Featured

Our Story

Tobias Charlie Jackson

I wanted to continue writing from my previous post ‘The Safe Zone’ but I’m not sure how. It is a long story, you may want to sit back comfortably with a cup of tea and prepare for a long and emotional ride, i’ll try to be as precise as a can.

I loved growing a bump; knowing that tiny baby was kicking my ribs, taking my food and crushing my social life was fantastic. I felt so blessed to have this tiny human inside me for 30 precious weeks… Yes, 30 weeks. 30 weeks and 2 days to be precise.

At our 20 week scan the sonographer explained that she couldn’t see the angle of baby’s feet, I went for a walk, rolled over, and even peed to try and get baby to move position, but with no luck we were invited back for another appointment the following week. When we left I made a smug joke about it being such a funny thing to have to check. Hearing lots of stories about people who have to go back for numerous scan because of baby’s position I didn’t even give it a second thought until the next appointment. I’m so glad I didn’t spend the following week thinking about it, it was like I knew that after this next scan it would take up every inch of my mind for the next 10 weeks; every second of every day.

Being completely unprepared I waltzed into my scan at 21 weeks and recieved the devastating news. Baby did not only have club feet but also club hands. Now looking back, in the grand scheme of things this day was nothing! Life would be have been difficult but I would do anything for the complications to have stopped there. As the weeks passed and scans came and went it seemed every scan there was something new to get our heads around. We were referred the Luton and Dunstable hospital to see a speciallist in fetal medicine. This man changed our life, gave us news no parent ever wants to hear but I cannot thank him enough. He made it seem like we could do anything we wanted, he was very clear and explained what he could see on the scan. He was able to give an opinion which up until now no-one wanted to do. Although opinions are often frown upon in medicine I needed to know the chances this baby had, what a professional thought. He explained that the outcome was uncertain, he asked us if we would change the outcome of the pregnancy. If we would consider an abortion then finding out as much as possible maybe more tests would be done, however, these would be invasive and potentially dangerous for myself and the baby. Because we never considered ending the pregnancy we decided we would just take our chances and pray for the best possible outcome.

It was very clear that this baby had more than club hands and feet, his movements were becoming reduced and by 28 weeks I could hardly feel HIM at all. The last 2 weeks of my pregnancy seemed to be appointments every day, checking babys heartbeat and monitoring the size of my bump. I had a large bump (which I was initially very happy with), it turns out this was because baby wasn’t swallowing as much as HE should do. I left L&D with a lump in my throat and a list of items to pack in my hospital bag. Baby was going to arrive very soon, I had to try and be as prepared as possible.

Then it happened. The very next day I went to A&E with chest pains. It turns out now these chest pains were actually signs of early labour but nonetheless because they were chest pains I had to sit in A&E and wait my turn to be seen, spending the night on a trolley before finally being admitted to the maternity ward. Of course, as soon as I was admitted the pains almost disappeared. I spent the next 2 days in the maternity ward begging and pleading to go back home. Late in the evening they were monitoring the baby (as they do every 4 hours) when his heart rate dropped. I was taken to the delivery suit for further monitoring and it happened again at 5am. 5am wake up call for my husband!

It was a scary few hours with no explanation. In all his scans the only positive comments were about his heartbeat, and now his heart rate is dropping, nothing is going right anymore! I sat on the monitor for the duration of the morning until 10am. At 10am, my waters broke. Knowing baby was going to come early wasn’t any surprise so we were relatively calm at this point, glad our baby would be here soon.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what he would be like when he came. Would he look like me or his dad? What colour eyes would he have? Shall I call my mum to be here when he arrives? Where shall I take him on his first outing? How shall I introduce him to family or friends? And of course, my husband turns out around, deep in thought and says ‘It’s going to be a long day, I haven’t had breakfast. I’m going to get a McDonalds do you want anything?’ Do I want anything!? I’m about to deliver a baby and he asks if I want a McDonalds! (I wont tell you what I said) but anyway, off he went to get his McDonalds.

Within a couple of hours we have met what felt like everyone in the hospital. It become clear that this baby was going to be in need of all the help he could get. As the risks became clear I was wheeled in for an emergency c-section. Within a few minutes a whisper over my shoulder said that the baby had been born and they were trying to incubate him (to you and me this means he wasn’t able to breathe by himself and needed a breathing tube). After many attempts, we were taken out of the room and put into a bay, where we prayed and prayed for our little boy to make it through. I prayed repeatedly over and over again just see and touch him. All I wanted was to be able to see and touch my baby. People rushing past into the delivery room and constant messages from the midwives to update us with no news for 30 minutes. Until they finally got it in! I burst into uncontrollable floods of tears. My prayer was answered.

My first touch

In our private delivery room, he was brought to us. We named him Tobias. Tobias means ‘God is Good’, he had been so good to us. He gave us our most precious gift and answered our prayers. I reached out to hold his tiny hand. The little baby was so delicate and fragile, he had fought so hard. A quick exit up to the ward to attach the tube to a ventilator machine meant that I would no longer see him. Family brought me photos and share news about my baby I felt so far away from. Upstairs but it felt like an impossible distance.

After a few hours the ANTS team came to assess Tobias. The midwife came to explain the words I will never forget ‘They will decided 1 of 3 things; to take him to Addenbrookes, to take him to L&D or to leave him here for as long as he can so he can spend time with his Mummy and Daddy.’ Wow! My heart sank.

You will not be surprised that when they said they wanted to take my baby away I was over the moon! The midwives were baffled as to why we were so happy for them to take him away. This meant they thought he had a chance. I was happy for him to go anywhere he needed if it meant giving him a chance. Tobias went to Addenbrookes, NICU, The Rosie, Room 5. This is where Tobias lived.

Tobias lived his whole life in that little room and wow what a blessing it was. That room kept my baby alive for 51 days. 51 days we had with a baby who never took a breath on his own. We stole 51 days with him, we knew we should never have had. We are so thankful for the time we had and to every person who became part of our journey. Our journey would never be long enough and we will never lose the whole in our heart left by Tobias but we will have memories that will last forever.

Tobias Charlie Jackson 11.10.2019 – 1.12.2019

Featured

The Puzzle Pieces of my Heart

What makes my heart full?

Join me… I created Puzzle Pieces of my Heart to bring together parents who are learning to live with the loss of a baby. Creating a blog maybe a different way of approaching the subject everyone seems so frightened to talk about. People often shy away from a topic so awful but actually it is really tough to live life after a loss. We need to talk about baby loss more, support each other and guide one another through the difficult days.  Every day is bringing new challenges (some of which shouldn’t even be considered as a challenge) but everyday mothers of angel babies put one foot in front of the other and achieve what can only be described as a miracle; living life as a mother but without her baby by her side. 

Living life after the death of my baby is so difficult. No-one knows what to say or do around you. They want to talk about your baby but do not mention his name for fear of upsetting you, they want to see photos of him but are unprepared for what the images show, they want to hear stories about the time spent with your baby but do not know how to ask so everyone carries on like nothing ever happened. Not anymore! 

This is a safe place to take that step, one step in front of the other, one moment at a time, to live our lives with our babies as a piece of our heart. To reconnect and find You again by doing the things you love. 

I chose to write this blog as a way for parents to come together, share the same interests and connect with the world that once felt so full. 

What You Should Expect From Puzzle Pieces of my Heart.

I am aiming to make your experience here as supportive as it can be. I want you to get five key things from Puzzle Pieces of my Heart:

  • Discuss and share topics and conversations that complete my heart, and hopefully yours too.  
  • Connect with other parents who are living everyday with their babies in their hearts. 
  • To discuss the daily challenges and find ways to overcome them together. 
  • The share our hobbies and interests. What do we do in the quiet moments to fill our hearts and share what we love. 
  • To welcome you into my crazy life. Join me on my journey to finding me again!   

I can’t wait to share my journey with you, please follow my blog to hear about my progress, tips and lifestyle changes.

The World I Once knew

For so long I have tried to explain how I feel as a bereaved mother living in a world that continues to turn; life goes on as if nothing ever happened, people continue to walk down the street with a smile on their faces while I scream in silence, grieving the loss of my baby boy.

The world is split into two halves.

1- One half is full of naive, innocent people that believe the world is a good place, that will do no harm. It is where people skip around the park with a bounce in their step, singing a merry tune, laughing with friends and planning their future.

2- The other is my current reality. It is seeing pain and suffering in everything your eyes turn to for comfort. It is sitting in an empty, quiet room for 9 hours a day without speaking to a single soul. It is dragging yourself out of bed in the morning, but for what? To hold a baby that isn’t there. To plan a future you might never have. To search high and low for the things that should bring you joy but don’t.

I was so blissfully unaware of the pain that one could feel. I was part of the world that saw joy in a beaming mother, smiled at giggling children and thought of the excitement a pregnancy would bring.

I’m not sure if I will ever see through the same eyes. My reality has made it so difficult, I can’t bare the thought of it.

The past year has stripped away so much joy and happiness, I wonder if I will ever truly feel happy again. Loss mums will tell me that I will smile again, but will I feel it? The smiles are easy, it’s the feelings that stop me in my tracks.

It is so easy to live in the world and be a participant in exchanging smiles and friendly greetings. Surrounded by people in a world I once knew, so happy and carefree. Part of me wonders who I was then and if I will ever be that person again.

I want to shout at the passing people and tell them what has happened, I want to world to know my pain and above everything else I want the world to know my baby. I want them to know that he was here, we touched him, we held him and we love him forever.

I continue to live in this blurry world searching for the door that will take me back to the world I once knew. I will carry Tobias every step of the way. You may not see him, I may not look like a mother. But I am and my son is here with me, always.

Lyra the Toy Poodle

Where do I start?

I’m not a huge animal, person. Jake has been very open and honest about wanting a dog for a couple of years now. I always had a dog growing up, but I was a teenager, I had no interest in walking them, they barked all the time and they got under my feet when I was in a rush. Surprise surprise, I wasn’t really interested in getting a dog again.

I managed to put Jake off with excuses like, ‘when I’m on summer holiday, when I’m on maternity leave, and then when things have settled down.’

We came home from tepee hospital on December 1st and by December 2nd Jake already wanted a dog. It was the week before Christmas and Jake was due to return to work full time on the 2nd Jan. we had two weeks left together, to sort everything out and finally start to return to some sort of ‘normality’. With that in mind and the 2nd Jan looming, I finally gave in a suggested it might be a good time to get a dog.

I have never been very good at being alone or being at home all day, I’m definitely a busy, social I able person. Sitting at home makes me anxious, depressed and quite honestly so bored that it turns me into some sort of crazy monster that would rather do anything than be stuck indoors. I knew I needed to do something ready for January. My option were either start thinking about returning to work shortly after, start volunteering somewhere to keep busy or get a dog. With my health not being at its best and having no interest of implementing an script routine so soon I opted for the dog.

Jake said that if I finally agreed to get a dog it could be any dog I wanted, only one requirement, it had to be hypoallergenic because of his asthma. I guess I could work with that. I started my mission looking for a toy poodle, either red or black. I don’t know if you know anything about dogs but red and black toy poodles are either crazy expensive or puppies. I wasn’t too keen on getting a puppy purely from being lazy to be honest. I didn’t want want house train her, I didn’t want to cover chair legs or skirting boards from teeth, I didn’t want to sit in the house for weeks waiting for her vaccinations, I just wanted a dog to keep myself busy, get out the house and most importantly keep Jake happy. After scrolling through hundreds of dogs on the internet with every type of cross breed you could think of I managed to find a 4 year old, black, toy poodle name Lyra. She was perfect.

Shortly after finding Lyra I went back into hospital but hospital or not Jake was not giving up on his dream of having a dog in the house. He went to collect her anyway and brought her o her new home. even though very shy to begin with she is now settling into our home nicely. She snuggles on her blanket in the sofa and keep guard when I am home alone, she comes to comfort me when I am getting upset and stares at me when I’m taking too long to get out of bed in the mornings.

I still stand by my first comment ‘I am not a dog person’, however Lyra is becoming my little furry friend and I love having her around. In our first few weeks with Lyra I felt so distant from her, I felt like we were trying to replace Tobias with her (stupid I know) something to look after, something to take out with me, something to keep my company, something that is so dependant.

In a strange way she has replaced lots of moments where I would feel lost, lonely or vulnerable with comfort, peace and security. She is a really funny (sometimes naughty) little dog, I am so glad she is now part of our home.

Is it ok to cry?

Everyone tells you that it is ok to cry, but is it?

Early advice following a bereavement of any kind is that it is ok to cry. People worry that you’re going to hold it all in and deny your emotions time but the truth is that your emotions take time themselves. In the days that followed Tobias’ passing, my eyes were constantly filled with tears. (That feeling when you are welling up and a tear could leave your eye at any moment, that feeling was a permanent one for days.) I would try my best to hold it together until I was in private, not because I didn’t want people to see me upset but because I knew that once it started the tears wouldn’t stop. I occasionally shed a tear with friends or family but the only person I could really pour my heart out to was Jake.

Jake got it. He understood the pain I was feeling. He let me cry without having to think of anything to say, without giving advice or without trying to make things better. I was just allowed to cry.

As the days turned into weeks people’s messages and the amount of times friends would ‘check in’ became fewer and fewer. At one point I couldn’t even reply to all the messages, I managed to find time to read them but actually everyone was so good at keeping me busy I hardy had a second to appreciate how lovely each message was. The friends that came out from the woodwork to offer their comfort or reach out for a chat. I’m not sure if these messages were helpful, now I question where they have all gone. If those distant friends (or probably a better word ‘acquaintances’) really did care, where are the now, were they just being nosey or sending a message to make themselves feel better. I have responded to a few messages more recently to take them up on the offer of a coffee or catch up but I have received very few responses and one of those didn’t reply until the day we discussed had come and gone. This made me think that they either forgot about me or they didn’t really want to meet up in the first place.

The days after returning home, I would sit for hours and just try to understand everything that had happened. My head was filled with memories that would replay over and over in my head. Now, the memories seem harder to grasp, Jake has returned to work and I am trying to live life without my baby.

The chapters of our journey have been equally hard in different ways. The hospital stay was really difficult emotionally but so busy, I didn’t have time to grieve, be upset or go for a catch up. Now is the time. Now is the time I need the support, telling me it is ok to cry, checking in to see how I am, asking if I need anything, or simply just taking 2 minutes from my extremely long days where I have to take the time to reply to their messages. People told me ‘it’s ok to cry,’ when did it stop being ok? Now, I want to cry.

Now when I cry people freak out. People rush after me when I walk away for a moment on my own. When I want to sob in a corner and remember my baby, people follow and ask questions, they try to give advice or ‘fix it’ but they can’t. No-one can fix it, I don’t know why people try. When I am on the phone to family, tired and exhausted, if I cry they all call each other to tell everyone I am having a bad day and that they need to check up on me. No, I’m not having a bad day, it is the same as every other day, just today I chose to show you how I feel. Don’t check up on me because I cry, check up on me because you want to. When I sob on the arm of Jake he worries. He panics that I am home alone all day, that I don’t speak to anyone, that I don’t want to go to big birthday parties or celebrations, he worries that I’m depressed and alone. He isn’t wrong. He is right.

It has been 2 months since my baby died. I am depressed, I am alone, I am hiding from people but actually I’m ok with that. I need time. I need time to grieve, time to be with no-one else, time to cry when I want to, to sob in the corner without people around me panicking or trying to fix anything. I need time to be me, to understand how I am and how I feel. I need to time to accept or decline invitations depending on how I am feeling in that moment. People say they understand and that I can have space if and when I need it, but do they? I hope so.

I need to be selfish. I cannot take the worry or panic from others anymore. If I am having a bad day (I don’t mean a day where I feel worse than any other, I mean a day when I can’t hide my emotions anymore), I will say no to people, to events, to parties. One day I will begin to say yes, and I pray that I have the strength to accept invitations more and more. Eventually this chapter will also be a memory, I’ll be glad when it is! I need my strength to move through this chapter and into the next one. My strength is going to come from a place inside, sitting with my emotions and working through them ‘one moment at a time.’

Unanswered questions and prayer.

My head has been a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions since Tobias was poorly. During pregnancy, I always had a voice in my mind that told me ‘it will be ok’.

At 20 weeks we discovered that Tobias was not developing the way that he should be. Coming out from the appointment I didn’t know what to think. Did the nurses get it right? How poorly would he be? Would he be able to walk or talk? Stupid things like, would my car be big enough if he needed a walking frame? My mind was rapidly filled with thousands of unanswered questions, not once did I ask myself if he would come home. The thought never crossed my mind until much later in pregnancy, we didn’t know the extent of his disabilities until a conversation with a midwife a few hours before he was born.

In times of desperation people who question God always ask ‘why.’ ‘Why do bad things happen to good people? Why does God allow natural disasters that end so many innocent lives? Why does God steal children from their parents?’ These are all questions that most Christians find difficult to answer. (I know I do!) Christians always try their best to quote the bible or give examples of stories that show Gods love in moments of suffering but I don’t think we will ever truly understand why.

During the past few months I am questioning my answers and beliefs more and more. As I find it harder to discover my purpose, I find myself drifting deeper into an uncertain mist.

I have always been blessed to know my purpose in life. My only focus, was to become a mum. Being a mum was placed on my heart from such a young age. Growing up I always wanted to be a teacher and look after children. Moving through college and training, my goal still remained the centre of any decision, ‘what choice would be best suited to me when I am a mum?’ I guess that is why I continued to peruse teaching. Teaching was always a great career choice for a mum. Spending school holidays with your own children, contracted to school hours and being involved in school life as much as possible. My career wasn’t the only choice I made with a family in mind.

Marrying my husband. I always wanted a husband who I could imagine being a brilliant dad. I wanted to make sure that my children came from a loving relationship, with parents who supported each other and created a loving, Christian, family home. I wanted my future children to have the best Dad. I don’t know how, but Jake and I do have an amazing relationship. We know each others past, we support and guide each other in the present and we grow and share goals for the future. I have been so blessed in my marriage.

When we were house hunting, that came easy too! We wanted a FAMILY home. One where we could envisage children playing on the soft, summer grass, a bunk bed in the bedroom and a high chair at the table. We found a house which would give us the ability to make it our home for our future, for our children.

My friends and I went away for a girly weekend early in 2019. The conversation of children came up (as always) and when I said my exscuses out loud I realised how ridiculous I had been. I was trying to control everything, but actually I knew I always wanted to be a parent, God put it in my heart and I was pushing him away for so long. That weekend I decided that if I trusted God then I should listen to my heart. I would give up my control and just wait to see what happened. By the end of April 2019 I was pregnant. For weeks I just remembering thinking ‘I should have listened to him sooner’. As soon as I gave up my control it had happened, Baby Jackson was on the way.

Having always had one purpose now leaves me lost and confused. Just before trying for a bay I would stand in church and look over at the young family before me. Wondering when it would be our time. Jake made it clear he was ready for a family but for some reason I was reluctant for a while. I would make exscuses in my head about it not being the right time or wanting more money in the bank so I wouldn’t have to return to work with a 9 month old baby at home. I would stand in the congregation wondering what life would be like, hearing ‘it will be ok.’

Now, sitting here having had my baby but having no baby to wake me up at night, to take to the park or to cuddle on the sofa, I am beginning to wonder WHY. Why did this happen? Why did I want a baby so badly, I wanted everything to be perfect before I had a baby, I was so careful to bring this baby into a life where it had everything it desired, why could I not give him the life I dreamed of, why would I not help him survive, why was he taken away from me? Why did it happen to me, when so many parents don’t want their baby, their baby is still healthy and loved and gets to come home? Why did God give him to me, to take him away so soon? How did he stay healthy for a long, just to be born and not be able to breathe? Why did he let it happen? Why did he make it happen? Why was Tobias given to us in the first place?

‘God promises to make something good out of the storms that bring devastation to your life.’ Romans 8:28

I think these questions will be unanswered for some time, maybe even a life time. All I know is that my God does love me and I love him. I will probably never understand why things happen but that is ok, it isn’t my job to know everything. God knows everything and I trust that everything happens for a reason. Tobias was here for 7 weeks. In that 7 weeks he touched so many lives, blessed so many people, and made Jake and I parents. He has been an amazing blessing that I am forever grateful for having, no matter how short the time. He will always be in our hearts and minds.

‘For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’ Jeremiah 29:11

The physical absence of Tobias has left a huge hole in my heart. I wish he could have been here for longer but it would never have been long enough. I know he couldn’t have stayed for longer for he would have suffered. I’m learning that my questions are ok. That I am allowed to question God but I shouldn’t be angry. He gave me the best gift I could ever wish for, my little family. I am blessed and I am loved. I continue to pray that one day I will be a mother to another baby and another and another. I pray that will be healthy and then I will be a good parent. I pray that God continues to bless my life and bless those around me. I pray that God will reveal the purpose of mine, Jakes and Tobias’ life so that I can continue Gods good work and make a difference to people around me. I pray a prayer of thanks; thank you for EVERYTHING.

’I surrender… I will trust your plan for my life.’ Matthew 6:31-34

‘Baking is good for your soul’

I loved baking my cinnamon loaf earlier in the week. This week brought another perfect opportunity to bake. My nieces are on half term and looking for things to do to keep busy everyday, why not bake??

They came to my house with packed lunches in tow, ready for a full day of baking. The girls are creative an very indecisive which meant absolute carnage in the kitchen, they loved it! There was pink cake, purple cake, blue cake, buttercream and flour everywhere. Jake could argue it was just like a normal ‘baking day’ in my house but it felt crazy.

While the cakes were cooling down we went to the shop to buy some flowers and put them Tobias’ Garden. The innocence and honesty of a 5 year old amazes me. The curiosity and amount of questions regarding Tobias and his garden kept oozing out of her. She had so many unanswered questions, her head was busy with thoughts about where he had gone, why he was gone and what he liked to do. You could almost see her eyes ticking as she began to process all the answers.

The baking that followed our visit to the garden continued to be filled Tobias. Questions that tugged at my heartstrings, questions that filled my eyes with tears, questions that I never expected and questions that made me laugh. I didn’t mind any of them. I loved how a 5 year old can ask all these questions and talk about Tobias for hours and yet sometimes adults can’t think of one thing to say. Be more like a 5 year old!

My whole afternoon was spent making memories together; baking cakes, visiting Tobias’ garden, walking the dogs, but my most special memory will be the way Tobias was brought into our home all afternoon.

We love you ❤️

‘Baked With Love.’

Before pregnancy took over my body I would spend my weekends pottering around in the kitchen, testing new recipes or trialling a fancy decoration technique that would never go to plan. Even in the busiest of weekends, I would always seem to find time to bake between marking or planning lessons, rustling up a bake in 20 minutes while I thought of my 100th creative way to teach addition of 1 digit numbers!

During pregnancy as the stress mounted, I found less and less time and motivation to bake. Every second I had was taken up by planning family holidays, buying decorations for the nursery or looking at newborn christmas photo shoots. Something I once loved to do was suddenly far less exciting than the idea of having a family!

Now I am searching for things that make me, Me. I spend lots of time wondering what my purpose is now, what can I use to motivate myself, how can I keep busy? For a while it was difficult to think of what I used to do before Tobias was here. On the next stage of this journey I really hope to find out if what made me happy before can make me happy again.

After a very emotional weekend I decided that Sunday was the day for baking. I set out in search of a sweet, fat-free recipe and came across a very strange list of ingredients to make a cinnamon loaf, including apple sauce and buttermilk. Who knew buttermilk contained less than 1% fat?! After a couple of hours in the kitchen and a trip to the local Asda, the cinnamon loaf was ready to eat. It was actually delicious (especially warm). I’m so glad I have found time to bake again. I’m still not sure if the baking helped or if it was just a good way to kill some time without having to leave the house but either way, i’ll be doing it again soon.

‘Baked With Love- From Chainie’s Kitchen’

Grieving The Memories We Will Never Have.

I’m still in the ‘he should be here’ phase i’m afraid. Moments seem to be hitting me left, right and centre at the moment. Even if I start by having a good day it seems to rapidly spiral out of control at the flick of a switch. Something so insignificant to others takes my breath away, I have to run and hide before I break down in front of everyone. (I know I should be able to cry in front of people, but that is a topic for another day!)

This week we celebrated a close friends birthday. I love a birthday party, a meal out or birthday cake, I mean, who doesn’t?! Recently, big gatherings have been a new challenge for me. Something that I used to love attending now feels almost impossible. I have convince myself every time that I should go. Sometimes I feel like i’m physically picking up my legs one after another to just get me closer to the door. Being social and going for meals was probably my favourite thing to do. If I had a choice to do anything with my day, it would be an easy decision; always a meal with friends. The last few months seemed to have sucked the fun and enjoyment out of everything that came so naturally before.

We went out for a birthday meal and as usual I didn’t want to go. However, despite not wanting to go in the first place it was actually going quite well. No awkward conversations, no silly comments from friends that don’t know what to say, no silences spread across the dinner table, it was quite an enjoyable evening. It even had moments when I was actually quite comfortable being out the house and surrounded by people (a rare occasion nowadays). The starters came out, the mains came out, everyone enjoyed their meals. It all looked so good. Naturally, following every birthday meal came the cake. The whole room joined the celebrations and sang Happy Birthday at the top of their voices. Who knew a cake could have such an impact!? All of a sudden, I could have burst.

‘Tobias will never have a birthday party, he will never get to hear everyone singing Happy Birthday to him or get to blow out his candles.’ That was it. I couldn’t cope. I had to leave. Trying not to make a fuss I told a few close people around me that I didn’t feel well and I managed to make a quick and sly exit out of the restaurant into my car and I drove home. I drove the whole journey in tears, trying to imagine the memories we will never get to make.

Occasions, celebrations and holidays will always be difficult. I am hoping they will get easier with time, or I will just be able to prepare myself for them. It seems that every positive moment is stolen by grief and I will not let grief take over me. I may have to take a step back for now and work my way forwards, one tiny step at a time but I will not put myself in a position again that I do not feel I can cope with. I’m trying to carry on as normal, pretending I have it together, but I can’t carry on as normal, I don’t have it all together. I need to do this slowly before I make myself worse. I would rather be strong at home than out and silently falling apart. Time to Practise what I preach.

‘One Moment At A Time’.

Valentines Day

I never really think much of Valentines Day. It is always nice to do something special but i’m not a huge fan of crap, unwanted presents or soppy cards with a talking heart on the front.

That being said Valentines Days was once very special. It is was day Jake and I got engaged. It was about as romantic and cringey as you can get; in Paris, top of the Eiffel Tower, he got down on one knee as asked me to marry him. Obviously, I loved it. I used to love sickening romance (and still do from time to time). Since this Valentines Day in 2016 we have both had a realistic expectation that Valentines Day will never get any better than that and therefore, flowers will do. (I’ll take flowers any day!)

Valentines Day this year hit me like a brick. Wow, I did not see this one coming. The first ‘holiday’ since Tobias passed away. (I’m not counting Christmas as I was in hospital myself, I almost forgot the day existed.) I have become quite good at preparing myself when leaving the house. I have the understanding that when going out I could encounter something that could catch me off guard and tug at my heartstrings at any moment. When going to the shopping centre, I prepare myself to see other mums with their babies. When I see friends, I prepare myself, I know that those who are parents will talk about their baby. When I go to the hairdressers, I prepare answers for the constant list of extremely personal questions. However, Valentines Day was one thing I did not prepare for.

It was just a day like any other. We hadn’t planned to do anything special or go out in public to witness everyone else living their ‘perfect’ life. We were at home, quite happy, enjoying our jigsaw puzzle. But then I went onto social media. I’m not a massive fan, and still only post occasionally but I have had a lot of time on my hands recently and social media seems to be the thing I am filling my time with. The power social media has is incredible, I have underestimated it up until now. It seemed like every post was about babies and families spending it with their loved ones. Living their ‘perfect life’. (I should have seen it coming.)

Is it really necessary to dress your baby in a onesie saying ‘My First Valentines Day’? Or cover my news feed with ‘My Baby is the only Valentine I need’? Even posts unrelated to babies; to see others posting photos with their husband or boyfriend so in love and happy, those photos acted like an instant time machine that took me straight back to when I felt like that. When I had everything I ever wanted, so happy and content my heart could have burst. Now, there is a huge hole in my heart. Celebrating a day of love was really tricky this year. I have so many people that I love so dearly, I cherish every one of them and I am so thankful they are part of my life but it will never fill this hole where Tobias should be.

Tobias Charlie Jackson, you are my forever valentine. Next year I will celebrate you. You made my heart complete.

Beads of Courage

Tobias collected over 200 beads. The Beads of Courage aims to ‘transform the bedside experience of caring for children and teens with serious illness through innovative Arts-in-Medicine Programs.’ They surely did that for us!

The day after Tobias was born was the first time I got to see him in the NICU. The NICU was a daunting place that could be really overwhelming at times; machines flashing and beeping, the clinical calm and intense quiet of the ward, not to mention all the medical equipment that was keeping your baby alive! Sometimes I would get a bit too much. Then out of the corner of your eye would you see this tiny little clear bag clipped on the bedside with bright and colourful beads. Just for a split second you could forget where you were. The intrigue to find out what beads your baby has gained. The colours and shapes would almost becoming soothing and I threaded them onto the string, one by one, remembering how strong my little baby was. And on the day where you would get a bead that you hadn’t had before.. well… that could be quite exciting. (NICU does funny things to you!)

As the beads start to mount up, the feeling of accomplishment begins to creep in, you whisper words of praise to your baby and congratulate them on overcoming another treatment or milestone.

It has been over 3 months since Tobias passed away. For 3 months I have found such comfort in these beads. I knew I wanted to display his beads somewhere they could be celebrated and so that when I am having a bad day I can be reminded of his strength in the hope that he can somehow pass it onto me. Today was the day I managed it.

I created a frame using all 200 of his beads, it is bright, colourful and a perfect reminder of the best days of my life, by his side, being his mum.

One Moment at a Time.

The book that made me feel ‘normal’-

Ask Me His Name- Elle Wright

Over the past few days I have made a conscious effort to be proactive in seeking support and guidance for life after baby loss. Living life after the loss of Tobias at times seems impossible. The meaning of my life has been stripped away so violently, I can’t see any way to put it back together again. During our stay in hospital the only way to get through was to concentrate on one day at a time, well, it started as one day at a time but things move too rapidly for that (especially in NICU). It quickly turned into one moment at a time.

One moment at a time, I becoming my life motto! (I hate to admit it but i’m starting to enjoy the freedom that brings.) I’ve always planned my life; every detail and every decision has always been thought out and weighed up but now I am learning to live in the moment. God keeps revealing his control to me, recently, whenever I try to control life or look too far into the future he sends me a reminder that he is in control. I have been sick for a while and I truly believe this is Gods way of forcing me to slow down and breathe. If I hadn’t been ill I’m sure I would be back at work by now. I often cope best in stressful situations by distracting myself and keeping busy, as many of us do! (Actually, now I have said that out loud, that probably isn’t coping at all, more running away and ignoring it but still, it helps us carry on with life.) This time I have not been able to do that, and even though I am finding it extremely difficult to let go of my control I am becoming so content with my home, family and more appreciative of how lucky I am to now be in better health and have wonderful people around me. Friends and family that offer advice, a shoulder to cry on and support whenever I need it.

Night Time Reading

One friend had read an article about a book. She suggested I read it to hear that life does go on, and you can and will be happier again one day. With this in mind and nothing to loose I ordered the book the next morning. Ask Me His Name by Elle Wright. Straight away the title was perfect for me. Instantly I thought about how I was finding it so difficult to bring Tobias into conversation and how everyone around me was waiting for me to signal that it was ok to talk about him. Obviously, because I had met friends and hadn’t mentioned him they all presumed I didn’t want to talk about him. Of course I want to talk about him, he is my baby, I want to talk about him CONSTANTLY the same as any other mum. Talking about him is so hard, I don’t know what to say about him without rambling for 20 minutes and others often do not know how to respond, some are so careful with their words they barely say anything and then others don’t know what to say but want to say something so they end up saying something stupid and really hurtful. Just from the title of this book I knew that Elle Wright understood.

Throughout the book there were so many situations and feelings I could resonate with. I kept pausing and being amazed at how she took my feelings and put them into words. As I read my way through the chapters in the book I realised that she was working her way through chapters of her life. There was chapters?! I feel suck in this one chapter at the moment, but having thought back after reading the book I realise that I too have already been working through so many chapters myself, I just hadn’t recognised it until now.

  • The numb ‘I can do this’ feeling I had when leaving the hospital.
  • The ‘he was so poorly’ feeling I had when his suffering was over.
  • The ‘how do people get through this’ feeling when I felt I had no purpose.
  • The ‘life carries on’ feeling when I saw my nieces in their Christmas performance.
  • The ‘he should be here’ feeling when I see a baby, or visit the park or go for lunch or actually when I do anything! ‘He should be here.’

This is my current chapter. ‘He should be here.’ Every where I look my heart is reminded on my loss. I feel like i’m walking around as a zombie. Not only looking like one because I cant be bothered to do my make-up or wear fitting clothes but because I don’t want to talk to anyone, see anyone or even have to look at anyone. I just want to hide into the background a live my life quietly, as an invisible mum, dealing with this on my own and being able to ignore the world around me that upsets me so much, trying to get through life one moment at a time.

As you can tell, this chapter isn’t great one for me. Possibly the hardest one yet. But it is just a chapter and I know I will move to the next chapter soon. I am living in the moment knowing that this feeling will not last forever. I have to make a conscious effort that although all I want to do is hide from the world, I am so lucky to have amazing people around me still and I need to appreciate them and let them move through this with me, they are not against me, this chapter will pass.

The final chapter of the book is titled ‘Dear Teddy’. This is Elles letter to her baby. I still have not managed to finish this book and i’m not sure when I will be able to. I cannot read this last chapter. Emotionally, I’m just not ready for that yet. I haven’t even thought about what I would want to say to Tobias and I don’t think I can think about that right now. One day I’m sure I will, but not today. So let’s not worry about that just yet, the time will come.

One moment at a time.

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started