Blogmas Day 25 ~ Happy Christmas Summer

 My dearest Summer, 

Today is Christmas Day. 

This year would have been our first Christmas with you. We so would have spoilt you crazy. Even though you are not physically with us, we will always be thinking of you and keeping you close. This will still be our first Christmas as your Mummy and Daddy. That thought makes me happy. 

Do you want to know what you would have got for Christmas? So many things. Colourful toys and books. Cute little outfits. You definitely would have had a Christmas outfit. Lots of cuddly toys. But you would have had oh so much more love. So many cuddles from us, from your big brother, from your Oma and Opa, from your Great Grandma, from your Nana and Grandad, from your Aunty and Uncle Alsop, and your cousin, from your Aunty Annie from all your other Aunties and Uncles. Baby girl, this Christmas with you would have been just wonderful. You would have brought so much joy. 

Instead, you are safe in the arms of Love Himself. That is a great comfort. And that does still bring joy. It really does. 

I am glad you are safe. I am glad you are Perfect and with Jesus. Nothing will ever harm you, precious one. You will never know the pain and hurt and disaster we know in this world. No, you will forever know love, peace, joy and perfection. 

I promise, I will do all I can to keep you alive and to show everyone you. You are my whole world, my life. 

Thank you for enriching my life and making my world a better one. 

Merry Christmas, precious Summer. 🌞💖

Blogmas Day 24 ~ A Daily Touch of Summer

 I can't believe today is Day 24 of Blogmas! This is the first time I have ever completed the Blogmas challenge and today will be a very short post. I just want to say thank you to each and every one of you who have  been reading this blog over the past 24 days, and allowing me to share my story. I have always wanted to complete the Blogmas challenge and have started it in the past, but never finished it. So after losing Summer, and having so much to write about, this year has been perfect. I will continue to write after this of course, just maybe not every single day. 

In light of this being the penultimate day of Blogmas, I wanted to round it off with something I have been thinking about doing moving forward with this blog and with my Social Media, and just with life generally. 

I have decided that in whatever I do, whatever I write about, whatever I experience, I will always look for something in my day that I can call a Touch of Summer. 

Something that is her. A thought, a thing that happens, anything. Anything that brings joy, love, hope, peace, etc. And I will acknowledge and write about it. 

I will also strive to bring a Touch of Summer to other people's lives. 

Summer has been my biggest blessing, and I want to share her with the world. 

So, from today onwards, I will commit to finding and being A Touch Of Summer. 🌞💖

With Love, Summer

Blogmas Day 23 ~ Talk About Her

 Today I wanted to open up and share why I like to talk about my daughter. 

As a bereaved mum, whose baby has died and is therefore, not here, it is so easy to feel like my baby girl will be and is being forgotten. 

When it comes to death, people just do not know how to be. It is uncomfortable, I know. And people are often scared that by talking about or mentioning the baby will cause pain and upset. 

Well, I want to tell you that actually, when you talk about and mention the name of my baby, you are acknowledging her existence and you are helping me to keep her memory alive. The pain of not talking about and including my baby brings more pain and sadness than talking about her. 

Losing a baby is so different compared to losing an older relative or loved one. It is the natural order of things, to say goodbye to adults in our lives. Those people will have lived and will have built memories. When a baby dies, and when a baby is miscarried or still birth, the baby has not had that time to spend making the memories they will have done if they had lived and grown up. That is why it feels that they will be forgotten quicker. Losing a baby is not the natural order. So it is harder to deal with. 

I have said this so many times before, just because my baby is dead, does not mean that she is not my baby. Just because she is not here with us, doesn't mean I don't have a daughter or that I am not a Mother. I carried Summer, I gave birth to her, literally - just like any other mum gives birth to their child. I love her just like all the other mum's love their children. 

My baby existed. Summer is my daughter. 

Please, don't be scared to mention her or talk about her. Doing so brings me more joy and happiness and comfort than you could ever imagine. 

Help me to keep the memory of my baby alive. Help me to honour her and remember her. 

Summer Dermawan-Alsop 🌞💖

Summer, my sleeping beauty

Blogmas Day 22 ~ A Poem for Summer ~ Safe In The Arms Of Love

 

Blogmas Day 21 ~ Facts About Summer

 

I love this quote by Zoe Clark Coates. It is about her daughter Darcey, whom she also lost. When I read these words I got thinking about my babies. These words really resonated with me and I got thinking as what my babies would be like, if they had lived. 

Both my girls will have been stunners. Both dark haired and olive skinned. They would be full of joy and laughter and love. Both of them living up to their Indonesian name meaning of "Generous". They would be generous with their love, their laughter, their joy, their kindness, their hope. 

Summer would have been athletic and musical. She would have loved ice skating, playing sports and she would have learned to play every instrument under the sun. She would love to go swimming and spend time watching the football and golf with her Daddy. Of course she would be a Manchester United supporter - just like him. 

She would have loved animals, like me, especially cats. And she would be very close with all three cats - but Audrey in particular. Her and Audrey would have been inseparable. 

Summer would have loved to read, and she would be bilingual, as I will have learned myself and brought her up speaking Indonesian as well as English. 

Summer's favourite colour will have been orange, and her favourite food will have been Indonesian Noodles. 

Of course, her favourite season will have been Summer. She will have loved the sun and the heat and she the Beach will have been one of her favourite places. 

She will have had her Daddy's humour, and my temperament. 

Summer will have been loved by everyone who came across her, and she would have enriched their lives greatly. She will have been radiant. 

I find it easier thinking about what Summer would have been like, because I feel like I knew her more as I carried her longer than I carried Winter. But I do just want to say, that although this blog is dedicated to Summer, both her and Winter are loved deeply and were both wanted. Whatever I write, think and feel about Summer, I also automatically apply to Winter. 

I love thinking about what my babies will have been like if they have lived and it brings me joy to know that they are all of that and more, in Heaven. 

My babies are loved and treasured. 🌞💖

Blogmas Day 20 ~ What I Long to Tell My Daughter

Different kind of post today...

There are so many things that I long to do with Summer, that I long to tell her. Although I will not be able to do the things I long to do with her on this side of Heaven, I know I can still tell her things, and I do on a regular basis. Whether I go to see her at the Cemetery or whether I just talk to her, as if she was here. Writing this blog is a way that has helped me to feel like I can tell her things as well as it being for myself, and for others. 

I thought I would share a few of the things I long to tell my Summer...

Darling, sweet Summer, 

I am sorry that my body could not carry you and keep you safe. 

You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and your Daddy.

You have changed my life in ways you could not imagine, and for that I am grateful. 

You have brought me closer to my own mum, you have taught me the love of a Mother. 

You have brought me and your Daddy closer than ever. 

You have given me a new outpouring of love. 

I miss you. 

I can't wait for the day we are united. 

You have brought me back and closer to God. 

You blow my mind.

You are my most treasured, valued possession. 

You are the best thing I have ever made. 

You are the biggest blessing. 

You are loved. 

Your purpose is greater than any of us could ever imagine and I am excited for what God has instore for us because of you, my Precious one. 🌞💖

Summer and Mummy

Blogmas Day 19 ~ Dealing With The Triggers

 

I mentioned yesterday about the Anxiety, Depression and PTSD that has followed the loss of my daughter Summer. 

Today I am continuing, in a way, and going to open up about how I deal with and manage some of the triggers I mentioned in yesterday's post. 

One of the biggest things that triggers both the Anxiety and the Depression is other pregnant women. Especially those who are close to Summer's Due Date. Now, I won't go into too much depth regarding this, but when you lose a baby, your heart breaks and your brain cannot handle others who look like you should be looking. The problem is, there is literally nothing you can do. People are always going to get pregnant. The feelings this brings hurts. It's raw and it's painful. And you feel so guilty for not feeling happy for those people. You feel you are a bad person. You feel disgusted at yourself. And you spiral. That's exactly what I did. So often I gave in to the anger, the jealousy and the resentment. And then I would hate myself for it. 

Has this changed? Yes and No. You see, the thing is, on the surface I was experiencing bitterness and anger, but actually I would never wish what I was going through on anyone. And actually I was so happy that others are pregnant, I was just devastated that I was not. Once I started counselling and my feelings validated and explored with a professional, I have been able to accept that actually it is good and okay to feel happy for others whilst feeling miserable and devastated for myself, and that the two can come hand in hand. And I realised I was more terrified of the same thing happening to others, than feeling anger. Once I allowed myself and was kind to myself for feeling what I felt, I was able to choose to be happy for others. It was liberating. Sure, seeing pregnant people hurts, but it is hopeful. I choose to think that if it can happen for them then it can happen for me one day. 

The next trigger, that is actually the biggest one for me still and now, is my work place. The building. The grounds. As I mentioned in my last post, it is where both of my miscarriages started. I remember the exact place, both places, the times, who was around, what was around. I still really struggle to be physically in that building. 

At first, I couldn't even make it out the car. I would cry, my body would tense up, I would get hot and sweaty, I wouldn't be able to breathe. I would have full on panic attacks and would not be able to control myself. After several times of deliberate and increasing exposure, I was able to agree to a phase return and get myself back to work. 

Last week was my first full week back full time. I am able to control my panic attacks more. I haven't had any bad ones for a few weeks, though I do have a constant stomach ache when I am in the building. As soon as I leave, it goes. My counsellor thinks it is Body Memories - my body remembering the contractions it had in that place and it manifesting in stomach ache whilst I'm there. Although my brain is more controllable than it was, my body is still feeling unsafe. 

What has helped has been having a really amazing team to go back to. They are all aware, they are all very kind and understanding and they look after me. If I feel myself losing it or going into a panic, which does happen, I know I have safe places within work, and people that I can go to. And I do.

So, the things that have helped with me managing these triggers is actually being exposed to them. And having the right people around being ready to catch me when I fall. Being patient with me, and although they may not understand, they love on me hard and support me anyway. For them, I am grateful 🌞💖

Blogmas Day 18 ~ Anxiety, Depression and PTSD Following Baby Loss

This post is quite a hard one to write, and may actually be a difficult read, so I won't be offended if you skip this one. But I do feel it is so important to acknowledge what Baby Loss can do to your mental health, and what it has done to mine. 

So often, as especially as Christians, we feel like we have to be strong. We have to be strong because of what we believe. 

What I am learning is that actually, I am still a human. And therefore I feel just like every one else, I hurt like everyone else, I get angry and confused - just like everyone else. 

Believing in Jesus does not make me immune to the troubles of the world. 

Although I do believe that I have Jesus and that it is Him who is walking me through this, that it is His strength in my weakness that is getting me through, I do still want to share and open up about the hit I have taken mentally. To show you that I am human. That I am hurt, that I am broken, just as anyone else would be. 

So... since I gave birth and miscarried my beautiful daughter, Summer, I have experienced a fresh new wave of anxiety about life that I have not had before. I have been diagnosed with Depression and PTSD has also been mentioned, though not diagnosed. 

The trauma of losing my baby - my babies even - has hit me hard. 

Anxiety wise - I am in constant fear that something bad is going to happen. I didn't even realise they way I felt until Rich mentioned some of my behaviours and I talked them through with my Counsellor. Whenever he came home after he had been out, I would follow him around the house and feel the need to constantly be with him. If he went out, I needed him to text me to let me know he had got wherever he was going safely and approximately what time he would be home. If he was late, I would panic. Not because he wasn't home, but because my brain automatically went to the worst case scenario that something terrible had happened. 

I would constantly clean and I would not really leave my house unless it was to go to the supermarket, to my Doctors, to my mum and dad's or to my friend Rachel's. Or to go see Summer. 

I lost all passion for seeing other people and preferred to be on my own. That way I couldn't get hurt. 

My counsellor explained it to me using the analogy of a cave. She said it was like I had gone into survival mode. I lived in this cave and in my cave were a handful of people - Rich, M, Rach, Chris, my Mum and Dad and a few others. Around them, I felt safe. Even if they left my cave and came back, that was okay, because we were together in my cave and that was safe.  

Anything outside of my cave was a danger, and I would often have panic attacks. Or I would venture out for a short while, and would come home and cry for hours. 

I was fine going to the supermarket and I enjoyed that, or to my mum and dad's but my counsellor explained that they were again, my safe zones, and my housekeeping jobs which, in turn were how I was trying to regain control of my surroundings and things in my life. Cleaning became an obsessive compulsive activity that I needed to do to regain control. And so I would do it, constantly. 

The worse thing for my anxiety was work. I didn't realise the extent of this being a trigger until I took Rich to work one day as he was going away on a Residential. As we got closer to the building I started panicking. I told him that I may have to drop him off at the gate as I was feeling that anxious. Initially, I thought it was for one reason, which I will mention in another post, but turns out it wasn't really solely to do with that. 

After I dropped him off, it took me longer than normal to get home because of the anxiety I was having. The physical reaction to the place. I couldn't breath. My heart was pounding. I couldn't stop crying. I was shocked as to the extent of anxiety I was experiencing towards even just the grounds of where I work.

After informing my GP and Counsellor, together they helped me explore what the reason was for the place being such a trigger. It was there that both of my miscarriages actually started. It was there that my first miscarriage - the bleeding started, and with Summer, it was where my contractions started, resulting in her miscarriage. My brain just could not cope with the place and my body would go into complete meltdown. I was unable to control it for a long time. 

Although I am back at work now, I do still have a lot of anxiety there. I am able to control it more, but it is still there. It will be a long time before it goes and I will write in another post on how I deal with and manage my triggers. 

Depression wise - I was diagnosed a few weeks after Summer's funeral. I had thought that after her funeral I would feel better and I would go back to work. That did not happen. I felt worse and I quickly spiralled and things went down hill. I felt so down, so angry, so hopeless and just so bad, I could not pick myself back up. It was a few weeks before I even admitted to Rich how bad it was. I did so many things and said so many things that were completely out of my character, and reflecting now - I can't believe I did. I needed help. Badly. All I wanted was to be with Summer. To be with my daughter. The pain of not being with her was too great. Although I would not say I was suicidal, and I knew I would not do anything to end my own life, I wanted to be with Summer bad enough that I would have welcomed any other means at the time of being with her. I know this is hard to hear and I am sorry, but I just wanted to be honest. I needed help.

When I finally opened up to Rich how bad it was, we talked and I promised him I would see the Doctors as soon as possible, and I did. My doctors were super helpful, so lovely and very supportive. I agreed to medication and they agreed to see me every single week in person until my Counselling officially started. I have been on Sertraline for the past 3 months now and they are helping. I am so grateful for my doctors, as without them, I honestly don't know where I would be now.

PTSD wise - as I mentioned before, I have not been diagnosed with this, however the Doctors have said I have been showing and experiencing symptoms. These are linked to my anxiety and triggers in that area, but also my sleep. For weeks, I was just not sleeping. I would have nightmares every single night where I would basically relive the experience of the miscarriage, from start to finish. I would then be scared to go to sleep and therefore I wouldn't sleep. 

Thankfully, as the meds kicked in and as my counselling progressed, I don't suffer from these as much. Maybe once or twice a week I do have the nightmares, but I am sleeping a lot more than I was before. 

Although I have come a long way these past few weeks, making it back into work and managing to sleep better, managing my triggers better, I know I still have a long way to go. 

Losing my baby has knocked me for six and has majorly impacted my mental health, but I am so grateful to for all my family and friends who have walked through all this with me, and not given up on me. For Rich, for my managers at work, and for my GPs and my Counsellor. 🌞💖

Blogmas Day 17 ~ Summer's Post Mortem Results

 After an extremely long wait, we finally found out the results from our Post Mortem last week. Very much like the wait we had for Summer's funeral, this wait was long and difficult. 

They told us right from the start, when they offered us a Post Mortem, that it was highly unlikely that they would find anything. They told us that 9 times out of 10, they do not find anything, but if there was that 1 chance would we want it? 

Knowing that we were extremely lucky to have even been offered a PM, as Summer was my second miscarriage, and currently you have to have 3 consecutive losses before investigations are offered, we seized the PM whole heartedly. 

Knowing the statistics and the chances of them not finding anything, for the one small chance, it would be worth it, especially for us at the early stage (or amount) of losses. They offered us the PM due to the unusual circumstances surrounding Summer's spontaneous birth and also due to my Didelphic Uterus. 

So we authorised a full PM where we gave permission for them to take from every organ that they could and run tests. We also signed over the slides to be kept for further and future research. Both from Summer, and from myself and my placenta. I just felt that should they be able to use us for research and maybe help prevent further losses for people from the research they do with us, then it was worth it. 

They told us that PM results usually take 12 weeks to come back, however, with Covid they were waking 13-15 weeks. So we knew we were in for a long wait. 

In the end, it was 15 weeks and 2 days by the time our results made it back to the hospital and then it was a further 3 weeks before we were seen last week by a consultant. 

So, after such a long wait, last week Rich and I made our way to the hospital where Summer was born to meet with the Consultant. 

I was absolutely terrified. We had both said that we kind of hoped that something would be discovered, because that way we would know why our baby died and then we could work with the doctors in future with out future pregnancies. If there was something found, then perhaps things could be done. 

I was also of the mindset that I was terrified of them finding something. I did not want anything to have been wrong with my baby girl, and I did not want anything to be wrong with me. I have known the risk of miscarriage and prem labour was always high for me because of my Didelphic Uterus, but I was terrified that if it was my Uterus, that would mean that it was another way in which my body has failed me again. My RA, and now this. 

I know, that it is nothing I have done, but having an autoimmune disease does take it's toll mentally, and so having an abnormality with your uterus does the same. It doesn't stop the thoughts that it is my fault, because of my body. I know I have a long journey with this, and it will take me a long time to retrain my brain. 

Anyway, the consultant was lovely. She was kind, calming and very empathetic. She talked through our results with us. 

Our baby Summer was perfect. The PM found that there was absolutely no problem with her at all. And that she was perfect in every way. Everything had grown and developed as it should have. She was the perfect size. There was no reason why she died. 

I was relieved, but also filled with terror. It must be me (even though, I know, I know ... it isn't my fault). And she was very quick to iterate this as well. 

She said that the PM showed nothing. And that there was no reason they could see why Summer died. Bitter sweet. 

She went on to say that there was not enough evidence to say it was my Didelphic Uterus but that it could have been. They just couldn't say or know for sure. But that it was not my fault. 

I cried. So much. Relief that Summer was well and that she was perfect, but sad and angry that my body is the way it is and that although there isn't enough evidence to say it is my body, it could still be. 

I know that I have a long journey with Self Esteem and how I feel about my body now, and this journey is underway. 

Moving forward, when we are ready to try again, we will be working closely with consultants and midwives with future pregnancies. I will be heavily monitored, checked and scanned, and there are a few options they have said they can offer me. Like a stitch in my cervix and potentially progesterone too. 

I am grateful that we had a PM done and that Summer remains perfect, faultless and that this document proves it. I will hold onto it forever. 🌞💖

Summer's Post Mortem Report
Proof that she is Perfect. 

Blogmas Day 16 ~ An Ode to Grief

 Since losing Summer, grief has hit our household so hard, neither of us experienced anything like it before. 

Grief is a powerful force, and is something that I have learned is now part of my life, and the walk with grief is going to be a lifelong journey. 

Many people are aware of and talk about the different stages of grief, but for me, these stages are only part of it, and they suggest that the grief comes to an end. 

I personally feel (and hope) that my grief over my loss of Summer never comes to an end. Why? Because grief is birthed out of love. 

I'm not saying grief has to be forever crying, wailing, in sorrow etc. Because, as I am learning, and as I will continue to, that is only part of it. And I know time is a healer. Over time, I will learn to control my response to grief, I will be able to accept and live with my grief, rather than it disappear. Because I will always love my daughter. ALWAYS. So I will always grieve for her. Though that will look different as time goes on. 

But that's what I want people to know. That it is okay to grieve. It is okay to live with grief. Because yes, grief may be ugly at times, but grief is birthed from love, and love is beautiful. I'd love it for people to come to know this. 

Here is a little poem I have written about Grief... 

An Ode to Grief

Grief,

my new companion,

my new lifelong friend,

It's okay that you're here

I never want you to end.

You are here because of love,

A way for me to feel close

To the little one,

Whom I will always love the most.

Sometimes it feels like

You have broken my brain

And often I feel like

You're making me insane

But you are here to stay

My new life long friend

You're welcome in my life

Because my love for my baby will never end. 

I will learn to live with you,

accept and honour you,

I will let myself feel you, 

I will not supress you. 

The healing that comes 

from giving in to you

Will make me stronger

As true love tends to do

So, Grief,

My valued companion,

My treasured, lifelong friend, 

You are welcome here,

Because, just like you,

my love for my Summer will never ever end. 

Blogmas Day 15 ~ Summer's Funeral

 Although Summer was born on Friday 23rd July, we were not actually able to bury her and have her funeral until Friday 17th September. It was the longest wait of my life. Very difficult and slow. 

Because we had authorised a full Post Mortem on Summer, and she didn't leave Calderdale Hospital for it until Tuesday 27th July, we knew that there would be a wait. But we had signed everything over and granted permission for them to keep the slides they took for future research etc, so that we could get her back as soon as possible so she could be buried as soon as possible. 

Unfortunately, the wait was longer than was expected. Nobody expects to have to bury their child, let alone have to wait to be able to do so. The wait was horrible. I knew that the Post Mortem on my baby could potentially reveal any problems, and that ultimately the research they did from myself and Summer could potentially save other babies, and other mum's and dad's in our position in the future, and that's why we ordered a full PM, but boy the wait. I struggled. All we wanted to do was lay our baby to rest. 

Eventually, on the 26th August, I got a phone call from the Funeral Director saying that they had collected Summer from Manchester and that she was now with them, and a date could be arranged for her funeral. 

Friday 17th September was the next available date at 9.30am at one of the Crematoriums local to us. 

We had actually be really lucky to be offered a funded funeral by the Hospital where I delivered Summer, and so we took it, gratefully. They told me that it would mean we wouldn't have full control over Summer's funeral and planning but that I would be involved and oversee the planning. I didn't mind at all because let's face it, no funeral is pleasant and nobody wants to plan one at all - more so your own child's. 

The Funeral Directors and the Hospital Chaplaincy that I worked with were all wonderful. I was allowed to go and visit Summer at the FD's as often as I wanted in the run up to the funeral. And so that's exactly what I did. 

I know it probably sounds strange, but this was the only time I was ever going to have with my daughter in the same room again. So I took the opportunity with both arms and my whole being, and I went and sat with my daughter several times a week. Yes she was in a gorgeous, little white coffin, but I talked to her, I read to her, I sang to her. Each and every time. 

This was special time with my daughter and I would never get this again. I needed it. And I will always think back fondly at that time I was able to spend with her. Doing all the things a Mother should be able to do. 

The day of her funeral came, and Rich and I set off early to meet the Funeral Director and the Hospital Chaplain at the Crematorium. We had decided not to invite anyone to the funeral, but to have it just us two. Again, there is something different about burying your own baby. We just wanted this moment to be us and her. 

Rich carried her from the cars to the plot and the Minister began the service. I took her some orange roses to mark her spot that she was laid to rest in. 

The funeral didn't last long. Maybe about 20 mins, and we had a bit of time saying our goodbyes before we left and allowed the men to fill the grave. 

Rich and I had decided that we would spend the rest of the day together and try do something nice. We came home, had another coffee and went for a walk. When we came home, we had some lunch which was a lovely spread delivered to us by our friends Rachel and Chris the night before. And in the afternoon, we went to collect Rich's son. 

Summer's funeral, and the lead up to it is a time I will never forget and a time that I will cherish and cling onto for the rest of my life. The time I had with my daughter in the run up to the funeral is my most treasured time and no one will ever take that away from me. 

I'd never wish for anyone to have to bury their own child, but I am so grateful for the Funeral Directors and the Hospital Minister who I worked with and who attended Summer's funeral. I'm grateful for the time they allowed me to have with my daughter. I'm grateful for Calderdale Hospital for paying for Summer's funeral, and for all the support we have had from them throughout this journey. I am also extremely grateful for Zoe Clark Coates, founder of Saying Goodbye, who sent me two of her poems to include in Summer's funeral.  🌞💖

Summer in the Chapel of Rest at the Funeral Directors.

Summer's gorgeous little coffin.

Order of Service for Summer's Funeral

"Baby Loss" Poem by Zoe Clark Coates

"Family Tree" Poem by Zoe Clark Coates

Summer's final resting place. 

Blogmas Day 14 ~ Keeping Her Close

 Slightly different kind of post today, as will include more visuals than writing for once 😂. 

Although I will never ever forget Summer, in the weeks following her passing many people sent lovely gifts and flowers. A lot of these things I have been able to keep and will treasure forever and are a way of me being able to keep Summer close at all times. So I just thought I would share them here. 

Orange Roses

Roses have become the flower that I am drawn the most towards when it comes to Summer. 
I have a gorgeous outdoor Summer Rose plant outside in the back garden and every month on the 23rd, I always get a bunch of Orange ones to place in our living room, for Summer. 

Gorgeous little Wishing Well Keepsakes from some close friends. 

Engraved bracelet with Summer's name on it.

Pandora floral ring in memory of Summer, 

I wear this ring every single day. 

Feather bracelet from another close friend. 
I wear this every single day. 

Summer's name tattooed on the inside of my ring finger on my right hand. 

Summer's actual footprint (shrunk down) with her birth date on my right arm.

Engraved candle holder from my Aunty. 

We have this in the centre of our mantle piece and light a tea light in it 
every month on the 23rd. 

This book was in our 4Louis Memory Box.

When Summer was returned from her Post Mortem to the Funeral Directors, I went 
to sit with Summer as often as I was allowed in the run up to her funeral. 
Every time I would take this book and read it to her. 
Since then, I always carry it around with me in my handbag, everywhere I go. 

Keeping Summer close to me at all times is one of the most important things to me, All of these things (and more) have become extremely valuable to me and I will forever treasure them. 🌞💖

Blogmas Day 13 ~ 7 Lessons from Baby Loss

Losing my baby is the worst thing that I have ever experienced, ever. Although I would say we are still in relatively early days in our new life with baby loss, I have been thinking of a few of the things I have learned so far during these past few months and thought I would share them here. 

1) Losing a baby hurls you into a whole new world that you never would have thought existed - but you are not alone.

"The day after my baby died, what shocked me the most was that the sun rose, and the post still slipped through my mail box, and I still got thirsty and the birds still sang, and the traffic lights still changed colour... but my world had stopped, my planet had stopped spinning" ~ Zoe Clark Coates.

This quote just sums up how I felt (and still feel) after Summer died. Life continues, as if my baby doesn't exist. And I am expected to get up and get on. 

It's a strange feeling and life to be living, in this state. And to be honest, even now, I still feel like this. I still struggle massively. I'm getting better at hiding it. I'm getting better at just getting on. I'm getting better at looking happy and okay. 

And yes, I am those things, but those things are partnered with immense pain, despair, trauma and upset. Constantly. They co-exist. And that is just my new life now. 

These feelings, I know, will soften and get less, but they will always co exist. 

I know that this new world and way of life for me is made bearable by God. I know that in my weakness, He is strong. And so, I have peace. 

I know I am not alone. Despite baby loss being such a taboo subject, and not spoken about as much; I know that there are others who have lost children and with those people, I have a special and unique bond. In our brokenness, together, we become strong. 

2) Grief is unpredictable and those around you may feel it's ugly, but grief comes from love, and love is beautiful.

"Grief is like a wild flower, it can erupt from the ground anywhere it chooses, when it blossoms, we must be careful not to step on it. Instead, we honour it's existence and appreciate that love made it bloom" ~Zoe Clark Coates.

I love this quote. So much. These past few months, I have experienced grief like I never have before. In ways that have shocked me, and made those around me uncomfortable. Grief changes us and grief can be ugly, and uncomfortable. But the grief I am feeling is because of the immense and indescribable love that I have for my daughter. 

It's uncomfortable when grief hits me out of no where. But supressing it does not bring the healing. Accepting that my grief is birthed for the love I have for Summer, and allowing myself to feel it in that moment. brings healing. I will never stop loving my daughter, and my grief will always be an outburst of that love. 

3) My love for my baby is the greatest love. 

I never understood the love my mum has for me, until now. Having Summer has changed me. I am still learning and walking through this change, but all I know and can 100% say is that I feel love in a way I have never felt it before. The love a Mother has for her child is life changing. It is raw. It is fierce. It is strong. It is deep. It is immense. It is awesome. It is powerful. The love that Summer has awakened in me is the greatest love. 

4) I can handle my triggers better than I think I can.

I'll do a separate post on triggers and anxiety later during this Blogmas period, but one of the things that I have learned, and am still learning now are that "triggers" are like grief. They have been and are springing out of seemingly nowhere, and I am learning what they are on a day to day basis and how to deal with them. But one thing several people have said to me these past few weeks, especially being back at work, is that I am dealing with my triggers better than I think or feel I am. 

I wanted to include this one because, when you lose a baby, your whole world is shaken up, turned upside down and poured everywhere. Again, I'll go into more detail about this in a separate post, but for me personally, I lost all confidence in myself and lost all confidence and hope and trust in everything else. So the way I feel I am doing, or how I feel about myself, probably isn't accurate. And having those around me who tell me I am doing well, I find helpful and I know will slowly help me to rewire my brain and become confident again. 

5) No matter how often people say they understand, unless they have been through it themselves, they don't - and it is unfair to expect them to. 

People are amazing. They really are. I have been incredibly blessed to be surrounded by the people that I have been surrounded by. Everyone has been so kind and caring towards me, so loving and patient. When I have been a wreck, and done things out of character, my nearest and dearest have stuck by me and loved me throughout. 

Of course, there have also been people who have bolted. And understandably so. When you lose a baby and when grief becomes part of your life, as I mentioned before, it can get ugly. And people feel uncomfortable. 

What I have learned through this is that, no matter how nice people are being, saying they understand and it's okay to feel the way you do, the truth is - unless they have been through this themselves, they do not understand. 

And it is a good thing that they do not understand. They are lucky that they do not understand. And it is okay that they do not understand. 

Just the fact that they are there, loving hard on you, walking with you and sticking by you is one of the greatest gifts. They will be feeling uncomfortable. They won't know how to help. But that's okay. They are still there. And that is beautiful. 

I'm so grateful for those in my life who do not understand and who have yet stuck by me and walked this journey with me. 

6) Counselling and talking about my baby helps.

I have been lucky enough to have 4 counselling sessions with a group called The Ladder Group (through my work) in the interim before my counselling with Talk Thru (a Specialist Baby Loss Charity in Huddersfield) starts next week. 

Although it has only been 4 sessions, these sessions have helped me immensely. Just being able to say whatever I needed to say, no matter how unpleasant, has helped me to start my healing process. 

Talking about Summer and mentioning her name helps me to keep her memory alive and helps me to feel like she will not be forgotten. 

Losing a baby is different to losing an older or living relative. My baby has not had the time anyone living has had to make memories or live life. Because of this, it does feel that she will be forgotten quicker and easier. 

I can't let that happen. Summer existed. She was loved. She was real. She is my daughter. I will always talk about her. 

7) My baby may have died, but I am still a Mother, and I still have a purpose. 

I may not have my living baby to care for and bring up, but I am still a Mother. I carried my baby, and I gave birth to her. I loved her and will forever love her. She is still my daughter. 

I know my walk through Baby Loss is still in it's early stages and that I have lots more to learn but I hope that this post helps someone, whether you have been through baby loss yourself or whether you are supporting someone who has been. 🌞💖

Blogmas Day 12 ~ Benjamin and Jack

 I'd like to dedicate today's post to two other angel babies who are a massive part of mine and Summer's story. 

Benjamin and Jack. Two gorgeous baby boys who, like Summer, ran on ahead of us into Heaven. Two gorgeous boys whose mummies I have connected with and now how a special bond with and a treasured friendship. Both of these lovely mummies have given me permission to write about their boys and share them because they really are a massive part of our story and I love these boys dearly. 

Benjamin belongs to my friend Ruby, whom I connected with from the Tommy's Baby Loss Facebook Page. Ruby doesn't live too far from me, so I have had the pleasure and honour of meeting her and spending a bit of time with her. 

Benjamin is her baby boy who was born a few weeks before Summer due to the difficult decision Ruby and her partner had to make of having a TFMR. Poor Benjamin was not very well at all and his mummy and daddy were told that it was very unlikely that he would survive outside the womb and there was lots of things wrong. I could not imagine the pain Ruby and Richard felt having to make that difficult decision, but I love and respect their bravery to do what was right for their baby boy and in turn for them to give him to be Summer's friend. 

Jack belongs to my other friend Rachel, whom I connected with in the same way as with Ruby. Due to Rachel and myself living quite far away from each other, I haven't yet been able to meet her properly and spend time with her, but we are in contact regularly and are able to support each other that way. I do hope that one day, our paths will cross but until then, whatsapp is sufficient.

So Jack was born early, again a few weeks before Summer, due to an "incompetent cervix". It feels so strange writing that - I am not calling Rachel's cervix incompetent, it's just that is what the actual reason is called, and again, Rachel has given me permission to mention this. Although I am yet to learn about this condition, I completely understand the feelings of pain and loss, hurt and confusion that Rachel has experienced, and I love and respect and honour her for her bravery. Again, just as with Ruby, I feel Rachel and I are specially connected because of our experiences and because of our children. 

Jack and Benjamin are a huge part of my journey with Summer and I always think about the three of them up in Heaven together (and with Winter and all the other babies of course) but the main image I have in my head when I think about them is the three of them together. Summer in the middle and Jack and Benjamin either side. They are babies most of the time. Beautiful, cute, smiling babies. Looking at us and laughing that cute baby laugh, gurgling and making cute noises. And the way they are with each other, it is the cutest thing. They love each other. They are happy. 

Sometimes, they are toddlers, and sometimes they are children. Again, Summer in the middle, Jack and Benjamin either side. Always smiling, always laughing. It is my favourite thought to think of and dwell on and brings so much peace and comfort. 

.................................................................

To Jack and Benjamin, 

Sweet boys, you are wonderful. You are incredibly special and so loved. I know very much by your mummies, but also very much by me and Summer. 

Look after my baby girl up there. I know that one day we will meet and, oh, what a joyous day that will be. 

Love you so much gorgeous boys. ☀️💖💙💙

Foot and Hand Print Necklace in memory
of Jack

Star in Memory of Benjamin

Blogmas Day 11 ~ Winter's Story

For those of do not know, Summer actually has a sibling. Although this blog is dedicated and in memory of Summer, I do not want to not acknowledge, honour or talk about first baby who I lost at 6 weeks gestation - whom I later went on to name Winter.

Just because 6 weeks is such an early gestation, and different people will feel and believe differently as to whether or not this is a baby at this early stage - for me personally, the second of conception is a baby. I know it isn't the case for others, and I am not entertaining this debate here, but for me, this is how it is. 

We planned for this baby and we wanted this baby. The minute we found out we were pregnant, we were thrilled. So no matter the development of this baby - she was and is my baby. 

This baby was my first experience of being pregnant, and was my first experience of baby loss. We only knew about her for a week before the bleeding began, and she passed. I refer to her as she now because, although we did not know the gender (as at 6 weeks you don't) I just feel like, and when I think of her, she is a she. 

I don't have as much to share about Winter than I do about Summer, other than to continue to talk about her and to acknowledge her and to also keep her alive. 

I am rather ashamed to say that after losing her, I let myself cry all weekend and then I refused to think about it and forced myself to continue. I guess you could say I went into denial. Then getting pregnant with Summer helped me to continue and not to think or dwell on my lost baby. For that, I feel terrible. 

It wasn't until losing Summer at such a late gestation that I became more aware and knowledgeable of Baby Loss and all that comes with it. One of the things that my eyes were open to was the memory that I had actually lost another child before Summer. And then it all hit me. I wasn't just grieving Summer. I have spent the past few months grieving my other baby too, as well as Summer. 

From reading books by Zoe Clark-Coates, I came to the realisation that although my first baby was only 6 weeks gestation, she was still my baby. I stopped letting myself use language like "only 6 weeks gestation" because, like Zoe, I really believe that my baby is still my baby. She still existed and she still matters. She was still wanted and she is still loved. Very much. 

Reading Zoe's books have helped me to heal (and continue to help me to heal) and validate my feelings of pain, confusion, frustration, They have have helped me to stop caring what others may think about me and how I act, or what I say during my grief and about my babies and have helped me to acknowledge and honour my babies in a way that my heart desires. 

In the end, I decided to name our first child and because we didn't know the gender, I picked a gender neutral name that I felt fitted with Summer. So I called her Winter. 

Although that is literally all I have to share about Winter, she will forever be my first born, my precious and loved baby and Summer's sister. I love to dwell on the image of them both together in Heaven in the arms of Jesus. Safe, whole, perfect and loved. And I know that one day I will be with them again. 

Snowflake Tattoo in memory of Winter
(sadly the only thing I have in memory
of her)

Candles lit for both my babies during 
Baby Loss Awareness Week
2021

Blogmas Day 10 ~ My Pregnancy with Summer

Rich, Me, Bushra and Summer Bump

 My pregnancy with Summer is a part of my life that I will look back on, remember and cling onto for the rest of my life. 

Although my pregnancy ended in my second trimester, I thought I would share my experience of being pregnant. After all - I was still pregnant. 

So shortly after losing my first baby at 6 weeks, back in February, we found out we got pregnant again very very quickly. I believe it was within a week, by the time I did a pregnancy test and did the maths. I think the first pregnancy test I did flashed up and said 2+ weeks on the little window. I remember feeling a mixture of emotions. Extremely happy and excited, but also shocked and terrified. Again, although we had tried again, we did not expect it to be so quick. I was elated because we really wanted a baby, but I was terrified and nervous because I had just lost one and I was anxious that we would have to go through it again. 

I told Rich and we decided not to get our hopes up. 

A week later, I took another pregnancy test to check and the little message on the window said 3+ weeks. I waiting another week and did another. Again, it flashed up 3+ weeks. I was definitely pregnant. 

I really wanted to tell people and share our news, but Rich was hesitant because of our miscarriage and wanted to wait until well after 12 weeks. I understood this, I did, but I couldn't help myself (sorry Rich). 

I rang my GP and he called the EPU and managed to get me booked in for a scan to confirm the pregnancy. He sorted this all out as he was aware I had recently had a miscarriage and said we would not take any chances and I'll get seen relatively quickly. I did. 

I went for a scan and from what I had worked out, I estimated I was 5 weeks + some. At the scan, the sound of a heartbeat filled my ears and warmed my heart. The sonographer confirmed the pregnancy and showed me the screen. There she was, albeit we didn't know her gender at that stage. I cried. This was the first time I saw and heard my baby. And the feeling was the best feeling in the entire world, especially after the sound of silence just a few weeks before. 

When I asked if I was around 5 weeks, the sonographer looked at her screen and told me the scan was estimating I was 7 weeks + some. I was relieved. I had made it past the last milestone point at which I had lost my first baby. 

Summer at 7 weeks

I felt good. Surely this was it. This was the baby we were going to come home with, love and raise for the rest of our lives. 

At 9 weeks I had another scan, because I was bleeding. This caused a little bot of panic and fear of another miscarriage, but I had been told that I would probably bleed throughout my pregnancy because my other Uterus would likely continue it's monthly cycle. 

Thankfully, the scan showed that everything was okay with my baby, who was in my right uterus, and that yes, lefty was having it's period. Relief. Joy, then excited and awe.

I was so excited and on the screen you could see little paddles forming at each side. The sonographer said those were the start of her arms developing and you could even see them moving. I was in fascinated. I was in love. My little paddling baby. 

Summer at 9 weeks

As the weeks went by, I began to experience some of the usual pregnancy symptoms. I became incredibly picky with my food; went completely off chicken, never knew what I wanted to eat until it was put in front of me and then I didn't want it, I became sensitive to smell - not being able to stand the smell of my own favourite perfume. I felt nauseous literally all the time - thankfully I was never actually sick - and the only things that seemed to help were Ginger Biscuits, Werther's Originals, Sprite and Cherry-ade. I was obsessed with all of those things. Oh. and also Tomato Puree. That was probably my strangest craving. I would have it on literally anything I could. I would also sleep ALL the time during my first trimester. I would get up, go to work, come home and nap, wake up for my tea and go to bed again. Then do it all again the next day. 

We reached the 12 week milestone and I was relieved. Though I still had the knowledge that because of my Didelphic Uterus, I was still at risk of Miscarriage and Premature Birth. These things scared me and caused me a bit of stress and anxiety but I would try not to let my mind dwell on those thoughts. I was just so happy to have reached the end of the first trimester, In my second trimester, I started to experience itchiness, in particular my hands and feet and for a week or so, my breasts. All the other symptoms I had in my first trimester regarding food and smell continued, but the nausea stopped.

I had my 12 weeks scan at 13 weeks and everything was well. The sonographers, the consultants and the midwives were extremely happy with how my baby was developing and growing and booked to see me again at 20 weeks, where they said that they could give a prediction of the gender if we wanted to know. 

Summer at 12 weeks

I definitely wanted to know. And the thought of waiting 7 weeks was too long. A week after our 12 week scan, we invited my mum and dad round for lunch in the garden, so that we could tell them we were pregnant. We were a bit nervous to tell them but they were so happy for us when we did. My mum said she would get us a Private Scan and so I booked one at 16 weeks and went with my Mum, Dad and Nana to find out the gender of our little one. Rich didn't come because we had his son that weekend and we had agreed that we would wait a few more weeks to tell him just in case anything happened. But Rich all along had said that we were having a girl. 

Turns out he was right! At the gender scan, the sonographer showed us on the big screen everything she could see. At first I held my breath because I was anxious that we wouldn't hear a heartbeat and that she would find something wrong. She didn't and the sound of my baby's heartbeat filled the room. It was music to my ears. There she was, alive and well. And kicking! 

Summer at 16 weeks (Gender Scan)

The sonographer showed us around and confirmed there was not a pregnancy in my left uterus, and that the right one that Summer was is was expanding and growing well. She said everything looked perfect and went on to ask if we wanted to know the gender. She confirmed Rich's gut instinct. We were going to have a little girl!

Summer was perfectly developed. The sonographer showed us and took pictures on her feet, he side profiles and even switched the scan to 4D mode to see if we could see her facial features yet. Every time she flicked it to 4D mode, we saw my baby's face briefly. Her closed eyes, her perfect nose and little mouth. She was beautiful. However, she wasn't having any of it and kept putting her arms up in front of her face, as if to hide herself from the camera. It was so funny, and very cute. 

The sonographer then kept the scan in 2D mode and my baby girl was wriggling around and kicking like there was no tomorrow. I asked if it was unusual that I could not feel any movement or kicking and the sonographer informed me that my placenta was attached to the front wall of my uterus (Anterior Placenta) and therefore I probably would not feel any movement until later on in the pregnancy when baby is much bigger. 

Summer at 16 weeks kicking Mummy

I was so happy and I will treasure the memories of being in that scanning room, seeing my bay girl forever. 

My next scan with the hospital we were at and my consultation with my midwife and consultant was to be at 20 weeks. So it wasn't too long in between the scans, and it quickly came round.

I went to Barnsley Women's Centre and had my whooping cough vaccine and my 20 week scan. Again, I saw my baby and heard her strong heartbeat. The sonographers there asked if I wanted to know the gender and I told them that I did want them to tell me because, although I knew, I was curious to see if they would confirm or if there was anyway the Gender Scan has been wrong. It hadn't and they confirmed I was having a little girl. 

Summer at 20 weeks

The midwife popped her head in and said that because everything was looking so perfect and absolutely fine, the consultant did not need to see me in clinic and he would see me again at 28 weeks, for a consultation, and then my regular, 4 weekly scans would commence and continue for the remainder of my pregnancy. 

I left the hospital that day feeling beyond excited, happy and relieved. 

Little did I know that just a week + some days later, my pregnancy would end. 

Although I did not really enjoy my first trimester of pregnancy, because of the nausea, the exhaustion and the way my body changed, after the way my pregnancy ended, I wholeheartedly feel that I would go through it all again and worse (as in pregnancy symptoms) if it meant that I was pregnant and going to have and bring home my living, healthy baby. I miss being pregnant so much and look forward to the day I am again. 🌞💖

Summer at 7 weeks, 9 weeks and 12 weeks

Summer at 21 weeks and 2 days