After Anabelle

I realised then that a child who makes it into this world is indeed a miracle and has perhaps performed the greatest feat of his or her lifetime just by growing into a complete human being in nine months and being born without mishap.   Marilyn Hilton. 

So proud, excited and overwhelmed to introduce our beautiful boy; Alexander Jon. 

Born 14th October 2011 at 00:45 and weighing 8lb 13oz. 

Today I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve. Impatient; wanting it to already be Christmas Day today.

I feel unsettled and anxious. It's only 10:20am and I'm really obsessing about Alexander's movements today; scared I suppose that now, in the final hours he'll be taken away from me. Of course he has to survive induction and labour yet too; and then I know I'll worry about SIDS. The initial relief is going to be enormous, but already I'm worrying about the next scenarios of possibilities where he might not survive. Maybe worrying he'll be taken away is going to live with us forever, its a feeling I'm not sure I know how to shift.

This time tomorrow I'll be on the ward, the induction process will be beginning. His journey into the outside world will start. No-one knows how long it will take, but we'll be on our way.  Its all been explained to me, the process is different to what I experienced last time, but I'm hoping everything will be different to what we experienced last time.

Today I suppose I should put together some sort of birth plan; our preferences and what not. I don't really know what to put into it though, when the only thing that matters is "get him out alive".    Drugs, pain relief, intervention are all inconsequential unless our ultimate goal of a screaming baby is not realised. I don't care what happens to me; only him.

I'm not feeling scared of labour this time; I was terrified with Anabelle, it was all being thrown on me eight weeks earlier than we'd mentally prepared ourselves for, we were in shock, our daugther was dead, we didn't know what to expect. But now I'm so ready to do it. I'm not scared because whatever we experience now it cannot be any worse or traumatic than labouring knowing we couldn't keep our baby girl at the end.

I realised last week that our journey to create our family started two years ago.

Not long after we were married and trying for our first baby. The baby that would be Anabelle. November 2009 and her little being and life began, thinking our dreams have been realised but then being shattered and lives broken.  Here we are, almost two years later and about to meet our second child; but still we haven't realised our dream of being a family at home.

We are so close now; so close, yet it still feels so far.

These next few days mean the absolute world to us. We're pinning everything on them for our happy ending for Alexander.  A 'happy' ending that can open a whole new chapter and world to us, but can never erase the pain of living without Anabelle. Even now we're acutely aware we should be, we are, a family of four, but not all at the same time.  Aware that we can never be complete. I think I've still a long way to go until I can deal with that.

Two years is a long time. We've waited with excitement, broken hearts and now fear to have and keep our baby. Are we ready? We should be.

The reality though is we've been so focussed on just getting to the point of bringing him home that neither of us have an absolute clue what to do when he gets here. We haven't really thought beyond what happens when we bring him through our front door.  Now, hopefully, we have to learn how to be earth parents.

I hope that my next post is the happy birth announcement of our newest family member. Our fairytale ending for Alexander.

Our miracle.

... that is all there is to go before I'm re-admitted to hospital; this time to start our induction and meeting our little boy. 

Two weeks ago when I was still in hospital it all seemed so far away, a still unachievable dream. Now, there is five days to go and all I can see is a long list of things I still want to get done before Alexander starts his journey to the outside world! 

Preparing our home for Alexander has been tough. It has been bittersweet; awfully painful, wonderful.  

Everything as always split down the middle in two; experiencing two vast ends of the spectrum of emotion.

Weeks ago I made myself pack away all my baby girls clothes, her world of pink put into boxes and put into our roof, last week I watched as my children's nursery became blue. I hurt as the pink walls were painted over; traces of our daughter's existence being rollered away.  But then, I saw it finished for our boy and its just as beautiful for him as it was for Anabelle. This time all our baby furniture has been built and the nursery transformed into a beautiful baby dwelling, rather than the boxed furniture that has lived in there for so long. We've put all our efforts into making it just right; the nursery having a place for them both.   

Give me a few days for a few more finishing touches and I'll share photographs of his, their, little room. 

I've washed itty-bitty baby clothes again; and this time they've reached designated hospital bags, drawers and wardrobes. They reached beyond the washing line.  I've chosen coming home outfits again and lovingly picked out the sleepsuits and baby-gros I want Alexander to wear first. 

I've been nesting galore; a woman possessed. Absolutely focussed on making sure his home is just perfect for him when he first arrives in it. We are nearly there, the end of my list is almost in sight. Who knew a tiny baby could create so much chaos?! 

So we're actually on the home-stretch now.  Do we feel any less anxious. No. We're still acutely aware that our dreams could be ripped away from us, again, even at the last minute. But we are daring to believe. 

I really never believed I could ever be this pregnant, yet here I am 35+2 and nearly there. Well nearly there for me. I realise he is being born very early in comparison to most babies. I know many people do not agree with or like the idea of inductions and intervention. I've never personally understood the resistance myself, even before we lost Anabelle, but I'm more than thankful that this option is open to us. 

I know that the main reason for our induction next Tuesday is mainly concern for my mental health. 

The medics are confident he is a happy healthy baby inside; there is no reason why he wouldn't remain so for another few weeks. But there was no reason why Anabelle couldn't either, remember she was deemed happy and healthy a week before she died. Everything could change so quickly without warning; and we've gone as far as we mentally can with coping with the constant worry and fear. Of course we're anxious for our boy to born, alive and well, as soon as possible now, and I'm thankful that our consultant completely understands and supports us in this; putting in place the necessary precautions for me, for us and for Xander.  

We're at that point of staying sane vs. going crazy. 

5 sleeps. 

Our baby girl died. Our baby girl has a name. Her name is Anabelle Violet. She was born on 21st June 2010. She was, she is, a much loved and wanted daughter, niece and granddaughter. Our baby was 1 of 17 babies that died that day in the UK. 

This month is October, October is pregnancy and babyloss awareness month. Please help raise awareness by sharing our reality, breaking the taboo, learning about the work that Sands do and by joining in this years "Wave of Light" and lighting a candle on the 15th October. 

Please remember the so many angel babies like Anabelle. 

Seventeen babies will die today
Thirty-four parents filled with despair
But, will anyone even notice
Will anyone even care

One hundred and nineteen babies will be born still this week
Or die within four weeks of birth
Does anyone who's not a grieving parent
Appreciate these babies worth

Countless more will die
Whilst nestling in mother's womb
But they won't quite make 24 weeks
Not important it's assumed

We've asked for media coverage
To highlight this tragedy
Do we feel we've been listened to
Well not if you ask me

We've been met with a wall of silence
A child's death is such a taboo
But would you keep the silence
If this tragedy happened to you

We're asking for a voice
So other's know they're not alone
Not asking for much you may think to yourself
But apparently that's not so

In asking to be heard
We've asked for way too much
Making people feel uncomfortable
Best to stay out of touch

So as a grieving mother
Into a corner I should retreat
Keep my grieving to my self
I should know when I am beat

But NO, we won't just go away
Our babies deserve so much more
We'll keep on fighting for awareness
For this very important cause

And if we make you feel uncomfortable
So be it, we make no apology
Grieving our children isn't wrong
We'll grieve for eternity

So come on world, please back us up
Don't let child loss remain taboo
For one day you may be affected
That grieving parent, could be you!

Author Unknown

Sorry I've been quiet. I've not meant to be so neglectful of the blog but between the daily visits to the hospital and trying to potter about and prepare a little bit for Alexander's impending arrival I've been feeling fairly exhausted.  I'm completely preoccupied with lists of things that need to be done before I'm induced in 11 days! 

Things are plodding along here. Xander has remained a happy boy at every check up. I'm feeling fairly calm for the most part because of the daily reassurance and I've even allowed myself to dare to occasionally believe this is all actually going to turn out ok now. That we will have our happy ending this time. 

The difficulty is every time I allow myself to feel some impending excitement it is quickly joined with feeling guilty. Like somehow being thrilled at the prospect of really being allowed to be Alexander's Mummy,  is a betrayal to my Mummyhood with Anabelle. 

But not just that, I'm feeling quite mixed up at the moment.  All my emotions seem split in two. 

If Anabelle was here we would have achieved many peoples ideal of the 'perfect' family set up. The 2.4 children; the one of each.  In theory I suppose this is what our family is; Mummy, Daddy, Sister, Brother. 

Only its not. Only it is. And neither of us really know how to even begin to explain to Alexander one day how he really does have a sister and she really does exist to Jon and I as part of our family. How do we strike the balance? How will she ever really feel real to him too? Will he ever understand? 

I have a feeling the next few weeks have the potential to be the best in our lives but mixed in with confronting so much more pain. I'm anticipating it, because I'm already beginning to feel it. A little nervous of how I will really truly feel when he is handed to me. Worried to look at him and see Anabelle. Worried I will let him down because I still hurt so much for his sister. So desperate to do all these Mummy things with Alexander but still hurting that I couldn't do them with Anabelle. Wondering if this feeling will ever go away or if the parallels of what is and what should've been will live with me forever as I hope to watch him grow up. 

I absolutely cannot wait to hold our beautiful boy, I'm praying so hard we'll be bringing our baby home this time,  that we'll have our miracle. But all the while I'm hurting that he will physically show us everything that was taken away from us and Anabelle and I won't know how to deal with it. 

Wishing so hard that our 2.4 children was real and that I had them both. 

One year ago today I did my first post. Life. 

By this point in September 2010 I'd reached my breaking point. After 3 months of living in some sort of haze and bubble, the bubble had burst and the reality that our daughter was dead sunk from the surface into every part of me. Everything felt broken, I couldn't imagine putting anything back together again.  Two days previously, on Anabelle's 3 month birthday, I'd walked into a counselling centre and promptly broke down. 

Then I discovered blogger, and this blog has become my salvation ever since. 

After Anabelle started as an outlet. My space to organise the unbearable pain, to figure out my thoughts, put my brain into some sort of order again. A diary to document how our lives would unfold without her. It became a space to share with the world what it means to be a bereaved parents. It became a space to raise awareness of stillbirth, the facts, the figures, to break the taboo of baby death. It became a place where I refused to be silent and very willing to share the deepest and darkest days and thoughts along with happier times too. Because this is our reality. 

Life one year on, although a long way from the constant darkness we were feeling on the day my blog was born, is still fragile. The reality may have sunk from the surface, but you only have to scratch us for it to emerge full force upwards again. 

Today my blog is still all of those things. Its become part of me, who I am and how I cope.  If I could describe my blog in one word now, I would probably choose "honest". 

Honest because I've laid lots of my life out like an open book. Honest because I think I've covered almost every emotion possible over the last 12 months here.  I hope by being honest it has raised awareness of stillbirth and what it really means to be angel parents. I hope for lots of people reading it has encouraged empathy and understanding of bereaved parents they may know.

So time for a review. Blogger has handy tools to help with this. It has a stats page that tells me how many page views I've had, what countries people have 'visited' from, which posts have been the most read.  After Anabelle has had a staggering 45,826 page views, visits from of course the UK then the USA, Australia, Austria, Germany, France, Singapore to name only but a few. 

And my top 5 posts? 

The Caz and Belle Blog - 3rd October 2010, 966 pageviews.  Written following a troll drama on Mumsnet that hugely unsettled the bereaved Mummy board. Barely after my blog had begun and feeling vulnerable I didn't quite know who to trust or what to believe.  It was a horrible online experience I'd not had any direct experience of before and hope I won't again. Now I know that whether there was any truth in the accusation and uproar or not there are no winners when someone shouts 'troll' - only lots of very upset people. 

Fundraising Update - 14th June 2011, 612 pageviews.  All about our planning and preparation in the run up to Anabelle's Angel Day, raising money for Sands. Fundraising had already surpassed the £900 mark (of an original £1000 target) before our events had even taken place.  Fundraising was the way we chose to celebrate Anabelle's 1st birthday, give her shortest of lives a positive focus, her little life having an impact in this world. And impact she did; our beautiful daughter inspired a final figure of £9340.74 of donations. Money that will help support a charity continue to support broken and vulnerable bereaved parents, and help to fund research that will hopefully one day prevent so many babies from dying every day. 

Repeating History  - 17th September 2011, 547 pageviews.  One of my most recent posts. Written from my hospital bed, terrified after threatening prem-labour again with Alexander at almost the same point of pregnancy that I did with Anabelle.  The fear that the next bit of history will also repeat itself. We're currently counting the days down to him surviving the remainder of his pregnancy to a happy outcome on induction day on 11th October. 

Eastenders - 30th December 2010, 332 pageviews.  The baby-swap storyline in Eastender's last new year distressed many bereaved parents. Distressed that instead of using a storyline for good to focus on the reality of being a bereaved parent, they instead decided to sensational it and portray a grieving mother as a lunatic. To this day I still believe more damage was done than good, and opportunity was lost. 

Anabelle's Story - 8th May 2011, 288 pageviews.  This is my contribution to a book, organised by another bereaved mother. This book will tell the stories of many bereaved parents and raise awareness of stillbirth and neo-natal death. Soon to be published and on sale, proceeds will go to Sands.

Happy birthday blog. I look forward to figuring out year two of our lives After Anabelle with you.