Tuesday 2 July 2013

Blog 16 : More is in You

I have found myself drawn to a quote time and time again, mostly via pinterest, but it pretty much sums up dealing with babyloss to a tee. That quote is:

"You never know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have"

I am a man, and with that title comes certain pre-requisites unfortunately. Men are strong, men don't cry, men don't show emotion to name but a few. Becoming a dad 3 and a half years ago blew the last two out of the water. The wonder and amazement of fatherhood basically made me an emotional wreck, even more so after the birth of Mia. I have never cried so much as that one night that Mia was with us. Something happened that night that I didn't even know could happen, I used up all my tears, temporarily. I was lying on my bed at the hospital, trying to get some sleep as I was advised. It was never going to happen when Mia was fighting for her life in the other room but I did as I was told. It was here that my tears dried up. It wasn't because I'd stopped caring, far from it, it wasn't because I'd slipped back into "man mode", as I don't think I'll ever go back there. It was because I'd cried too much. I lay there, a million thoughts running through my head, and started to cry (again) but this time, no tears came out. I was doing everything else that I normally do when I cry, but no tears. I see that as proof that nothing compares to the pain suffered as a parent dealing with babyloss. 

The one element that I've not yet touched on is Strength. I have a strong exterior, I'm a man, I have to have that. But inside, I'm not strong. Inside is torn apart, damaged beyond repair. The wounds that I have inside of me can't be healed but I've always had to make sure the exterior covers this up. I couldn't carry on if I displayed on the outside, what I felt on the inside. If I wore my heart on my sleeve, it wouldn't be pretty and I'd feel sorry for the rest of you out there. The thing that has developed more than anything over the past 13 months is my exterior strength. 

I am not a life coach, nor a counsellor, and I'm certainly no expert, all I've done is live through it and I've managed to find what works for me. I have mentioned before that the strength that Mia had has been transferred to me and Vik, but i probably now realise that it's us that gave Mia that strength. It's a strength that I never knew I had, and I'm pretty sure Vik didn't know she had it. Vik will tell you that she's not strong, and that she doesn't feel strong, but quite frankly she's a liar. She has amazing strength, we both do, and as the quote says we didn't realise until it was our only option. One of the biggest battles I've faced during this time is when I wake up on a bad day, trying to shake that feeling. It was impossible in the first 6 months, if I woke up feeling that way, I'd go to bed feeling that way and it would last for days, maybe even weeks. The thing that I am most proud of now is that if I wake up feeling that way, and it definitely still happens, and I don't expect it to ever stop, is that I can shake it off within a couple of hours. I've found a channel in which to focus positively rather than let the grief take over my whole body. That channel is the thought that I am going to help other people and create a lasting legacy for Mia. Forget the Olympic legacy, everyone has pretty much forgotten about the London 2012, but Mia's legacy is something that I am determined will last for much much longer.

A lot of people that read this will already know that Vik and I are currently setting up a non profit organisation in Mia's memory to raise much needed funds for the neonatal unit at the Liverpool Women's Hospital. And this is the positive channel that I can now focus on. My head is full of ideas for the organisation and I'm desperate now to get the ball rolling. I have big ideas and I would love it in a few years if we have developed into a full registered charity of our own, but that's the long term. The short term is that we've already got 3 events planned in for 2013, more details to follow when the website is launched and 2014 is going to be a big year for us. 

A friend has recently completed the Deloitte Ride Across Britain, cycling from John O Groats to Lands End and the tag line from that ride was "More is in You". And the truth is that you never really know just how much more is in you until it really matters, that's what we've found out this past year. There are times when I have thought that there was nothing left in me, that I had nothing left to give but I am still here to tell the story, and I'm now here to help others and prove that there is so much more in me. 

We will make our organisation a success, there is no doubt about that as we have a motivating factor that can't be put into words. We can't have Mia here with us, but we can keep her memory alive by creating a lasting legacy for her. When we succeed with this project, it will prove to everyone that Mia's life wasn't wasted. Of course we'd rather have her here with us, there is nothing in the world we want more, but if we can help others that may be faced with this in the future then I'll be happy.

Saturday 22 June 2013

Blog 15 : June 2013

June 2013 has been a strange month. Many milestones have passed in June, obviously most significantly it was Mia's birthday and anniversary. Very differing occasions as the names suggest and the differing emotions that each day brought could not have been further apart. 

Those that have not suffered this sense of loss will not understand this, but the birthday of a lost child is just as special as the birthday of our other children, the ones that are here with us every day, the ones  we get to organise parties for and take out for their birthdays. Just as our other children, a lot of planning goes into the birthday. Granted, there are big differences with the preparations, and celebrations but still, it's your child's birthday. Instead of looking for presents for our little girl to play with on her 1st birthday, we were searching for nice things to display in her garden, things that symbolise our love for our angel in heaven. There were many visitors to Mia's Garden, all bringing different gifts, all beautiful in their own way, each one a reflection of the bearers thoughts of Mia. There were flowers, teddys, ornaments, hand crafted wooden keepsakes, balloons,  poems, all very personal of their feelings to Mia. Mia's birthday was a really beautiful day. Little Miss Sunshine had done her job, the hottest week of the year was delivered for the birthday celebrations, she knew that we wanted to have a picnic with her. So after visiting Mia in the morning to give her all the presents, just as we do with Kyran, he gets his presents first thing in the morning, we visited again at lunchtime to have our picnic with the birthday girl. A happy day with lots of happy thoughts drew peacefully to a close. We never knew that the birthday of a beautiful baby girl, now an angel could be so beautiful. 

The following day, Mia's anniversary, was quite different. The mood had changed significantly, there was an air of inevitability around the place. We had planned a balloon release at 14:55, which symbolised the end of Mia's short 31 hours and 21 minutes with us. The sad thing about the anniversary day was that it was like a countdown, counting down to the moment that no one wanted to arrive. We released the balloons and 12 months of emotion came flooding out, it was almost as though the clocks had been turned back a year, the feelings were so raw.

Another significant day passed on the 18th of the month, which was when we buried our princess. Although I tried not to think about it too much, grief had other ideas for me. Leading up to lunchtime, all I could think of was carrying Mia's small white coffin into the cemetery chapel, no matter how hard I tried to block it out of my mind the visions were still there. Then, at 12pm, the time of Mia's service, Rule the World by Take That came on the radio. Now this isn't one of Mia's songs, but still it is one of those that remind us of her. Some of the words just fit perfectly for Mia "You light, the skies, up above me, a star, so bright, you blind me", after all she is the brightest star in the sky. And "Don't close your eyes, don't fade away, don't fade away" symbolises the hope for a miracle that we felt while she was with us. Sat in my office that day, I believe that song was a message from Mia.

June was also a significant month where we decided that the time was right to start giving something back. The idea of fund raising was born the month before but it really progressed in June. We visited the Liverpool Women's Hospital to meet with the charitable fund raiser there and made a commitment to support the neonatal unit in the future. We also have a meeting planned with the CEO of the hospital at the beginning of July. It's this second meeting, with Kathy Thompson, the CEO of the hospital that makes us want to help the hospital even more. Kathy doesn't need to meet us, she is a very busy lady doing great work for an amazing hospital, but she is making time in her busy schedule to meet with us. This only strengthens a statement I made to Lisa, the charitable fund raiser, that " The Liverpool Women's Hospital is like going private, but on the NHS ". The extra mile that all the staff go is a credit to the hospital. 

Fund raising was always an idea, but in June I was inspired. I was inspired to do this properly. If I'm making a commitment to the hospital, then I want to make it official. I'm currently organising a logo, a website and I'm going to meet someone next week for advice in setting up a non profit organisation to handle the fund raising. It is the person that I am meeting next week that has been the inspiration behind making sure this mission is done properly, his name is David Pope. He set up an organisation in memory of his granddaughter and has just completed an amazing challenge and raised over £3500 for his organisations chosen charities. 9 months ago, David decided to enter the Deloitte Ride Across Britain, and committed to cycle from John O Groats to Lands End, despite not being a regular cyclist. He completed this only last week, and I followed his progress daily, each day coming more admiration and inspiration. You can read his story, blogs, and activities at the below address, links to the twitter and Facebook pages are also well worth following.


It's the above account that echoes the sentiments of another regular blogger on the Internet, known as Fathers Grief. He talks about the network of people out there that are all united by the unwanted bond. These people, most of whom we have never met, or ever likely to meet provide a lot of comfort, and more importantly an understanding of the situation we are in, after all, those that have not lived through baby loss can never understand just how difficult it really is. You can read all of Fathers Grief's posts, inspired by Ethan at the address below, and again, the links to the twitter and Facebook feeds are worth following.


June has been a funny old month. So many emotions have been experienced once again, but I have found a new focus in my life, giving something back and helping others in similar positions. One thing I did learn in June though is that just because a year has passed, doesn't mean that the grief is any different. Unfortunately, there is no 1 year switch that turns the grief off, it's still there, as strong as ever. What is happening though, is that I'm getting stronger, and as long as that continues, I guess I can focus my energies into getting this charity ball rolling.

Friday 14 June 2013

Blog 14 : Fathers Day

Fathers Day 2013 is my second since I lost my princess, Mia Rose. Last year, Fathers Day was only 12 days after we said goodbye to Mia and the day before we laid her to rest so understandably it was not a time for celebration. I have never forgotten that I am Mia's daddy but it can sometimes be difficult when people see us with Kyran, our 3 year old and ask if we're having any more children, or if we've just got the one. The people that ask these questions don't know my situation but in the months after losing Mia, it was too easy and convenient for me to confirm that I've only got 1 child. This however, is so wrong and the guilt felt after telling someone this is unbearable. I'm now in a completely different frame of mind from those early days and can now confidently state that I have 2 children, one of which was too special for this earth. The biggest thing is now, I can say this (most of the time) without crying.  

Fathers Day has always been one of my favourite days of the year, certainly ranked higher than my birthday. We have never really splashed out on Fathers Day, just little things like cups, glasses, key rings etc that say "To My Daddy" or "Worlds Greatest Daddy" on them is all we have ever done. The big difference this year is that these little gifts will be from both of my children, the 2 children that I am so proud of. Kyran, my 3 year old boy makes me proud on a daily basis, whether that be from his spelling and writing or from him coming out of his shy little shell on holiday and suddenly appearing on the stage in front of hundreds of people. Mia made me proud the way she fought for those 31 hours that she was with us. The doctor was surprised she made it through the night and it's that fighting spirit that she had that she has instilled in her mummy and daddy. There is no way that we could have got through this past 12 months without Mia's fighting spirit, and that is why I can now openly say that I am so proud to be Mia's Daddy. 

What I like about Fathers Day is the togetherness and family spirit. It's traditionally a day spent together, our own little family. The toughest thing about these special days is that our little princess isn't with us. Instead of her being here to join in, we have to go to her garden, the only place that we genuinely feel close to her, to involve her in our day. Children should visit their dads on Fathers Day, shouldn't really be the other way round.

Mia may not be here with me like Kyran is, but does that mean that I'm not her daddy? Of course it doesn't, I'm every bit Mia's daddy as I am Kyran's. Mia is included in everything we do, on a daily basis. Mummy and I talk about her all the time, and Kyran is involved in that. He knows who his little sister is and he talks about her openly at will. 

No one can ever take away from me that I am Mia's daddy, and I'm so glad that I can finally say to the world that I am proud of my little girl. I will always talk about Mia, she is just as much a part of me as every other part of my life. Anyone that can't handle that should probably give me a wide berth from now on. I will never forget my princess and anybody that thinks any differently is not worth having around.

I'm looking forward to Fathers Day, it will be a nice day as it always is, but this and every one after this will always have that missing piece, Mia Rose.

Wednesday 22 May 2013

Blog 13 : Giving Something Back

Blog 13 : Giving Something Back

Today, I'm feeling strong, and quite positive. Yesterday, I felt very weak, and pretty negative, tomorrow I'll probably feel that way again. At the moment, that's how it goes, one day up, the next day down and so on. This pattern seems even more erratic with Mia's birthday and anniversary approaching quickly.

The difference between now, and maybe where I was 6 months ago are the thoughts and visions I have on my up days, or strong days. I think being back at the Liverpool Women's Hospital for the memorial service last week has made me realise that I now need to start giving something back to the place that cared for Mia with such diligence, compassion and dignity. Well, that and the fact that Mia's mummy has been talking about jumping over obstacles in the mud to raise money next year. I think we've decided that we want to start fund raising now to help parents and families that are faced with baby loss in the future. 

Our fund raising will be exclusively for the Liverpool Women's Hospital who we feel eternally indebted to after the way they cared for our princess, Mia Rose. We will speak to LWH direct to discuss specific details of where we want the money to go but our first goal, after doing some research is to provide Flexmort cooling cot systems for the hospital. These allow bereaved families to spend more precious time with their babies, and means that babies don't need to be rushed straight off to the bereavement suites to be kept cool. They can stay with the families longer in a comfortable ambient environment and provide some extra bonding time, where those treasured memories can be formed. Some families choose to take baby home, which is made possible with the use of the cooling cot. Had the cooling cot been available to us, Mia may have been able to spend the night with us in her mummy's hospital room. We would love other parents and families to have this opportunity. 

I have recently started cycling so my fundraising will be taking the form of sponsored cycle rides. Some small (ish) ones this year, some bigger ones next year and hopefully building up to the likes of "Lands End to John O Groats" and "L'etape du Tour" in a few years time. 

So I'm guessing that this blog is really a rallying cry. To our families and friends. Let's do this. I'm sure the possibilities are endless of things that we can do to raise money for this amazing place, the Liverpool Women's Hospital. For my own ideas, I need willing cyclists to share these journeys with me, maybe sponsors to help fund some custom cycling gear and basically lots of people who want to make a difference. These are only ideas at the moment, but i need more of them and I need to make them into reality. So who's with me?

Tuesday 21 May 2013

Blog 12 : Contrasting Households

Blog 12 : Contrasting Households 

My best friends have just had a beautiful baby girl. I am absolutely over the moon for them and it was a genuine pleasure to meet her, and hold her little over 24 hours after she was born. Her little fingers so delicate, every inch of her perfect in every way. She is quite rightly the apple of my friends eyes. This has obviously been a difficult time for me, such a major event to have to endure while the grieving process is still so raw, but I am quite proud of the way my wife and I have handled it. I have an enormous amount of gratitude towards my friends for the sensitive way in which they have approached the whole journey with us, allowing us to process the information and events in our own time.

This does not however, detract from the pain that has erupted inside of me. Going to their house to visit them the day after the baby was born just brought back so many emotions, and emphasised our loss so much. Seeing their happy faces and the obvious joy that the new baby brought to the house only emphasised the sorrow and despair that was instilled in us on our return home. I have wrote about this before, but the baby girl cards that sat on the fireplace were in direct contrast to the sympathy cards that were displayed in our house. Our mournful flowers of sympathy were replaced by bright and joyous flowers of congratulations in our friends house. The pink gift bags overflowing with pretty pink clothing was something that we never got to receive, yet we would give anything to have had that experience. 

I am not jealous, as jealous suggests that I don't want my friends to be happy about their families new addition, I am over the moon that they have got their perfect little girl to add to their lovely little boys. What I do feel is cheated. I feel that Mother Nature has let me down, often leaving me asking the question "Why Us?". It's a question that will never be answered unfortunately. 

Sunday 31 March 2013

Blog 11 : Mia's Garden

Blog 11 : Mia's Garden

I'm not a religious person, even less so these days, but I still feel that Easter is a major event. Apart from birthdays, Easter is the first big event of the year and it normally signifies the change in season. The weather tends to turn around Easter time, bringing brighter days, and with it a change in moods. Although there has been a slight change for the better in weather this weekend, unfortunately the same cannot be said for the mood in our house.

The one thing that does lighten the mood this weekend, and it's also one of the only places that I feel happy these days is visiting Mia's Garden.

Mia is buried in a beautiful little baby garden at our local cemetery. Away from the rest of the cemetery, it is a quiet, semi enclosed area where we can go and be with Mia. It's the only place that I feel close to Mia, maybe that's because sadly, it's the only way I know her. The main reason that we call it "Mia's Garden" and not the baby garden or anything else is because it really truly is hers. She was the first in there and with that bestows certain bragging rights, I can just see her in years to come bossing everyone around who comes to play in her garden. At the moment though, it's just Mia and her little friend Charlie, who came to play in Mia's garden just a week after Mia had played out the opening ceremony. 2012 wasn't about Danny Boyle and the Olympics, it was about Mia Rose and her beautiful garden.

Mia was given such a beautiful and dignified send off, laid to rest by her Grandad's & Uncles onto a soft bed of flower petals, at least she'll be comfy. And instead of throwing dirt, we got to throw more petals to Mia, somehow this made things so much more child friendly. It was a little thing that the council had done but made such a big difference.

I think this is the first blog where I mention the word happy, maybe this is a sign that I could be turning a corner, or is it just proof that I need to be doing something for or with Mia to be truly happy. I do have a son, Kyran, who makes me very happy but I'll talk about my responsibilities to him in a future blog.

I'm hoping that the change in season helps to lighten the mood. If not, I can always go to Mia's Garden, sit on the bench with my wife, Vikki and talk to Mia while her big brother rides around the grounds on his bike. For me, that's the most beautiful scene on Earth at the moment.

Wednesday 20 March 2013

Blog 10 : Just For You, Mia

Blog 10 : Just For You, Mia

Mia, I'm going to start off by saying sorry to you. It's my job, as your daddy to protect you, to keep you safe from all that's wrong with this world but I failed. I couldn't do the thing that's the first item on every dads to do list "protect your children". I hope you can forgive me for that Mia. I just want you to know that if there was anything I could have done to save you, absolutely anything, I would have done it. There is nothing I wouldn't have done to have you with us right now.

That's not the only thing that I couldn't do, there's an endless list of things that we will never get to do together. Not just us, but all of us, the whole family. You were the final link in the chain for me and your mum, you completed our perfect little family. You are always with us Mia, we try to include you in everything we do, and we always will, but you know that anyway, don't you? You've seen the little gifts that we bring you back from our days out, of course you have.

I'll never get to hold you, to feel your warmth, to feel you wriggling in my arms but that doesn't mean that I don't love you.
I'll never get to kiss you, to tickle your belly, to make you laugh but that doesn't mean that I don't love you.
I'll never get to bath you, to dress you, to play with your beautiful hair but that doesn't mean that I don't love you.
I'll never get to help you walk, help you to talk, help you to write, help you to grow but that doesn't mean that I don't love you.
I'll never see you go to school, see you develop into a teenager, or get to check out your first boyfriend, but that doesn't mean that I don't love you.
I'll never get to be there for you, to pick up the pieces when you got your heart broken, to give you a hug and tell you that everything will be ok but that doesn't mean that I don't love you.
I'll never get to give you away to the man of your dreams, and tell anybody who will listen that my little girl has grown up into a beautiful young woman, but that doesn't mean that I don't love you.

Basically Mia, there is nothing in this world that can stop me loving you. You are, and always will be my little princess. I am so proud of you for fighting the way you did, just to last overnight was a little miracle, but I know you were holding out for your mummy. You couldn't have left us without spending some time with her. The strength you shown in that short time was amazing, I only hope that I have got the same strength in me because that's the only way that I'll get through this.

We talk about you all the time Mia and we all miss you so much. You've seen your big brother waving to you in the sky, he even tells us that he loves you and misses you, we'll make sure that he never forgets you. I like to think of you as a star in the sky, Auntie Jenny & Uncle Adam even named a star for you, and that's what Kyran knows you as, the brightest star in the sky. You'll always be there, looking down us and I know you'll always look after us, it's a comforting feeling knowing that I have my own Guardian Angel here for me.

I've said this in a previous post Mia, but when we said goodbye to you, a part of me died, a part of me went with you, a part of my heart went with you, I'm not the same person that I was. When we do meet again, and I get the piece of my heart back, I've got something for you too. It's a big kiss for my baby girl and a nice tight cuddle from your daddy. Only then will we able to close this chapter, so really, I guess this is a story that never ends, and there is definitely no happy ending.

Until we meet again, I love you so much Mia Rose, my little princess.

Sunday 17 March 2013

Blog 9 : A Dad in Grief : Grieving the Future

Blog 9 : A Dad in Grief : Grieving the Future

As any parent or parent to be will know, the 9 months of pregnancy is spent preparing for the arrival of your new baby. The first 12 weeks are generally quite low key, you tend not to tell anybody unless you really have to as that first scan is the first big milestone. You sometimes pick up some bits and bobs after the 12 week scan but generally you wait until 20 weeks to really start preparing for the arrival of the new addition to the family. With both of our pregnancies, we have spent the second half of the pregnancy meticulously planning not only for the arrival, but for the whole life of that little person. Whether it be a good thing or not, my wife and I both display tendencies of OCD!

Bringing a baby into the world is a truly wondrous experience, after all, it is what we are put on this earth to do, to procreate. The second child is always more difficult to prepare for, the logistics need to be considered. How old is your first child, what time do they go to bed, nursery, school, there is so much to consider. That's why, with Mia, we had already mapped out so much of her early life for her. We didn't know we were having a girl, but deep down we both suspected we were, all the signs were there. The most significant of signs was when we ordered the pram. The pram comes as standard black and you add colour packs to give it the colour you want. We had always talked about if we had a girl we would want a plum coloured pram and when we ordered it, it was on offer. The stand out thing about the offer was that it came with the plum colour pack as it was the only one available at the time. "You can change it for another colour when baby arrives" the lady in the shop said. Obviously, it was great that we could, but really, we both knew that we wouldn't need to. We knew what kind of clothes she would be wearing and when, we had thought about how old she would be at her first Christmas and what toys we would get her. We'd even planned her Christmas outfit and where her presents were going to be on Christmas morning.

This is what sets the grief you feel after losing a baby aside from what I am going to call "normal" grief. It is part of evolution and the laws of the universe that as human beings, we are likely to lose our parents and grandparents at some time in our lives. The grief you feel after this is what I refer to above, normal grief. At times when you are finding things hard, you can think back to all those lovely memories you shared, you can look through the albums of photos that you have and simply reminisce. This is what is missing with baby loss. The photos that you have are very limited, but so very treasured, and the memories that you have are both the happiest and most devastating of your life, but are always there as the stark reminder of what you should have, and the life that you should be able to share together.

I think this is what makes baby loss so hard to deal with. Every day is filled with so many "what if's" and "if onlys" that it can often be hard to think of anything else. It can be the little day to day things that can upset you, the simple things like she'd be starting nursery today, she'd be starting to walk/talk now but it's the big events that really upset me. My wife had always dreamt of taking her little girl to dance classes and on girlie pamper days and we had planned the dream holiday to Florida in 2016 when our little boy, Kyran would be 6, and our new arrival, Mia would be 4, and old enough to appreciate the wonders of Walt Disney World. But the thing that upsets me more than anything else, and I often have trouble getting the thoughts out of my head, is thinking about what would be my little girls wedding day. I have been a groom, I've been a best man and had to make speeches for both, but I'll never get to complete my set of speeches, I'll never get to give that Father of the Bride speech. The whole subject of weddings now upsets me deeply, who'd have thought that when my wife was watching Home and Away that I'd be sat on the couch crying because Alf Stewart got to make his Father of the Bride speech? It's not just the speech that gets me, it's the whole thing, I'll never get to make that car journey with Mia on the way to her wedding, where I tell her how much I love her and how proud I am of her and I won't get to walk her down the aisle and give her beautiful hand to my future son in law.

So when you lose your baby, it's not only the baby that you lose, it's that babies future, it's all the things that you planned as a family. The grief you feel is not just for your immediate loss, but the endless list of 'firsts' that you will never get to experience. I think that's why baby loss is so hard to deal with, the grief never ends.

Thursday 7 March 2013

Blog 8 : The Mask

Blog 8 : The Mask I Wear

When I returned home from the hospital the day after saying goodbye to Mia, I was surprised to see something at the side of my bed. It wasn't there when I left 2 days before and I wasn't completely sure what it was for. I left it where it was for a while, still unsure if I should use it or not.

I finally decided to use it when I went back to work, this was a month after we said goodbye to Mia. I put it over my head and there it was, it was a mask that had been left by my bed. Only you can't see it when its on.

It's not easy wearing the mask, it takes a lot of effort but it protects me from the outside world, I feel safe when I've got it on. I put it on when I leave the house and keep it on until I return back home, it's not safe to take it off anywhere else. The mask is making every effort to free itself from my head, but I can't let it go. Its keeping my feelings in check, the world isn't ready to hear my feelings face to face yet, and I don't think I'm ready to share them yet.

The mask does have a weakness though. It doesn't cover my eyes. If I drop my guard for a second at all and you manage to make eye contact, you'll see. You'll see the pain, deep in my eyes. You'll be able to see how deep it goes, deep into my core, you'll see that there's something missing inside me. You'll see that there's a piece of my heart that's gone, my precious little Mia took it with her. I don't begrudge her that, she needs a piece of her daddy with her. This explains the emptiness I feel, but it also means that I'll feel the emptiness forever. The emptiness will only disappear when we meet again.

Until that day Mia, look after that piece of my heart, because I do want it back. But I know when I get it back, I get you back. So just remember this princess, your daddy loves you very much and is so proud of you so until we meet again, look down on us all and keep us all safe.

Wednesday 6 March 2013

Blog 7 : Crying Yourself to Sleep

This is a short post about an experience I had last night. I was watching the final episode of Ricky Gervais new series, Derek, in bed. For those of you who watch Derek, I'm sure you will agree that it can be quite emotional at times. The underlying message of Derek to me is human kindness, a quality that as a society I think we are distinctly lacking in. Last nights episode took this to a new level.

Ultimately, it is not Derek's kindness that affected me last night, although it was already tugging at my much weakened heart strings long before the killer blow. I was lying in bed, head phones in, iPad on my knee when I felt the first tear roll down my cheek. This came as no shock to me as I had been filling up for probably 10 minutes before that, but as I heard the familiar organ introduction to Fix You start to play, I lost control. As the song so beautifully states "and the tears come streaming down your face, when you lose something you can't replace", I felt like I'd hit in the chest with a sledge hammer. The tears were uncontrollably streaming down my face, as all I could think about was what I couldn't replace, my little Angel in Heaven, Mia Rose.

Now if I've cried to this song once, I've cried to it a hundred times but last night I wasn't prepared for it lasting over an hour. I ended up looking through Mia's pictures, desperately trying to stifle my sobs and sniffs so as not to wake my wife who was asleep next to me. I eventually managed to calm myself down and I drifted off to sleep but last night was a vivid reminder that the pain doesn't go away, it's always there, under the surface just waiting for that moment of weakness where it can totally engulf your whole body and mind.

Monday 4 March 2013

Blog 6 : 9 Months


Blog 6 : 9 Months 

It is 9 months now since my princess was born. I can't work out whether the time has passed quickly or not at the moment. On one hand, the time seems to have dragged like you wouldn't believe, the differing emotions that I feel from day to day making the days seem never ending and sometimes it feels like time is standing still. While, on the other hand it feels like it happened only yesterday. I can still relive the time Mia was with us down to the smallest detail and I'll often find myself drifting away into the most vivid of daydreams where I genuinely believe I'm living the whole thing again. One thing I do know is that 9 months is the time that my amazing wife carried Mia for and I guess the significance of that time frame is why I'm finding today so difficult.  

9 months is a long time. It's a time that expecting parents use to prepare for the arrival of a new baby. It's a time during which you never comprehend that at the end of it you won't actually get to take your baby home with you. It's a time in which you effectively plan your babies life although I'll be talking about that in a future blog called 'Grieving the Future'.  

I think today helps me to comprehend the extra grief and heartache that my wife feels as I can relate the 9 months of pain that I've lived through to the 9 months of kicks, wriggles and physical and emotional bonds that were built during pregnancy. I think my wife is a truly amazing woman, the strength she has shown throughout this has been unbelievable. I know how hard it is for her to even get out of bed in the morning, never mind being an absolutely incredible mummy to Kyran & Mia and the perfect wife to me. But every day, she does it. 

Today has been hard, tomorrow will be even harder, but as long as I know that I've got my beautiful wife Vikki and my adorable son Kyran with me, all with our Angel Mia looking down on us, we'll be ok. I have no idea how long it will take, and it's not something that I can walk away from but this is the hand that we've been dealt, and one way or another we'll get through it.

Sunday 3 March 2013

Blog 5 : A Dad in Grief : Saying Goodbye


Blog 5 : A Dad in Grief : Saying Goodbye 

I have tried many times to describe how I felt the weeks and months after saying goodbye to Mia but the only one that has ever fitted is this. It was as if I was trapped inside a bubble, I was stumbling around at 10mph yet the world outside my bubble was travelling at 70mph. I could see the outside world getting on with their lives as if nothing had happened, but of course they were, and they had every right to, their lives hadn't been shattered into a million pieces the way mine had. The sounds of everyday life passed me by too, it was if I was listening to the world from underwater, like when you go to the swimming pool and you hear the muffled voices and laughs when your head dips below the surface. That's what life was like from inside my bubble. I felt as though the whole world was talking about me, like they were all staring at me. When I saw the groups of women talking in the coffee shops, the shoppers in the supermarkets, I felt as though I was their one and only topic of conversation. I know I wasn't, but that's the way it feels, like all eyes are on you. 

The dining room table soon resembled the window display of a high class florist, floral gifts arriving a few times a day and the postman certainly earned his wages, handfuls of sympathy cards arriving each day. This in itself is so so wrong, they should have been "It's a Girl" cards, all happy and pink, instead we we were faced with hoards of sympathy cards, the majority of which are not meant for beautiful baby girls. 

The funeral had to be arranged but I simply couldn't bear to make the call. I couldn't admit that I had to arrange a funeral for my baby girl. A family member made the call for us and the funeral director visited us later that week. So now we had to try and plan a fitting tribute for our beautiful little baby girl. We set about arranging the perfect send off for our princess, after all, it was the only thing we could now do for her. 

The day that we had been dreading was here, it was the day of Mia's funeral. Little Miss Sunshine had worked her magic again, here was a sunny day sandwiched between horrible rainy days. Guests started to arrive at the house mid morning, Mia was already at the house. Mummy and Daddy had spent some time alone with her before family and friends arrived. Her small white coffin was near the table displaying all the flowers that had been delivered.  

We had decided that Mia's funeral was to be a colourful affair and we were quite overwhelmed as we approached the cemetery chapel. The amount of people that had gathered there, all looking very colourful touched us deeply. We will be forever grateful to everyone that supported us that day, it showed us that Mia was loved. She managed to touch many people in those few hours she was fighting with us. For someone so small and vulnerable, she had an amazing power. 

It's a dads job to protect his little girl, I never got to do that for Mia, she had the angels to protect her. I can accept that, but there were certain things that I had to do for my princess, I wanted to make her proud of her daddy. It was me that was to carry her coffin, that was nobody else's job but mine and I had prepared a reading on behalf of my wife and I that I would read at the service. Writing those words was so hard, and I think I cried the whole time I was writing them, but I seen this as one of the roles of the job I introduced in blog 3, the Dad in Grief. I read them without a tear at the service, how I did this I will never know, I can only imagine that Mia wanted her daddy to be strong, and I know I certainly didn't want to let my princess down. The same can be said for carrying my Angel into the service, how my legs carried me safely I don't know, they felt like jelly the whole time. Even now, if I have an important meeting in work, a presentation or I just feel I need some of Mia's strength with me, I wear the tie that I wore that day. I call it my Mia tie. 

There was a strange atmosphere the evening of the funeral, I seemed to have been released from my bubble for a few hours. It was as though a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders, I could see clearly again, I could hear things properly, I seemed to be travelling at the same pace as everybody else again. I went to bed with my head the clearest it had been for 2 weeks, maybe things change after the funeral? I woke the next morning, I'd come flying back down to earth at an incredible pace, the weight that was lifted the night before was back, but twice as heavy, I was back under water, I had reverted back into slow motion. I was back in my bubble, trapped, and there was nothing I could do about it. The only question is, for how long?

Thursday 28 February 2013

Blog 4 : A Dad in Grief : The Nickname & the Sign

Written on 27th February 2013
 
Blog 4 : A Dad in Grief : The Nickname & the Sign 

A person that has shown themselves to be a real true friend gave Mia a nickname. Now, I don't normally associate babies with having nicknames but this one fits perfectly, and I'll explain why, partly in this blog, but the theme will continue in future blogs. 

Mia was due on Saturday 2nd June. I remember the weekend vividly, it was the Queens Diamond Jubilee Weekend and it did nothing but rain for the whole time. I caught bits of the river pageant that was held on the Thames on the Sunday and remember thinking how miserable it looked. So it was with great surprise that when my wife went into labour on the Monday morning that the sun appeared to be shining on a dry day! Amazingly, the sunny dry weather lasted until about 4pm the following day, which was about an hour after we said goodbye to Mia. Cue the rain, cue the nickname, Little Miss Sunshine.  

We returned home the day after Mia left us. We had the opportunity to spend some more time with her before we left the hospital, to tell her how we felt. She looked absolutely perfect lying there in the Moses Basket, she looked like she was sleeping, like she would open her eyes at any minute and start to cry. She never did. Unlike the many families that left the hospital that afternoon with their precious new additions, we left with a small white memory box.  

It was on the drive home that we seen something that we will always consider a sign. Coming onto the M62 at the rocket, there, right in front of us was the most vivid rainbow I've ever seen. My wife and I looked at each other, held hands as I drove, cried, but knew that it was a message from our princess. She was looking over us on our drive home. The rainbow now holds a significant meaning to us, so much so that it holds pride of place on Mia's headstone. It may be ironic, it may be coincidence, it may just be that I notice them more now, but since that moment on the M62 I've never seen so many rainbows. I like to think of it not as irony though, I like to think that it's Mia, checking up on me, making sure I'm ok as the rainbows always seem to appear when I'm feeling down. She has a habit of showing herself when I need her the most, she can obviously see her Daddy hurting. I feel so happy when I see a rainbow now, but I can't look at one with a dry eye. 
 
They are tears of joy, yet they are underpinned by the deepest hurt you could ever imagine. 

Tuesday 26 February 2013

Blog 3 : Becoming A Dad in Grief

Written on 26th February 2013

Blog 3 : Becoming A Dad in Grief 

Most people have a job that is an enjoyable experience, or at a minimum gives them money to pay the bills. I have one of those. However, I also have another job. It's a job that I didn't want, a job that I don't enjoy and it certainly doesn't provide any money. That job is being a dad in grief. 

It starts hard and doesn't really get any easier.  A dads first job is normally to send a happy "Welcome to the World" message to family and friends, unfortunately, my first job was to inform them that there were problems and we had a very sick little girl. Not only did I have a critically ill little princess, I also had a wife recovering from surgery who was given so much medicine she wasn't fully aware of what was going on. How do I tell my wife that our beautiful baby girl is fighting for her life?  

In 31 hours, Mia had lots of visits from our family and friends. As my wife was recovering from the operation, it was my job to greet people, brief them, take them to the neonatal ward to say hello to Mia. I am not complaining at having to do this, it comes with the job, but after telling the 10th set of visitors what had happened, and how ill my daughter was, it started to get quite draining. The 31 hours and 21 minutes ended when we said goodbye to our princess, my thoughts and feelings around that time will remain private. I slept that night, unlike my wife, who stayed awake all night crying with the midwife. The guilt I felt when I woke up that I had left my grieving wife alone all night was unbearable. 

For most people, 2 days after your baby is  born, you'd be thinking about going home, introducing them to their new surroundings, laying them down in their Moses basket, looking forward to taking them out in their shiny new pram. I did go home that morning, but it was to go and pack all those things away into their boxes to be returned to the shops. I needed to do this before bringing my wife home, I couldn't let her come home to that.  

Nothing prepares you for the things that you deal with in the hours and days after you lose your baby, adrenaline alone gets you through it. There is a registry office in the hospital. Registering your babies birth is a momentous occasion, it's the first time that you see your babies name in print officially, and that name you have chosen for your baby is with them forever. I made my appointment with the registrar, but this time around the appointment had 2 purposes, the registration of both the birth and the death of Mia Rose Greenall. Again, this is something that I didn't want my wife to have to go through, I felt I needed to protect her from even more heartache. I made the appointment alone, I couldn't put her through that after all she had just been through herself. I came back from the registry office to a visit from the family bereavement councillor. Hearing what you have to do to arrange a funeral for your new born baby is a conversation that I certainly never thought I'd be a part of.
 
It was at this point when I thought that all of a sudden I'd wake up from this dream, no, nightmare, and Mia would be lying in a cot at the side of her mum's bed. But I didnt wake up. I didn't wake up because I wasn't asleep. This was real, and I had to accept that, because I knew that this was with me for the rest of my life. On the 5th June 2013, a part of me died with Mia, not to be returned until we are reunited.

Blog 2 : Things People Say

Written on 23rd February 2013

Blog 2 : Things People Say 
 

It's common that people don't like talking about baby loss. Some people do talk about it and somehow know the right words to say. Some people just listen, allow me to talk and don't really say much in return, this probably helps more than anything. There are also people who try to offer words of help but the words just come out wrong. These are some of the things that have been said to me that are simply the most insulting words that you could say.

 "Things happen for a reason" - If this is the case, tell me the reason. Tell me why "God" decided to take my baby away and let scruffs and smack heads have multiple children that they don't even care for. If you can't give me the reason, don't say it.

"You'll be ok, you've got Kyran" - Yes, I have got Kyran, and he is perfect but does that mean that I'll be ok? Yes he helps me, but does that mean he makes up for the fact that I lost Mia? I should have 2 beautiful children with me, I've only got 1. 

Some people talk about Mia, but say things like "I wonder what she'd look like now" or "she'd be crawling/walking now". Please don't say things like that, these are the things that are constantly on my mind, the things that are always in my head when I sleep, the things that eat me up inside day in day out. It really would be better if you didn't say these types of things to me.

The important thing to remember is that if you think you're going to put your foot in it, that you're going to upset me, or that you'll say the wrong thing, it's probably best not to say it. But a hand on the shoulder and a genuine "How are you?" goes a lot further than you will probably imagine. The knowledge that you are still thinking about me is probably the most comforting thing to hold onto at the moment.




Blog 1 : My True Feelings

Written on 22nd February 2012

Blog 1 : My True Feelings 

It's nearly 9 months now since my princess, Mia Rose was taken away. She was a full term baby, there is no way this should have happened to her. I thought I would be starting to feel better by now, but there are still times when it feels like it happened only yesterday and it feels like my world could just collapse at any second. 

I feel a lot of anger at the moment, not at the medical staff or anything to do with the events around Mia's birth, but at the people that I feel have let me down in the time since. So many people are quick to offer condolences and support in the days and weeks after the event, but it doesn't take long for this to disappear. The phone calls stop, the text messages stop and you are pretty much left on your own to deal with the most difficult thing that any human will ever have to deal with. At a time that you feel you should be surrounded by all the people that you thought cared about you, you suddenly find yourself virtually alone, with only your own thoughts for company. If I look at my phone, I realise that I was probably in people's thoughts for a month, maybe two before being left to get on with it.  

It's a common problem that people don't like talking about baby loss, why this is I don't know. If more people talked about it, and so called friends hadn't disappeared, then I wouldn't find myself needing counselling, but unfortunately that is the situation I find myself in.  

There are also the people who think that everything is solved by going for a beer. If you knew me, or tried to even think about what I've been through, maybe you'd realise that the last thing I'd want to do is go out drinking. All I want is to feel that I'm in people's thoughts, and for every now and then, people to ask me how I am, and actually genuinely mean it. These moments are few and far between. 

Despite all the negative thoughts above, there have been some positives. There are certain people that we have become closer to as a result of this. There are certain people who just seem to have the right words, and are not ashamed to share them.  

One thing to remember, is that when you speak to me, text me, tweet me or facebook me, I know whether you are genuinely concerned or not. I am eternally grateful for having the genuine people around me, but refuse to waste any more time on the others.