doesn't equate to it all going wrong; knowing how pregnancy can be for other people doesn't make this any easier for us.
One of our babies are already dead - it isn't unreasonable to 'expect' it to happen to our other baby.
My first extra scan suggested the very edge of the placenta had had a small bleed, but there was nothing to worry about - Bow was as happy and active as he/she had been in my dating scan. My second extra scan showed nothing of concern but a water infection was detected; I was treated with a course of antibiotics. Both of these bleeds were just over one day before they stopped again.
Since Friday night I've spotted on and off each day. Again, sometimes red, sometimes brown. It isn't constant, but it is sometimes there at some point each day when I go to the toilet. Today is Thursday and there is still evidence of red. It is this particular bleed that has highlighted a monumental NHS failing in my particular hospital. Obviously I cannot speak for every hospital in the UK.
It wasn't until Sunday that I decided to ring in to Obs&Gynae ward. The ward I'm attached to is only open Monday - Friday for day cases and I didn't want to contact the other ward, who didn't automatically know me or our history, unnecessarily. I reasoned that we'd had two episodes of spotting before and all was fine; and as Friday and Saturday were 'only' brown I tried not to panic and would see how it went. Sunday brown turned to red and I knew it was time to phone the hospital and went in to be checked over. No water infection this time and cervix was closed tight - these were good signs that all was well with Bow. But what I needed was another scan; and this is where the NHS failed us.
Being Sunday meant that no one qualified was available to scan me; no sonographers on duty, no consultant available, the registrar currently on duty not qualified to scan. Instead, despite our history of baby death we had to wait until Tuesday for a much needed scan while the spotting continued and anxiety levels increased. My fragile state was evident to the Doctor on Sunday, even more so by Tuesday.
The Doctor I saw was very apologetic. Agreed whole-heartedly with us that just because it was Sunday, the weekend, bank-holiday didn't change my medical need. He agreed I was getting half a service as a result of the staffing situation. Medical need is not dictated by day of the week after all. It is incredible really that an obstetric and gynaecology department doesn't have somebody qualified to scan 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year.
Thankfully Tuesday's scan revealed a happy baby but no explanation for the spotting. The Doctor doesn't know what to suggest other than rest as much as possible and possibly put me on absolute rest if the spotting carries on now or keeps reappearing weekly as it has done. All he could offer us was to keep ringing whenever we are anxious.
It isn't really much reassurance for us right now but I accept there is little else they can do but wait and see. They can't stop a bleed if they can't identify the source; I suppose even if they could identify there is still little that can be done unless there are specific circumstances.
This weekend just made me think again on how our pregnancy care could be improved in an attempt to bring down baby death rates. Following on from my post last week (The UK verses Finland) - surely this is one of them - providing a 24 hour care service nationwide, giving scans when needed without delay. Scans are a basic obstetric requirement.
It frightens me that for all they knew Bow was dead but were in no position to ascertain his/her health until Tuesday. Wasting this precious time could be costing babies' lives. I could not help but think of all the "What ifs" during those two days waiting for the scan. What if something could be done, but by Tuesday the 'could be' might've been too late? A multitude of horror stories ran through my mind.
I worried for women even further along in their pregnancies than I am. Anabelle died on a Wednesday; we found out on the Wednesday. What if she had died on a Sunday - would I have had to wait until a working week day to have that urgent emergency scan to determine if she was dead? Are women living in torment over a weekend not knowing if their precious babies are alive? Or was the wait I had to endure simply because I'm in the middle of second trimester no mans land? Where on earth was a qualified consultant on Sunday?
A multitude of horror stories are continuing to run through my mind. I know 'some women bleed all the way through pregnancy with no explanation' - I just wish that woman wasn't me for the last week. This is one of the things we could do without. Would it be too much to ask for a smooth ride and successful pregnancy? As if we didn't have enough to worry about and fear without this on top. I cannot cope with this; the signs of blood are increasing the fear that something terrible is going to happen in this pregnancy too.
Currently we're frightened and frantic and I know this feeling is only going to get worse until by some miracle Bow survives this pregnancy journey and we get to bring him/her home.
Monday, 30 May 2011
Celebrating Mums: Guest Post!
23:27 | Posted by
Caz |
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A few days ago Kate of Celebrating Mums appealed for bloggers involved in charities who wanted their cause to have a shout on her blog to get in touch. I asked if awareness could be raised for Sands and a special mention for Anabelle's fundraising day on her page. Kate responded asking me to write a guest blog about Sands and send it to her.
I sent my post and today it has appeared over at Celebrating Mums! It is really exciting, reaching more people about the realities of stillbirth and continuing to raise awareness for Sands, Anabelle and all other angel babies. Take a look!
http://celebratingmums.wordpress.com/2011/05/30/will-you-help-sands-and-acknowledge-a-special-angel/
A big thank you to Kate for supporting us!
Saturday, 28 May 2011
The UK verses Finland
21:55 | Posted by
Caz |
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In the UK a baby is considered stillborn if born with no signs of life after 24 weeks gestation. In other countries the limit ranges from 20-28 weeks gestation. To allow a comparison the Lancet report studied stillbirths across 193 countries after 28 weeks. In the Lancet report (summary from Sands here) the UK was ranked 33rd, one of the worst in rate amongst the 35 rich nations examined; France and Austria coming behind us. Since Thursday I've been thinking a lot about the stillbirth rate in the UK verses the stillbirth rate in the country identified as the least per 1000 births - that country was Finland. Finland records stillbirths from 22 weeks gestation.
- The UK's officially recorded rate of stillbirth (after 24 weeks) is 5.1 per 1000 births, (after 28 weeks as reported in the Lancet - 3.5 per 1000) or 1 every 200.
- Finland's officially recorded rate of stillbirth (after 22 weeks) is 3.3 per 1000 births, (after 28 weeks as reported in the Lancet - 2 per 1000) or 1 every 330.
For the purpose of this blog I've looked at the national statistic pages for the UK and Finland using figures from 2009.
The UK page (here) records that in 2009 there were 706,248 live births in England and Wales and 3,688 stillbirths. Additionally 1,715 babies died in the seven days after their birth and a further 3,312 babies died before reaching their first birthday. So for the 709,936 babies born during 2009 a total of 8,715 never came home or died during their first 12 months.
During 2009 there were 60,430 live births in Finland and 205 stillbirths were recorded. Additionally 95 babies died in the seven days after their birth and another 282 babies died before reaching their first birthday. So for the 60,635 babies born during 2009 in Finland, a total of 583 never came home or died in their first 12 months. (Finland's stats pages here and here)
My maths ability isn't great, so please forgive me if there is some error; but on my calculations (with some help from Jon!), the comparative percentage difference is:
- Of the total babies born in the UK in 2009; 1.2% died.
- Of the total babies born in Finland in 2009; 0.9% died.
Yes, comparatively argued in the UK, 8,715 of over seven hundred thousand babies is a low mortality rate but Finland's is lower. As I stated Thursday, each of those lost babies (in whatever country figures) represent a devastated family, each of those babies count and matter as much as the babies that lived. The difference compared as a percentage between the UK and Finland isn't huge, granted, but there is a difference; especially as Finland's figure include babies 2 weeks younger in gestation than the UK.
As I said in Thursday's blog, the UK needs to aspire to that 0.9% stillbirth and mortality rate. Or better. I say again, even one baby's death should be considered too many. What are Finland doing differently to us?
I know that there are regional variations in what you can expect from antenatal care around the UK, but based on my experience of antenatal care for a first baby in my area is as follows;
- A booking appointment with community midwife around 8-10 weeks. Fill in the green pregnancy notes.
- Dating scans around 12 weeks and booking bloods taken checking haemoglobin levels, blood group, antibodies, rubella immunity status, hepatitis B status syphillis and HIV status. Sickle cell and Thalassaemia is also checked in women of other ethnic groups.
- A nuchal fold scan is also offered in my area, I've declined in both of my pregnancies.
- 'Triple' blood test offered at 16 weeks to screen for Down's syndrome. Again I've declined this test in both of my pregnancies, but have visited midwife for a general checkup instead.
- Anomaly scan offered around 20 weeks.
- Further routine antenatal visits offered with community midwife at 25, 28, 31, 34, 36, 38, 40 and 41 weeks of pregnancy. During these visits the baby's heartbeat is listened too on a doppler and bump measured to assess baby's growth.
- Further blood tests at 28 weeks are offered to check haemoglobin levels.
It is interesting to also note that in some areas, for a second baby with no complications on your first, less antenatal visits are offered. Because Anabelle died I am having far more antenatal appointments for Bow with my consultant and community midwife than would routinely offered for even a first baby. So far I've had eight appointments, so on average seeing somebody fortnightly. As we progress further into this pregnancy I will see my community midwife weekly, with additional consultant appointments as well. But frequency of my appointment in this specific pregnancy is another topic for another post I think.
From the information regarding antenatal care I can find about Finland's services an expectant mother would meet with her healthcare providers 11-15 times throughout her pregnancy. This is not too dissimilar to UK practice. In Finland it is currently recommended that a scan is offered around 11-12 weeks to date pregnancy and number of babies. Another scan is offered around 20 weeks. Similar blood tests are also offered. (See here)
I hope to be back with further information regarding Finland's pregnancy care a little later, but what astounds me, that if as far as my limited findings on Google can see, is that if similar routine tests and a number of visits being offered in both countries, why is there the discrepancy in stillbirth and infant death rates? Answering that question would take a far more skilled researcher than me, someone with far more time and obviously take into account other innumerable variables. (e.g. environmental conditions, food sourcing, water quality, genetic factors etc. etc. etc.)
I don't know what the answer is or how we can lower the stillbirth and neonatal death rate in the UK. 17 babies a day is heartbreakingly far too many. I hate that my daughter is part of the figures that will be released for 2010, she should be here with me. It would make sense that the finer details and general set up of the Finnish healthcare system were closely compared to ours and steps taken to adopt some of their systems when caring for pregnancy women and unborn babies. Despite the similarities I've so far found on Google they must be doing something better than us. (Finland Health Care History)
Sands funds research (info here) into the causes of stillbirth and improving antenatal care so problems are detected before a baby dies. I don't know what they could change. Maybe additional routine scans in later pregnancy, maybe something else. In our case, an extra scan did nothing to save Anabelle. She was scanned 8 days before she died and no problems were detected, no distress found. Maybe the sonographer missed something, maybe there was nothing to miss - this is something I'll never know, although the question buzzes around in my head constantly.
But for a huge proportion of stillbirths maybe, just maybe, an extra scan in the 3rd trimester could've saved the baby's life. Even on a hope of a 'maybe', I feel this is something that should be worth pursuing. Even one baby's life saved would make it worthwhile.
I hope the recommendations in the Lancet report are pursued and addressing the number of stillbirths made one the UK's national health priorities. Surely in a country where our cot-death rates have been reduced by 70% since the 'Back to Sleep' campaign we can also do the same to reduce our stillbirth and neonatal death rates.
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Thursday, 26 May 2011
Just
22:02 | Posted by
Caz |
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Today in the Daily Mail 'Femail Magazine' suppliment there was a discussion surrounding the push to lower the caesarean section rate in this country, yet asking why lots of female doctors and obstetricians elect for c-sections in their own pregnancies. The article compared the dangers of surgical and natural births, complications and injuries to women that occur during labour that lead to an emergency section and why women in the medical profession often opt for a c-section over natural delivery. Remembering all post surgery complications that can occur - the infection risk and long recovery time among other risks; it is interesting to additionally note that statistics show that a woman is much more likely to die during a vaginal birth and associated complications than a section birth.
It was food for thought considering these are the questions we need to be asking ourselves and our consultant as we begin to plan Bow's delivery.
I am not at all scared to give birth again in regards to me. I've done it once, I'd give it a good go again. Yes it hurt (one of the biggest understatements of my life!) but it was also very empowering. But I am scared about the effect of an induced delivery on Bow. However I am not willing to take the risk of going far beyond 37 weeks as the placenta goes past its peak and starts to deteriorate with each passing day - for my sanity and Bow's safety; he or she needs to be delivered as close to 37 weeks as we can as we reach "term".
My questions surround the length of time induction may take. Remember it took 5 days of treatment and then artificial rupture of membranes to actually get me to labour with Anabelle, if she'd been alive they would never have allowed it to go on that long and I'd have been taken to section much sooner. If Bow's induction does not progress quickly would a section become an emergency situation and our baby in distress? The last thing I want is an emergency birth with Bow, or for them to be in any way distressed.
If the likelihood is induction probably leading to a section I think I would much rather just plan for an elective section so Bow arrives into this world in a calm manner. Although a big part of me really wants to experience labour again the only concern that matters is Bow arriving screaming into this world rather than silently and I will endure anything to make that happen. The method of arrival isn't the most important thing.
These are things I need to discuss with my consultant. I need to ask the question regarding their induction turning into caersarean rate. I may only be 16 weeks pregnant, but I'm already reaching a place where I need to know. After all, unbeknown to me while pregnant with Anabelle, at 16 weeks I'd reached our half way point.
The article was a very interesting read. But then there was this statement:
"The UK is one of the safest places in the world to have a baby. And of the 1,917 babies delivered each day in this county, just 11 will be stillborn." so said Bridget O'Donnell.
My biggest problem with the statement of all? The word "just". My second biggest problem? It does not include the neonatal deaths, the further 6 babies who die in the minutes, hours and days after their birth also.
I assume Bridget O'Donnell has been lucky enough not have been "just" one of the 17.
This statement is another example of the false sense of security we are lulled into in this country. This statement is great if your experience of pregnancy is being one of the 1900 who make it. Of course until you're the minority you give little thought to those who are. But it is an insult to count the other 17 babies who don't go home with their devastated parents as "just" - it implies a huge insignificance to their loss simply because the other 1900 made it.
These figures are not acceptable, they are not good innings. According to the recent Lancet Report our rate of stillbirth and neonatal death places us 33rd in the developed world of places 'safest' to have a baby. So are we really that safe at all? True, being the 33rd country is better than being the 133rd country BUT 33rd is appalling for a developed country with an apparently outstanding healthcare system.
33rd is nowhere near the top 10, it is nowhere near 1st. 33rd is significant room for improvement. 33rd is an absolute need for improvement. I'm going to find out who is 1st - that is what the UK needs to aspire too, or better infact, because even one baby's death a day should be considered far too many.
Every single one of those 17 babies who die each day in this country matter. Remind yourselves again that 17 babies each day is 6500 over a single year; the equivalent to 16 jumbo jets crashing each and every year with NO survivors. Here is an additional thought - our stillbirth rate is ten times the number of cot deaths in the UK. Thought about in that context? That's an awful lot of deaths; reducing stillbirth and neonatal death rates need to be a priority just as cot death figures were in years gone by.
Attitudes need to be changed. How wonderful for all the 1900 families who's children were born on the 21st June 2010 that got to take them home. But we, the other 17, who's babies were born on the 21st June 2010 and didn't come home? We are not "just" anything. Our babies matter as much as the 1900 others who share their birthday.
Every baby's existence, born screaming or silently counts.
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
Morbid
21:36 | Posted by
Caz |
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Its been a good few days. Yesterday I listened to Bow's heartbeat for the first time and prayed hard it will beat for at least they next 70 years. Today I felt Bow's first cluster of little movements while I was eating my breakfast and nearly jumped out of my skin in the staff room at dinner time when a big kick caught me by surprise.
(I have been feeling little 'pop' type movements for the last few weeks which I think has been Bow as it has all felt really similar to when I started to notice Belle, but this morning there was no doubt about it being baby rather than wind!)
(I have been feeling little 'pop' type movements for the last few weeks which I think has been Bow as it has all felt really similar to when I started to notice Belle, but this morning there was no doubt about it being baby rather than wind!)
But Jon and I cannot seem to escape the what we will do if Bow dies too. And I mean we're (well I assume me more than Jon) really thinking about it. I know, its morbid you're thinking.
Together over the weekend we discussed what we would do with the headstone if we needed to add Bow's name to it too. After all a headstone is an expensive investment. You would hope it wouldn't need amending or replacing for many years, we would hope not until we ourselves die and then we'll replace it for a family sized stone; but we have no guarantee's we won't be living a second child's death. So the discussion of the possibility of needing to add our second child to it has come up. We've reasoned that surely if we needed to add to Anabelle's stone with Bow they could cut a quarter inch off the front and re-engrave on a new surface but keep the stone more or less as it is now otherwise. Yes I know, its morbid you're thinking.
On my own I've thought about where Bow would be placed in the grave if he/she were to die too. Reasoning with myself that the grave is big enough for 2 adults and Anabelle, but assuming Jon and I will both be buried on top and they wouldn't dig to the same level as Belle to reveal her coffin and place one of us next to her, rather than on top as it were.
I've thought to myself Bow could be placed next to their sister at the other end of the grave and then Jon and I could still be on top and we could all still be together. I reasoned with myself that if we were told it were not possible to fit 2 adults and 2 babies in our grave that we could still rest Bow with their sister so at least they were together and figure something else out for Jon and I when the time came. Yes I know, its morbid you're thinking.
I've thought to myself Bow could be placed next to their sister at the other end of the grave and then Jon and I could still be on top and we could all still be together. I reasoned with myself that if we were told it were not possible to fit 2 adults and 2 babies in our grave that we could still rest Bow with their sister so at least they were together and figure something else out for Jon and I when the time came. Yes I know, its morbid you're thinking.
On my own I've thought about where we would hold Bow's funeral if they were to die too. Would we plan to use the same church as we held Anabelle's funeral in, or would we now use the church I'm attending? I've thought about funeral flowers and what we would choose for Bow. Something different from their sister and of course would completely depend on whether Bow is a boy or a girl.
I've thought about what hymns we would choose for Bow's funeral. We chose children's hymns for Anabelle because they were appropriate for our daughter's funeral, Would we choose different children's hymns for Bow, would we use some of the same? I've thought about how we could make Bow's funeral unique and special for him or her rather than it being a carbon copy of their sisters.
I've thought about what hymns we would choose for Bow's funeral. We chose children's hymns for Anabelle because they were appropriate for our daughter's funeral, Would we choose different children's hymns for Bow, would we use some of the same? I've thought about how we could make Bow's funeral unique and special for him or her rather than it being a carbon copy of their sisters.
I'm always thinking like this and I know it is morbid.
Yes it is morbid, but we're scared. We've lived our first child's death. We had to make all these decisions for Anabelle with no warning, no expectation that we would ever have to. It is completely within our realms of possibility that Bow will die too before we meet him/her. I doubt thinking and planning a possible funeral now will make it any easier at all if the time came but we cannot help thinking this way.
We've already done this once and dare not believe we'll be earth parents to Bow when we're already angel parents to Anabelle. What if we're only ever angel parents? As well as the "what ifs" there could've been with Anabelle and how different things could've been, we're now living the "what ifs" with Bow.
We've already done this once and dare not believe we'll be earth parents to Bow when we're already angel parents to Anabelle. What if we're only ever angel parents? As well as the "what ifs" there could've been with Anabelle and how different things could've been, we're now living the "what ifs" with Bow.
What if Bow dies too... What if.
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- After Anabelle - Raising Rainbows. I'm Caz, Mummy to beautiful angel Belle and my wonderful rainbow boys, Xander, Zachy and Luc. Wife to Jon. Twitter @cazem Instagram @cazzyem
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