Difficult and hard to please

Sometimes, it's hard to say the right thing to me, sometimes I'm an awkward bugger and nothing you say or don't say will be right. I'm grieving, and pretty much reserve the right to sometimes be awkward, and possibly a bitch.
Sometimes, people I love and who I know love me say the "wrong" thing and I don't mind one bit, because I know their heart is good.
Mostly, I'm blessed to have a life full of wonderful friends who are truly supportive.
Christmas though means that on occasion I've been out of my comfort zone, of home, my family, my closest friends, and "out there" with extended family and family friends, all of whom I know do have a heart, and probably do care,but for whatever reason choose to ignore my beautiful daughter, choose to not say her name. Maybe they are afraid I will cry.
There is the odd stroke of my arm and a meaningful "how are you ?" and I appreciate that, but it cuts me like a knife when Florence is glossed over, ignored, forgotten.
I guess by next Christmas she'll be nothing more than a footnote.

All Done

I can hear the rain outside, I haven't looked out of the window yet,but I imagine the rain has washed away most of the snow by now.
Christmas is done.I'm glad.
The decorations will stay up until New Years day,but that's it Christmas 2009 is over.
You know, actually it wasn't that bad,it wasn't that different to our usual Christmas'. The kids got up early, we opened presents, we ate too much chocolate.
The only difference was the visit to the cemetery in the morning. We took Florence a helium filled Christmas balloon, some roses, and some decorated gingerbread biscuits.(for the birds). We had to use a flask of hot water to defrost her headstone, and to release the frozen roses from their vase,it was cold and snowy. I tried not to worry that Florence was cold under the snow, I always remind myself that she was buried in cashmere booties to keep her toes cosy.
The cemetery was the busiest I've ever seen it. I'm rarely there alone, but on Christmas day there was even difficulty parking, there was almost a party atmosphere. I found it really touching to see so many people visiting their loved ones. Yes, some were red eyed from crying,but some were smiling, and some even having the odd snowball fight.
I rarely cry at Florence's graveside,but the tears were stinging my eyes, and I found it harder to leave than usual. I just wished she could come home with us,to the warm.

Christmas evening we lit a paper lantern for Florence, the children watched from an upstairs window, Woody and I from the garden, we could see it's light floating waaay off into the distance for longer than we imagined we would.Christmas wishes and kisses for our much loved and much missed baby girl.

Christmas Light

Christmas Light, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

For Florence, we miss you sweetheart.x

Christmas Eve

I don't believe in fate, I don't believe things "happen for a reason", maybe I did once.I'm not at all offended by those that do, but for me to believe in fate or in reasons would imply divine intervention, and I definitely don't believe in that.
I guess I believe the universe exists in all it's randomness, and complexity and chaos, and we are just part of it. (And I know for many many people that's exactly why they do believe in divinity.)

Florence, like all of us came into being from two tiny cells, to paraphrase her paediatrician,it's really amazing that the creation of human life goes as well as it does so often.

What I do know is that Florence was loved for the 40 weeks and 3 days she was in my womb, for the 6 hours she lived, for the forgotten number of hours we held and cared for her body, and for always and forever. She is our fifth child, and our children's little sister, and always a part of our family. Always missed. Always loved.

I accept that she is gone, I don't understand it, and I will always wish it otherwise. I will always ache to hold her, and I continue to cry every day.

The post mortem didn't give us the answers we perhaps hoped for,but it did give us some answers, and threw up more questions, I'm not certain they ever do otherwise?

As, I often do, I'm rambling on, making little sense, and most probably confusing those I love who read this blog. I'm sorry.

I'm also so thankful, thankful for all the kind and thoughtful comments left on my last post, for all the emails and phone calls, and for all the love that has come this way over the past five months. You are all wonderful.

Today we are baking Christmas cookies to take to Florence, where they will feed the birds, unless the local foxes get them first!

Massive Pulmonary Haemorrhage

Forgive me for the brutal title, but that's it. The cause of death, Massive Pulmonary Haemorrhage.
We don't know why, and never will. There was no evidence of any infection or anything else for that matter. Her heart,brain,everything were perfectly normal. There was some evidence of damage due to being ressusitated for five hours,but nothing more.
She was our beautiful girl, and then she died. Life is random. (and sometimes shit.)

Five Months

Florence would be five months old today. Old enough to enjoy the twinkly Christmas lights, and old enough to have fun with wrapping paper, maybe not quite old enough to enjoy the snow.
Instead the snow covers her grave, a thick blanket of frozen snow, and I'm wondering what I can take to her on Christmas day? A poinsettia? Maybe a Christmas wreath? Balloons? What do you buy your dead baby for Christmas?
I've decorated the house, made her a stocking, and put up the lovely ornaments bought in her memory by thoughtful friends.
I could feel the tears welling up in church yesterday. The end of term carol service for my littlies. Songs and stories about birth and a little baby.
Today we go to the hospital to hear the post mortem results for our baby.
I'm so scared,last night I dreamed the results simply said "Mother's Fault".
I'm so scared, and so sad,and right now all I can do is shuffle through the days and hope my living children have a good Christmas,and we'll all remember Florence, miss her horribly and wish she was here.

No Words

Mantel, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

Post Mortem Results (again)

Just got home to the post (which was very late), and a letter from Florence's peadiatrician to say she has her post mortem results, and would we like to make an appt to go over them? Of course, there's no one in her office now, and it's the Friday before Christmas, so at the very least I'll be waiting the weekend before I can speak to her.
I want to know what happened to all the promises from the SUDIC team corroner that we'd be the first to know as soon as the results were through? She promised to deliver the pm results as soon as they were released, in person.
My tummy is flipping over knowing that the results are there, and I don't know them.
She's my baby I should know them!

ETA, I've just noticed the letter is dated 10th December, she's had the results for at least 8 days, f'ing post!

Christmas Shopping (attempt no 2)

My first attempt at Christmas shopping one day last week was a disaster. I managed one shop before the world started to spin, the tears were stinging my eyes and I had to find fresh air and somewhere to sit down very quickly. All I bought were two tiny frames to hold pictures of Florence, then I caught the bus home and spent the rest of the day crying.
Thankfully most of the Christmas shopping was done online over a month ago,I just needed a few stocking fillers, and I thought I could cope with that, clearly not.
Today though, Woody persuaded me to go into work with him. He's working in Chester part of the week, so I could get a lift in with him, go shopping, then meet him for lunch before coming home. I was nervous,but I was ok. I think exploring an unfamiliar, and very pretty town helped to keep my mind active. I managed to get a few nice gifts and I only almost cried a few times, mostly when I saw cute little gifts I so would've wanted to buy for Florence.
I'd see something, look at it, pick it up, and wonder "should I buy it anyway?" but then realising that no, no I shouldn't.
I walked past a beautiful little boutique selling the kind of baby clothes and toys I love. I stopped, I looked, I fought back the tears and looked about me guiltily wondering who had seen me looking, and if they knew...
I didn't go in.

I was glad to see my lovely Woody walking along the canal to meet me at lunch time.

...
...

Last night I hesitantly watched a tv programme called "Out Of My Depth" It was about an actress being trained to become a midwife. I was ready to switch it off if I couldn't handle it,but I surprised myself. Sometimes I can cope with the obvious stuff, it's the unexpected that can send me into a tail spin.
During the programme, the midwives did touch on the subject of loss, and I was glad they did, even if I found the resus demo on the doll a little uncomfortable. Two nurses took it in turns to breath for Florence that way, for five whole hours.
The thing that really hit me though was when a screaming newborn was placed into his mother's arms. He was crying that delicious newborn cry, that "oh my goodness, what's this? Air, rushing into my lungs, cold skin, touch, light" cry, and I realised Florence didn't do that. She cried a little,but mostly she mewed, and then she whimpered.
I'd forgotten that healthy babies cry (usually), healthy babies are pink.
I had four healthy screaming babies before Florence,but since her, all I can think of is how she struggled, and then how still she was in my arms. She looked like she was sleeping, smiling even, but she wasn't.
I've lost faith in birth, in my body, in life .

Another tiny step forward

Woody and I met with the consultant Obstetrician this afternoon. He seemed like a really nice guy,very understanding. He couldn't really tell us anything more than the consultant paediatrician we saw a few weeks ago,but he is going to try and use his influence to get the post mortem results released for us. We are really hoping he can.

People Are Good

Violet, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

I've written and deleted so many posts on this subject,but I'm lost. I just can't articulate what it is I feel each time I receive a message, a letter an email or like today this beautiful watercolour, from Ann Marie.
I'm overwhelmed by the kindness of people, by how much Florence has touched their lives, and I'm so thankful to know so many wonderful people hold my family in their hearts.
But in the words of my good friend Jacqui's Grandfather, "People Are Good".

A Tiny Update

Still waiting to hear news about the post mortem, but I've been told that although the results are through, they may not be released until the inquest, which isn't until February!
Also been reading about Group B Strep, and it seems there is a possibility that this may have been the cause of Florence's death. I'm talking to an obstetrician on Thursday to find out more,but something as simple as GBS, which is routinely screened for in many other countries may have been what killed my baby.
Of course, we know nothing until the post mortem results are released, and even then there is a possibility of them being "inconclusive".
The huge amounts of antibiotics Florence was given on admittance to hospital means if she did die from an "overwhelming infection" we'll probably never know which one, as any cultures taken will be clear from the antibiotics.
Woody says I shouldn't be googling all this stuff, and I need to just wait and see,but I can't help it. I need to know they cut my baby open for a reason.Afterall, we had no choice. The post mortem was required by law...and I still don't understand that.

Apologies

To those waiting for their 25 days of giveaways gifts from me. I was so excited about the give aways that I totally forgot I would have to actually post them, and that would mean braving my local post office, which I haven't been in since before Florence was born.
The ladies that work in my local post office are lovely, and over the past seven years or so, I've been a very regular customer with my little online business, but after Florence died I found it too difficult to go in many of my local shops, the post office was no exception.
Anyway, after a week of walking past the wrapped and ready to go parcels in my hall, I finally today plucked up enough courage to face the Christmas queue and post them.
I was nervous, and a bit shakey,but I got the window of one of the lovely ladies I know, and she said she didn't want to say too much,but she wanted me to know how sad everyone was to hear about Florence. I think I said "thank you", I hope I did, I may have just smiled, I'm not sure.
So I did it, faced another fear, and your parcels are all on their way.

....

This morning I was thinking about music, music that reminds me of Florence. I'm not much of a music follower really, something a couple of my friends frequently tease me about. I'm more likely to be found listening to radio 4 than dowloading tunes to my ipod...never downloaded a song in my life and I don't even own an ipod!
I guess I have fairly diverse taste in music when I do listen to it, I like everything from The Velvet Underground, Trex, through to Barry Manilow and Shirley Bassey!
Anyway getting to the point. I narrowed it down to two songs. This one first.



I listened to this a lot once Woody went back to work.We both love this song anyway,but I found in those early days, and actually even now it speaks to me. It describes how I often feel since Florence died.

Then



I think one night not long before Florence was born I woke up and Woody was half watching Glastonbury on the tv, and this was playing. I remember it waking me, and feeling...oh I don't know, something!

Anyway I'm clearly in a waffly mood today, just thought I'd share these with you.

A Date

We have a date for the inquest. I'm not holding my breath though, I know how often these things are postponed. What I'm wondering now though is if they've set a date, then the post mortem results should be back ? Of course, it's Saturday so I can't ask anyone.

Florence's Garden

Flossie's Garden Stone, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

There is a border in our garden that I've been taking care of over the past few months, and thinking of as Florence's garden, so when my lovely friend Sarah told me she had commissioned a stone in memory of Florence, I knew exactly where I wanted it to go.
Today Sarah brought over the stone and put it in position for me...I'm still impressed by her strength, it is really heavy!
I do think it's lovely, and I especially love the dove which is modelled on the dove applique I used on Florence's burial gown, and on the baby carriers I made while I was pregnant. (amongst other things.)
I know how nervous Sarah was about this gift, but it's lovely, and I'm so thankful.
I'm so touched by all the wonderful things people have done for my family over the past few months. We are truly blessed to have so many thoughtful and caring friends who have sent cards, messages, food, flowers,and most importantly just been there for us.
Thank you to all of you.

Nativity

I'm just warming up after spending the afternoon in the church watching the infant nativity and then fighting my way home through the driving rain,wind and cold with three grumpy children in tow. I can't feel my toes yet!
This afternoons performance was the second, we all went to watch Sid as "head sheep" last night, and I went alone this afternoon.
I've sat in that church countless times, for nativity's, carol services, school leavers,all the usual stuff you'd expect from a CofE school.
I admit I usually go through a sense of duty and sit numb bummed and bored throughout. Last night though,and more especially today when I sat alone I felt both super proud of my gorgeous little sheep, and sad that I was sitting alone, when I should've had a baby snuggled up and nursing.
My eyes were full of tears,but the smiles and waves from Sid and his little friend stopped me from just spilling those tears.
I watched the little stars in the costumes I made several years ago and I thought of how I'd never get to see Florence wearing one and dancing with the other children.
Christmas is changing for me, and I'm not sure how yet.

December

The advent calendars are up, and I'm sewing decorations. The presents are bought and wrapped. Tonight is the first performance of the infant school nativity.Looks like it's going to be Christmas.
We have been planning ways to include Florence this Christmas. I think that's why I'm not freaking out, at least not yet.
Honestly I'm not at all sure how I feel about the forthcoming celebrations, apart from the obvious.

Today I went back to Slingmeet for the first time in months, and the first time since Florence was born. I knew I had to go back today or I never would. Actually it wasn't too bad. Lots of newbies who don't know my history, and a few regulars who I feel safe with.
I think I may have rambled on a little more than usual when doing demos, I was definately nervous, and I very almost cried on a couple of people,but mostly I coped.
There was one awkward moment chatting to a lovely pregnant lady when I thought the conversation may turn to the dreaded question,but I was rescued by my co leader who was keeping an eye on me.

Maybe I can get through this month if I just keep on keeping on, that's what has worked so far.

Tread Lightly

Tread Lightly, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

REQUIESCAT

by: Oscar Wilde

Tread lightly, she is near
Under the snow,
Speak gently, she can hear
The daisies grow.

All her bright golden hair
Tarnished with rust,
She that was young and fair
Fallen to dust.

Lily-like, white as snow,
She hardly knew
She was a woman, so
Sweetly she grew.

Coffin-board, heavy stone,
Lie on her breast,
I vex my heart alone,
She is at rest.

Peace, peace, she cannot hear
Lyre or sonnet,
All my life's buried here,
Heap earth upon it.



Florence's headstone was laid on Friday.
This poem was going round and round in my head after Florence died, so we chose a passage from it for her stone.
I feel peace that it's now laid, and I'm happy with the simplicity of it.



Sometimes I find myself at the cemetery feeling all sorts of emotions. Yesterday I was grinning so hard when I saw the grave next door but one to Florence. The grave is of an older gentleman, obviously much loved by a large family. His plot is always very decorated. Yesterday his family had decorated his whole plot with fake snow, a large decorated Christmas tree, and even snowmen!
We have been considering a small conifer with solar powered fairy lights for Florence, but nothing so elaborate. It was a bit tacky I guess, but lovely to see he was so loved, and certainly made me smile.

(PS if you are looking for the results of the giveaway scroll down to the next post)

Maisie's New Home

Will be with commenter no 11, Betty that's you!

Thank you so much for all your comments,I really wish I had a doll for each of you.Infact I'm so moved by each of your comments, I'm going to offer three runners up gifts of little heart decorations. These go to:

no 2 Klarsen
no 1 CatherineW
no 10 Karen

If you could all send me your addresses to jeanette dot archer at gmail dot com I'll get your gifts off in the post asap.

Thanks again.

(All prizes were chosen randomly by random.org)

OH yes! And head on over to Karen at Busy hands for Day Three of the 25 days of giveaways.

Day Two

, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

It's day two of the 25 Days Of Giveaways!
Tina gave away a beautiful necklace yesterday, and today it's my turn.
Maisie is all ready to come and live with a babylost family.
Maisie is sister to Madeleine, they are almost identical twins.
Madeleine is staying here with us to watch over our family through our first Christmas without our darling Florence, and Maisie wants to come and watch over another family who needs her to help them through this Christmas.

Maisie is approx 35cm/14" tall, and would be happy either sitting on top of your Christmas tree or on a mantel shelf, wherever you'd like to put her.
Maisie is not a toy, she's for decorative purposes only, as she has small parts that are not suitable for children.
This giveaway is open to all babylost families across the globe. I will pick a winner(using random.org) early tomorrow morning,to give our American friends a chance to enter.
Just leave a comment and let me know how you are coping with the Christmas shopping? Are you like me, shopping online,wrapping and hiding before I have a chance to even think about what I'm doing? Or do you have a different approach?

Soft

A pile of softness, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

I've made a start on some supplies for my local hospital's bereavement suite.
This stack of the softest flannel blankets is just the beginning, I hope.
There are five 22" square blankets and five 17" square blankets. Each one is two layers of the softest killington flannel with a sweet appliqued heart in the corner. I truly hope that these blankets give bereaved parents even a tiny bit of comfort in the darkest moments of their lives. I made each one with love.

Yule Tide Fairies

Yule Tide Fairies, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

Introducing Madeleine and Maisie. These pretty Yule Tide Fairies are responsible for keeping me sane these past few days...or rather the making of them is.
Florence would have been four months old on Sunday, and I've had a few dark anxious and tearful days where I've struggled just to get through the daily chores.
Working on these little dolls has given me a focus.
I had been so looking forward to making Christmas gifts for our baby, I'd even tucked away some special fabrics and trimmings with gifts in mind. A doll was top of that list.
When I saw the pattern for these dolls in the December issue of Sew magazine, I realised we could still have a doll for Florence, we could have a special hand made decoration for the first Christmas without her.
Then I read Tina's blog, and her idea to have a twelve days of Christmas blog giveaway for babylost parents inspired me to make two.
So Madeleine has a loving home here, but her not quite identical twin is looking for a home with another babylost family.
Tina's idea has snowballed into twenty five days of blog giveaways,(click on the link in the side bar for details) We are day number two, on Saturday 28th November.
So, make your way back here on Saturday, when I'll have a post with more pics and details, and if you want Maisie to come and live with you just leave a comment then. More details to follow.


Oh, and a top tip for other babylost parents; don't lock yourself away in your attic for three days making dolls, then answer the door to your neighbour, who you haven't spoken to since his new baby was born a couple of weeks ago, ask how everyone is, then when he tells you the baby's name, say "Oh how lovely, I'm making a doll and was thinking of calling her that same name."...I may as well have answered the door in a nightgown, clutching a reborn doll, and muttering to myself!!

Sick

I'm so sick of myself, of how I'm defined by my grief, but also how I need to be defined by my grief.
Living with grief is constant, at least it is now. Maybe one day it wont be so present, just a subtle "something" no one can quite put a finger on.
Everything I do is coloured by grief. I'm not wailing and sobbing all of the time. Some days the tears are close and come easily, others they stay caught in my chest,but doing anything beyond the most basic of chores has me with heart racing, and fear of "can I do this with my dead baby in tow".
I'm so angry with myself. I know each new challenge should be taken gradually, It's still only been such a short time, heck I'm still post natal, but Urghhh!
Pull yourself together woman!
Something I can tell myself,but please don't anyone else dare to deny my loss, to ignore it or gloss over it.
I'm caught between wanting to find my new path and not be disabled by my grief, but wanting to also wear it with pride and wanting the world to grieve with me.
The world keeps spinning,and I'm trying to keep up, but I'm running in treacle afraid I'll drop my dead baby and she'll be gone, forgotten.

I have a little fig tree

Thank you to all my lovely LLL, BBB and Slingmeet friends. The tree (Violetta) is such a sweet gift.
I'm going to enjoy watching it grow.

Grandma

We decided (OK I decided, and Woody agreed like a good husband.) to name Florence, Florence Violet after I had a vivid half dream when I was only ten weeks pregnant.
It wasn't until after her birth, and death and I was on the phone to my Mum to give her the news that I remembered that Florence was also my maternal grandmothers name.
I was sobbing into the phone, and as the name fell from my lips I remembered.
How could I forget something like that?

My Grandmother died when my Mum was only just in her twenties, and I was maybe five or six.
I only really remember her auburn hair, and the aqua blue silky turban style hat she wore with the big blue brooch on the front.
She was Nanny B to me.

I recently sent my Mum a copy of the beautiful photo Carly took of Florence in the sand, and my Mum said she looks at it and imagines her Mother walking on the beach with Florence in her arms.
Sometimes I forget how hurt other people are by Florence's death.

This is my Mum's Christmas gift. (I'm safe to post this here, my Mum doesn't have a computer!)

The violet coloured stone is for my Florence and the aqua coloured stone is for Grandma Florence.
I hope my Mum, Florence's grandma will love it.
Thank you Tina.

Not quite crashing

Maybe more of a silent slide.
This is new. I was expecting the crash, the tango man ( or his more sinister brother)spinning me around and slapping my face. Maybe he's still lurking here somewhere.
A lady I sometimes speak to told me the other day that I needed to get my hair done and put on some makeup, either that or she said I shouldn't be hiding behind my hair dye and make up. She doesn't speak good English, so it's hard to tell.
Either way, she could be right.
Must pull myself together before my driving lesson.

Sundays at the cemetery

We go to the cemetery almost daily. I rarely cry when I'm there. I like to tidy up Florence's grave, light her candles, and just be.(I also check on her neighbours.)
The sun seems to always shine when we are there.Even on dark, rainy days, the light streams through the trees.
Now that winter is here,the gates close at 4pm, so if we go around 3.30 and light her candles,I know they will burn brightly just as the sky gets dark.
I'm not alone. Today as we left there was a sea of flickering lanterns right across the cemetery. All those loved ones remembered.
Sometimes I catch myself wondering what Florence would think of it there had she lived, and then I remember we'd have no need to go there had Florence lived.
Then I'm reminded what a fucked up world I live in now.

A mother's instinct

I've started this post many times, and then hit delete. I'm not quite sure I can sort through my thoughts on this subject in any way that makes sense,but it's something I keep coming back to. I keep wondering, "Did I know?"
Is a mothers instinct so strong that I could've known Florence was not going to make it?
Is it possible that maybe in some cellular way my body knew from her body that she wasn't going to live?
I know it's not a question anyone can answer.Even if they could, it wouldn't make any difference.
I often go over conversations I had with people while pregnant, just innocent small talk, but I can pin point several times when I was asked about my expanding bump when I had a feeling of "something" not being quite right.
I visualised Florence's birth, and she was born just as I imagined. I remember holding her and thinking how silly I was to have had those feelings.
Of course, even if I had taken the instinctive feelings I was having while pregnant seriously, and told my midwives, nothing untoward would have been found. I had a super healthy pregnancy and Florence was lively with a good beating heart right up until the placenta came away.
Any woman who has grown a baby inside knows how deep that connection to their child is. I've known all of my babies before they were born.
Florence's name came to me in an early morning half dream when I was only ten weeks pregnant. I woke up saying to myself "Florence Violet".
I know that had she lived, I would've forgotten those feelings I had , or I would have at least thought how silly I was to be so paranoid. I would've just put it down to pregnancy, hormones, a mother's worry.
I can't help wondering though, and there are no answers.

Healthy hearts

We took the children to the hospital this morning for a health check, specifically to check their hearts. Firstly we thought we might not be able to see the doctor we know, as she was called urgently to A&E, which sent a shiver down my spine, and almost reduced me to tears on the spot.(As did seeing the doctor who tried to resuscitate Florence at the very end)
She came back in time to see us though, and I'm relieved to report that all four of the children are healthy with good beating hearts.
The doctor told us she'd seen the coroner on her way to see us, but there was still no news about the post mortem.No surprises there then.

Oh yes, and something frivolous but made me smile yesterday was this...that's the wedding dress I made for Heather featured in the main pic.(Thanks Caroline for pointing this out to me.)

What to do?

layered detail with raw edges., originally uploaded by indiaeden.

Just a few months ago I'd imagined life once Sid went to school full time to be full of a new baby, LLL meetings, baby massage classes, Slingmeets. Lots of snuggly breastfeeds on the sofa. I expected to be busy.
I'm not, not busy now. There is always the daily efforts to stop the household sliding into utter chaos. Plus I still have plenty of good friends checking in on me and invites out for coffee and lunch.
I know though that sometime very soon I'm going to have to start thinking about the future and work.
My little business has never made me my fortune,but it kept me busy and paid for treats we might not otherwise have afforded.
I wont be going back to making baby carriers. The level of detail and involvement with the customer and their babies is not something I think I could cope with right now. Maybe one day, who knows.
So, the thought is there, something to ponder.
Meanwhile, today I've made a skirt. I could've been cleaning the bathrooms, or making our bed, or cooking tonights tea,but I guess I'll never be a Stepford wife. To hell with the housework and on with the sewing!
This skirt is made using the Amy Butler Barcelona Skirt pattern. The fabric is Botanical Pop cotton by Jackie Shapiro. (And yep the raw edges are deliberate.)

So, my hair is falling out

My hair is doing that three month post natal falling out thing, I guess in a few weeks I'll have all those little baby hairs growing through.
I don't need reminders that I was pregnant, I gave birth, I know I did those things. I just hate seeing those hairs falling and sighing to myself that yes,I did have a baby.
I recovered physically very quickly after birthing Florence. I joke to my friends that since she was baby number five it was like "shelling peas". Certainly after Sid's birth it was a breeze.
Florence barely left behind any physical reminders on my body. She was much smaller than Sid,so there were no extra stretch marks.
I'm just a few pounds heavier than I was this time last year.
Sometimes I wish I'd been left with a scar, or some extra stretch marks,something I could point to and say was her, but like I said I don't need physical reminders. I know.

Cosy night in

Pj's, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

Tonight there will be bonfires being lit all over , and fireworks lighting up the skies. We usually go to a local display, and despite my misgivings mentioned before, I do usually enjoy wrapping up in winter coats, woollies, and wellies, and walking through the smoke filled night to stand and oooh and ahhhh at the colourful explosions.
The thought of it this year though,just seemed to fall flat without Florence to tuck inside my coat.
Instead we will be having fireworks in the garden, and dedicating them to Florence's memory.
We can stay warm inside,I can wear these new pyjamas I made this afternoon, and toast Florence with hot chocolate and parkin. (while Woody gets to be all manly playing with explosives in the garden!)
...
Pyjamas made from snuggly cotton flannel, using an ancient threadbare pair of Boden pj's as the pattern.

The secret garden meeting, October

So this meeting we would like to talk about where you are. Where are you at in your grief. Has it been years or just weeks since you lost your baby. How are you feeling. How do you hope you will feel in the future. Have you found any peace at all?

It's been fifteen weeks and two days since Florence was born. I'm starting to think of the time in months now, so that would be just over three months. I find it impossible really to imagine her at three months old. I can guess how she'd look based on how the older children were at three months,but to me Florence is an eternal newborn.
I think three months is probably enough time that most people around me are starting to forget, well no, not forget,but for her not to be at the forefront of their minds.
I still think of her constantly.
I am coping, and slowly slowly adjusting to this new world. There are bad dark times, and brighter easier times,but the pain is still raw and it hurts like hell.
I know there is still a long way to go,but I also know I'm not falling apart and that's all I can do for now.
Peace comes at odd moments and for odd reasons.
This week peace came after meeting with one of the doctors who treated Florence.I realised that spending that time with the doctor talking about Florence, even though we were talking about her death reminded me of her realness. The doctor knew my daughter and spoke of her in such a tender way.Very few people met Florence, and it's hard to explain to everyone just how beautiful and real she was. So when the doctor said she was a "perfect little girl" my heart filled with gratitude, because I knew she meant it sincerely and she knew how real Florence was.
I'm not sure what I hope for in the future. The future is a scary thought. All I can really focus on is now, this moment, and if I do that every moment, every day then the future will come, and will just be.

Such a silly coward.

Well, maybe not completely. This morning I was brave and I went into the baby department in John Lewis and bought next doors new baby a little soft bunny, and then I even browsed the new baby cards and bought one of those too. (The mother to be cards were a new one on me, and honestly they made me want to vomit with fear!)
I was feeling quite smug and proud of myself, until I got home, and just as I put my keys in the front door I could hear next door's keys too, my heart rate increased, I hastily turned my key and I was safe inside before anyone saw me. (pathetic I know, but it gets worse.)
I wrapped up the bunny, and wrote the card from *all* of us, then I sneaked quietly out the front door, leaned over the bushes and the fence that seperates our front gardens and silently placed the gift on their front step.
They'll find it eventually.

--

A little note
I don't think my neighbours read my blog,but I know some of my local friends do, and so it's entirely possible that my neighbours may stumble across my ramblings at some point, which is why I haven't before mentioned the new baby next door.
I'm pretty certain I don't have to point out to anyone how it might feel for me right now to know there is (hopefully) such joy next door, and that I may possibly be a hindrance to that joy being celebrated as openly as it deserves to be.
And it doesn't matter how much I try to say or do the right thing here,it comes out wrong.
I'm sad,I'm heartbroken, but I'm happy they have their baby in their arms to love.

Head Spinning

, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

Today Woody and I met with the consultant paediatrician who treated Florence. The post mortem results are still not back (fifteen weeks and counting.),and we still have no date for the inquest,but we all felt we needed to meet and just go over the events of Florence's death to try and get a few questions clear in our minds.
I was really nervous about the meeting, and had a prepared list of questions to ask.
The doctor was absolutely lovely. She talked us through Florence's treatment, and answered all of our questions.
We were a little surprised to hear her say that actually it may not have been a heart defect at all. She explained that they were treating Florence for either an "overwhelming bacterial infection" or a heart defect, as symptoms for both are very very similar, and until the post mortem results come back we wont know for sure if it was her heart.(I hope I understood that correctly.)
She also said, if it wasn't her heart,and was an infection we may never know what it was exactly.
I'm not at all sure what I think about that to be honest.
I do know that speaking with her has settled my mind more than I thought it would.
I told her I'd been worrying about our other children's health since Florence died, and she has made an appointment for her to see them all, and to check their hearts just to put my mind at rest.
I'm not at all sure how to explain to the children, especially the older girls that they need to go to hospital next week to check their hearts. I think they will make the connection between dead sister and check ups. I don't want to scare them. I'm going to have to think on that.
We are waiting to hear from the consultant Obstetrician for an appointment too. I hope that goes as well as today's.

Small talk and truth telling.

Almost five years ago I passed my driving test,it was the day after I'd been sent for a viability scan at 17 weeks pregnant with Sid, and a week before Woody and I got married. A fairly stressful time.
I drove a handful of times, but my enourmously stupidly mahoosive bump (Sid was just under 11lbs!) meant that I pretty soon couldn't fit behind the wheel of the car, and after Sid was born I totally lost my nerve, and basically haven't driven since.
That is until a few weeks ago, when despite my bereavement midwife's concern that I might not be ready for the challenge I booked my self some refresher driving lessons.
It did take me a few weeks to pluck up the courage to even book the lessons, but I finally did it and have been pootling about Stockport under the guidance of my lovely (and patient) instructor,Sue.
One of the reasons I was reluctant to book the lessons in the first place was I was terrified of having that conversation, you know, the "so how many children..." one?
I finally decided though that my need to be able to drive myself to the cemetery to see Florence was stronger than my fear of small talk, prepared an answer just in case and booked the lessons.
So far though, the question hasn't arisen, much to my relief.
Then this morning as I was walking the littlies to school I saw Sue drive past, she waved and I though "oh no, now she's seen (some of) the children she's bound to ask".
(And I prepared another answer in my head just in case.)
Today's lesson was pretty good, and Sue did ask about the children,but not so directly that Florence came up. She also asked me where I needed to drive to in my daily life, and I avoided telling her the cemetery, we even drove past the cemetery and I didn't cry, but then we went past a pub that had a psychic night event on, and she started talking about how great psychics were, and about heaven, and dead relatives, and well, all that stuff.
I was ok, and she's such a nice lady, I couldn't possibly say anything about Florence, it wasn't the right time. She might be embarrassed or cry, or I might cry, and oh heck!
I feel like I'm lying, or worse still denying Florence.
I was relieved the subject hadn't come up, but now, I like this lady and I feel I'm deceiving her, but at the same time it's not intentional, and well, we have a professional relationship, she doesn't need to know everything about me, and oh bugger these silly little social situations are so hard to navigate with a dead baby in tow.
Thank goodness for the lovely lady from school who came to my rescue yesterday and came to my house to cut my hair. I certainly couldn't cope with hairdresser etiquette right now.

So, how was your Halloween?

Winter celebrations from Halloween through till Christmas just make me anxious. I'm not certain why. I want to celebrate them *my* way,but then I'm uncertain how that should be. I'm not a Pagan, or a Christian, so maybe I shouldn't be celebrating at all.
I've tried over the past few years to celebrate the winter festivals as just that,but somehow it still doesn't feel right.
Guy Fawkes is coming up this week.Now that should be a simple festival to enjoy,but I can't help thinking that despite Guy Fawkes being a terrorist, did he really deserve to be put to death? And in such a grotesque way? and should we be celebrating that?
Maybe it's being a grumpy old English woman,or maybe it's just my usual way of over thinking everything.
Actually I wonder if it isn't just embarrassment.
I've realised lately just how embarrassed I am by my grief. I already knew I felt shame and embarrassment for not being able to bring Florence into the world whole and healthy,but I've only just realised how embarrassed I am by my own grief.
Most days I try to hide it behind make up and busyness, but that's survival, that's the only way to get through each day.
Here though, on my blog, you'd think I could shed that embarrassment. After all this is *my* blog, I can write anything I want to. My grief is mine alone,(Just as Woody's is his alone.) no one else feels the way I do. No one can tell me I'm wrong, or that I should be anything. So why am I so cautious?
The truth is,this blog barely scratches the surface of the pain and sorrow in my soul. Jess described it perfectly in a recent post on her blog
Sometimes I want to bare my pain and scare the crap out of everyone, to give them the tiniest glimpse of the horror of losing a child,but that would be embarrassing wouldn't it, so I put on my make up, and paste on a smile and I edit my thoughts for my blog to protect the friends and family I love.
I am ok,I'm not falling apart,I'm coping, and I'll keep on coping, but this story doesn't have a happy ending, I'm not going to reach the end of a grief journey and be all better. I'm going to have a hole in my heart forever, I'll pull in the edges and try to fix it,but the stitches wont quite ever be strong enough.
Some days I might just spill some of the contents into cyber space, and other days the stitches will hold up a little better, and well dear readers, I'm sorry, and I'll be blushing, but that's just the way it's gonna be.

Home

Trebarwith , originally uploaded by indiaeden.

We are home. Cornwall was beautiful as always. We (Woody and I) were a little homesick, but that's normal for us. We both thought about how different our little holiday would have been had Florence been there.
The silly little things got to me, like shopping in Padstow and not being able to go into some cute little shops,I knew I would've enjoyed had Florence been with us.
We collected shellls and little pebbles from the beach, some I have next to my bed, and the larger ones we took to Florence's grave today.
Woody also bought me this Willow Tree figure in Tintagel. Maybe I'm getting sentimental in my old age,but I love this figure.



Oh yes, and I still don't believe in signs,but today at Florence's grave there was a ladybird crawling on her pink roses.

Ladybirds, Rainbows, Light And Hope

I've read a lot of blogs,forums,books and articles on baby loss since Florence died. A lot of the parents write about signs from their children, or feeling them near, or even catching sight of them from the corner of their eye. As I read of these things, I felt envious that I couldn't see or feel these things.
Although that's not strictly true, I can almost feel Florence sleeping on my shoulder, as I've said before. I do feel like I carry her "spirit" (for want of a better word) with me always,but how can I not? I grew her deep inside me for so long.we shared dreams,emotions,nutrition,blood...
I don't believe in angels, I don't believe Florence is in heaven with Jesus. I guess what I do believe (again, maybe not quite the right word) is that her body is nourishing the soil around her, the earth is enveloping her and absorbing her back to nature. Meanwhile the essence of her is in mine and Woody's and the children's hearts.
One day last week after a sleepless, tearful night,I stood in the shower and the sun was just coming up. the light from the breaking dawn flooded my bathroom, and my heart. I even felt myself smiling.
Later that day Angus was thrilled to find a ladybird hitching a ride on his shoe.
The next day walking home from school, through the trees on the playing fields I spotted a beautiful rainbow. It hadn't been raining.(When I told Woody later he said it must have been a proper magic one with a pot of gold...sarcastic bugger!)
Then I found another ladybird on my bathroom window.
Yesterday while visiting Florence's grave, the wind blew and a million fluttering golden leaves rained down like confetti, glistening in the autumn sun, it was breathtaking.
And another ladybird had this time hitched a ride on Sid's trouser leg.
Writing this down seems kinda ridiculous,my rational brain doesn't believe in signs.
I know that Ladybirds have recently hatched and are looking for places to overwinter, our bathroom faces east and so the dawn light fills it every morning, it must have rained somewhere for there to be a rainbow, and leaves fall every Autumn.
I don't believe these things are a sign from my baby,but I do take comfort in nature, and knowing that in a very tiny way,she is nourishing the Earth.



A rainbow from July.

Almost One Year Ago (Something of a ramble)

Me and the kids, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

That's when this photo was taken. I was very probably *just* pregnant, but had absolutely no idea at all, and didn't until I was almost seven weeks pregnant.
A baby's heart is apparently fully formed by eight weeks gestation, so was Florence's fate already sealed when this picture was taken? Or maybe in the weeks that followed?
Florence would be three months old today, I guess it's time to stop counting in weeks. (thirteen and one day)
The early hours of this morning found me in our bathroom, door shut, trying to keep my crying from waking up Woody. He worked late last night, came home, baked bread and had to be out early this morning,he needed his sleep.
Next week we are going to Cornwall. It's half term hols, and I think walks on the beautiful Cornish coastline will be good for all of us.
I admit I'm anxious at the thought of being so far away from Florence's grave.
I do feel like I carry her with me always, I can almost feel her sleeping on my left shoulder, cheek tucked into my neck, head heavy, a golden light all around.
Going to her grave though, I feel calm, and like to take care of her space,it's all I can do for her. I can't bathe her, or dress her, or wear her, or feed her, but I can bring her roses, light her candle and make her grave pretty.
Aunty Hev will be popping in on her while we are gone, and we'll bring shells back from the beach. I wish it could be different.

Endurance

That's what life is now, a test of my endurance. I'm actually scared writing that in case there is more to come.
When I was 17, exactly one month before my 18th birthday, I went to school in the morning, and when I came home in the afternoon my Dad was dead. He died very suddenly at the age of 43 from a brain hemorrhage. I adored him.
Over the next few years a whole lot of shit happened,and I really thought that was how it was being a grown up.
Then I met Woody, we had a family, and I thought life was good. Just days before Florence was born,I thought how lucky we were.
Now, I'm walking in a dream.I'm loving my living children, and my husband. I'm scared for them and for myself, and I'm desperate to hold Florence in my arms.
Did it all really happen? Has the past year just been a dream?
I grew and birthed a beautiful daughter and she's gone. I can't even believe I'll ever see her again. My only hope is that when I die, as the last electrical impulses are surging through my brain,I'll think she's there in my arms.
I'm so sorry Florence, forever is forever.

Flashbacks

Oh how I hate the flashbacks. Most common at night, either in that twilight time before sleep takes hold, or in the early hours of the morning when sleep has abandoned me. Sometimes even during the day, on the train,walking along the street,in the playground,while folding laundry....
Usually she's lying on that table, doctors all around. She's trying to push the tubes out of her throat with her tongue, and trying to open her eyes, then she's given more morphine.
I said before that she never opened her eyes, but she did try. I think I saw a glint of pale blue.Then the morphine shut them tight.
I wonder if she could see? There were cartoon characters on the ceiling,but her newborn vision would have only been programmed to see from Mothers breast to Mother's face.She never saw my face.
I hope she knew I was there, holding her hand,stroking her cheek.

Conversations With A Four Year Old

Last night as Sid was snuggling down for the night (he still co sleeps with us.)and we were discussing his day he said;

" All of the children in our family go to school, except Florence,because Florence is dead, and you are sad all of the time. We need another baby, maybe it will be a boy,or a girl."

If only it were that simple sweetheart.

A Bedroom Full Of Fairies

fairies, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

A short while after I wrote yesterday's post, Sid came up to our bedroom with a present for me, a jar full of fairies from the garden! He said I couldn't see them because they were invisible. I suggested the fairies might be happier in the garden, but Sid insisted on releasing them in our bedroom.
So there you go, I now have a bedroom full of fairies, just when I needed them.

Plans

notebooks, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

I'm a planner, I like to make lists, to organise and have something (many things) in the pipeline.
These notebooks are just the ones on my desk, I have several others dotted around the house, and of course one (actually two) in my handbag for making notes on the go.
Thing is, since Florence died I just can't organise my thoughts at all. My mind skips here, there and everywhere. My thoughts are always of her, even when I'm thinking of something else.
Some of these notebooks on my desk are full of lists of "things for baby", "things for birthing kit", and sketches of baby clothes I planned to make.
Sometimes I think I know where to go from here, I start to make plans, I reach for my trusty notebooks, and nothing happens.
Where do I go from here?
Everything seems so untidy (especially my mind). I want to organise, to make lists, to make decisions, but I'm dazed and don't know where to even begin.
I remind myself it's early days, and even though I feel ok today, I thought I was ok a week ago, and now I know I wasn't.
I don't know myself anymore, I don't trust my own judgement. The old me is gone forever.
The new me buys candles to burn in remembrance of her dead daughter, and writes boring posts on her blog about nothing much at all.
I apologise to all my readers who used to read this blog for the fluffy fun sewing stuff.
This wasn't how I planned it.
I should be posting cute little baby toes, and fingers and gorgeous little outfits in all the fabrics I saved "just incase we have a girl".
Now I vaguely plan for those fabrics to be used in products to sell, but who wants to buy baby clothes from a dead baby mama?
Even on a good day (and today is a good day) life is shit!

For All The Babies

baby memorial, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

Today was our local hospital's annual baby memorial service. We didn't know what to expect, and not being believers we were a little wary of a service held in our local church.(some people reading who know me, may now be wondering why my children go to the church school, but that's a question for another day!)
Honestly, I wanted to go just to see some other real living parents of dead babies,just to reassure myself that we don't all have two heads.
I also got to see my lovely midwife.
That's Florence's balloon floating off.

Home Alone

Must keep busy, must just keep busy.
There is laundry to do, even ironing,lunches to make, dinner to prepare, children to take to school, and to collect and bring home again.
Today I should have been somewhere else, but it was just too soon, so now I'm home alone. That's ok though, I need to be alone sometimes.I've got so much to do, and I've promised the girls new pyjamas, and India a new coat, and Sid new warm trousers.
I ran out of tracing fabric, stopped to eat some soup.
The mistake was stopping.
I can use baking parchment to trace the patterns, no time to sit here crying, got to keep busy.

Sanctuary

Brass Locket, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

Weekends are safe,cosy,my sanctuary. I look forward to being with Woody and the children. We don't have to do anything special,our routine of Saturday night pizza is enough.
Even days like today when we lost track of time,and missed Angus' swimming lesson,and the children have been in a bickering mood,are still good days.
This morning two parcels I've been waiting on arrived, the locket pictured above intended to carry Florence's snip of hair, and a book. "An Exact Replica Of a Figment Of My Imagination" by Elizabeth McCracken.
I can't remember the last time I read a book in one day.
I'm not certain what I want to say about it,except I understood it. I almost wanted to highlight every paragraph that described exactly some of the feelings and thoughts I've had since Florence was born.
Part of me wants to give a copy to everyone I love to help them understand more,but maybe they still wouldn't. Maybe you can't unless you've been there.
I would definately recommend it to babylost parents though.
Right, now to get on with all the hoovering I should have been doing instead of reading.

(sorry the pic is not great, self taken in crappy light.)

From Beautiful Friends

From beautiful friends, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

How can I be so blessed in so many ways, unyet not have my precious baby Florence here with me?
Today, a parcel came. I wasn't expecting anything and was confused by the return address, recognising the name as one of my friends from an online sewing group,I've been a part of for a looong time now.
We've supported each other through many ups and downs of life over the past eight or so years. Some of us have met, and some of us haven't.
Inside the box was a card with the message "A warm woolly hug from all of sns chatter", and the most beautiful blanket I've ever seen.
I'm guessing my beautiful friends made a square or two each and then someone was nominated to sew them all together.
I sat and cried and admired each square trying to guess who made each one.
I'm so lucky to be part of such a lovely group. Thank you guys, I love you all.

Florence's Story

I have thought long and hard about putting Florence's story here, and having talked it over with Woody decided that I would.
Her story, our story is not an easy one to tell, but we think it might help some people who care about us to understand a little more about her short life. I also know how much it's helped me reading other families stories of loss, and maybe a mother in a similar position to me might stumble across this page and know that there are other mothers out there that understand, and feel that immense pain just like they do.

Florence Violet
22nd July 2009

Florence was a wonderful surprise baby. We had four children, and didn't plan on having any more, though it was no secret I wanted at least one more!
Finding out we were pregnant, was a surprise, I'm still not quite sure how it happened! I felt so lucky to be pregnant again, and enjoyed every moment of my pregnancy...ok maybe not the morning sickness!

Tuesday 21st July 2009, three days after my “official due date”, I woke in the early hours to strong contractions and period type pains. The contractions were only coming about every ten minutes, and I was managing to rest, even doze between them. I knew there was a way to go yet.
Woody had already booked the rest of that week off work as I was struggling with the school runs. I was very glad he had.
Things slowed down a little once all the children were up, and I managed to get the middle two off to school without arousing any suspicion.
I just had to keep my excitement from India, who had already finished school for the summer, and from Sid.
We spent the day quietly pottering about the house, and went for a gentle walk to a local park. We fed the ducks and simply enjoyed some quiet time.
By tea time the pains were stronger. Woody prepared a delicious chilli and flat-breads, and my best friend, Heather joined us for dinner.
We were all quite jolly. Woody and I were amused that Heather had shown up not knowing I was in the early stages of labour.
Once she realised, she looked rather nervous, and I tried to hide when the contractions came.
Later that evening once all the children were tucked up in bed, my contractions got a lot stronger, and I decided to try out the tens machine I'd borrowed from a lovely friend, Maxine.
I was trying to watch TV while bouncing on my birth ball or standing using the bedside crib to lean on and rotating my hips.
I also spent a lot of time on the loo, I think Florence was pressing on my bladder, I seemed to constantly need to wee. That position though would then trigger more contractions, as would Florence's constant wriggling!
She'd been enormously active all through the pregnancy, and during labour was no different. She'd kick and wriggle so violently sometimes I'd shout out “you little bugger!”.
She was going to be just like her big sister, Eden. I was sure of it.
By about 1am, the contractions were coming about every four minutes and were lasting about a minute and a half. Woody and I decided to go downstairs to the lounge where I planned to give birth, and where Angus and Sid were both born.
I decided to give the hospital a call and warn them I might need a midwife sometime soon.
Mary, my wonderful midwife was already in with a birthing woman, so I said I'd call back when I thought things were more urgent in the hope she'd be free by then.
Meanwhile Woody had woken India to go and sleep in with Sid in our bed. Eden and Angus also woke briefly, but I told them the baby was coming and they should go back to sleep.
Woody and I settled down in the lounge. Woody in the arm chair with a blanket, and me sat on my birthing ball,leaning over the back of a dining chair.
By now the pains were very intense, and I was struggling to get in a comfortable position. I felt overwhelmed and began to cry, telling Woody I couldn't do this...classic transition maybe?
Woody gave me some rescue remedy and a homoeopathic remedy from my birth kit. I stopped crying and gave myself a severe talking to.
I was now standing and leaning over the back of the dining chair. Woody had started to doze in the arm chair,but I couldn't wake him as now the contractions were one on top of the other, and very intense. I was half keeping an eye on the time and decided if these contractions kept coming like this until 4am, that would be when I'd wake Woody and ring for Mary.
I kept telling myself “you can do this”.
Just before 4am my mucous plug came away, and I woke Woody to check...I couldn't move, I was rooted to the spot and clinging on to my chair.
We then phoned the delivery suite, but I couldn't speak, and before I'd even passed the phone to Woody, the midwife was already sending Mary out to me.
Mary arrived very quickly.(I live very close to the hospital.) I was so pleased to see her. A week earlier she had hurt her leg and I didn't think she'd make it to my birth, I was so glad she did.
Mary wanted to examine me, I was really nervous, but she was gentle and caring. She said I was 5cm's dilated with waters bulging. Florence was in a great position and her heartbeat was strong.
As I stood up from the sofa, there was a whoosh of amniotic fluid! Mary again listened to Florence's heartbeat, still good and strong.
I was managing with the Tens machine, but Mary thought I might like some Entonox, so popped out to her car to get a mouthpiece for the canister.
Almost immediately I could feel Florence's head crowning. I said to Woody “Here comes the head”, but he didn't believe me! (I have since told him that when a woman says a head is coming, she's not kidding!).
There was another huge gush of waters, and I could feel Florence coming with them. I didn't push, just breathed deeply.
I told Woody to go and get Mary, then said “No stay, catch the baby”. Woody was holding out his hands to catch Florence, (she had one hand up near her face) as Mary came back in. Mary said the cord was tight around Florence's neck and she may have to cut it, but Florence had other ideas and was born in a flash into both Woody and Mary's hands . (little did we know, that had she cut the cord then, we might not have got the time with her we did.)
Mary passed Florence up to me, I held her warm slippy body in my arms. Woody said “It's a girl”. I knew it! I held her close and scolded myself for any doubts I'd had while pregnant that she might never make it earth side.
Woody and Mary helped me to the sofa. There had been no time to put down all the towels I'd been saving, so Mary hastily put down stepping stones of inco pads for me.
I sat on the sofa with my beautiful baby girl against my breast. She looked just like Eden. I knew her already, just like the other children.

It was 4.54am.

While we waited for the placenta, I held Florence skin to skin. I offered her the breast but she wasn't ready to feed yet. She had been born very fast and was a little mucousy. I wasn't concerned about her not wanting to feed straight away. All of my babies had waited a good hour before wanting their first feed. I was happy to feel her body against mine, and study her little hands and face.
She passed meconium all over us both, and I started to feel a little uncomfortable after about thirty minutes or so. This was when we decided to cut the cord that had stopped pulsating, and I asked for syntometrine to help the placenta come away.
Mary then suggested I go for a quick shower to rinse off the meconium, and Woody took Florence. He washed her gently with warm water and a soft cloth before having a cuddle with her while I showered.
I was so excited in the shower, I think it was the quickest shower of my life, I just wanted to get back downstairs to my new baby, to give her that first breastfeed and to settle down for the new day with my family around me.
The children had all gone down to say hello to Florence while I was in the shower.
When I got downstairs, Mary said Florence was a little cold and “dusky” and she wanted to put her back skin to skin with me. I immediately tucked her under my pyjama top.
Mary took her temperature, and it was only 34 degrees, she was by now whimpering a little. Mary called an ambulance and I held an oxygen mask over Florence's face.
Initially I think we all thought it was the fast birth and the mucous on her chest causing the problem, but I remember my hands shaking as I tried to put a nappy on her, and knowing in my heart that things were very wrong.
India found me some shoes and a fleece to throw on over my pyjamas as the ambulance arrived.
Mary held Florence into the ambulance, and I was helped in by the paramedic, and strapped into my seat. The sirens and lights were switched on. I couldn't believe this was happening, I was overwhelmed with dread.
We arrived at the A&E department just minutes later. I climbed out of the ambulance first, but Florence was already on the table by the time I got there.

It was 6.05am

This is where details get very blurry. I have flashes of the next five hours , but exact time lines are lost to me.
I remember a wonderful nurse, Jo enveloping me in her arms and holding me so tightly. I think we both thought that holding on like that might make it all ok.
(I've since learned that Jo sadly lost her father just a week later and he is buried close by Florence.)
I remember Woody arriving soon after us. He had waited at home for his step Mum to come and look after the children, then raced to the hospital to be with us.
I remember Florence's tiny body on that table, wires and tubes from every limb, from her nose, her mouth and her umbilical.
I remember stroking her tiny hand and her soft cheek as the doctors and nurses worked on her.
I remember knowing she was leaving us.
I wanted it all to stop. I wanted to hold my baby in my arms.
Finally, after five hours Florence decided she was leaving us. Woody had taken me outside for some air. He was holding me up, and I thought I was going to wake up any minute.
That is when the doctor came to fetch us. She told us Florence was making the choice to leave us.
Woody held me up as we walked towards the table. Another doctor was still trying to resuscitate her. The first doctor told him to stop and to give us our baby.
Woody and I were both sobbing and holding our beautiful girl as a nurse hastily cut all the tubes and wires.
We sat together, huddled, crying, me unwrapping my baby to get a good look at her. I wanted to study her as I would've at home during that first feed.
Time stood still in our little bubble as the nurses cleaned up around us.
She was gone.
She never had that first feed, she never opened her eyes.

It was 10.55am

After a while we were moved to a relatives room, and a midwife was left with us. We were worried sick about our older children, and I made that awful phone call home to Grandma to let her know our baby girl had left us.
We were moved again a while later to the bereavement suite in the maternity department.
I was wheeled through the hospital holding my baby and trying desperately to hide in her blanket the tubes and wires still left in her body.
Woody walked behind carrying my bags.
It's a long way from A&E to the maternity department, but our lovely bereavement midwife, Annie went as fast as she possibly could.
The bereavement suite is a quiet comfortable space in a distant corridor away from the bustle of the maternity wards.
Annie helped me to weigh Florence, 9lbs 3.5 ozs.
We were left alone in that room for a while. Woody made a cup of tea. Annie had left us sandwiches, but we were not hungry.
We undressed Florence, and I washed her carefully before dressing her, and hiding all the wires I could in her nightgown.
I kept asking for the wires and tubes to be removed, and being told it was impossible until the coroner arrived and gave permission. Woody stopped me several times from ripping them out myself.
We held Florence in our arms, I walked with her and rocked her and we cried.
Eventually the coroner, Rita arrived and gave permission for the tubes and wires to be removed. Finally we could see our sweet baby's face.
She was so beautiful,and I swear I could see her smiling.

We had to then endure the SUDIC (Sudden Unexplained Death In Childhood) team, their questions, their intrusion into our grief and even into our home, as Woody went home with two detectives and a specialist paediatrician so they could see where Florence was born. (Granddad and Grandma had by now taken the children to their house, they still didn't know what had happened.)

Finally the time came to leave Florence. We had to get back to our older children, but to do that we had to abandon our precious girl.
Annie's colleague suggested she hold Florence in her arms on the sofa, so we could leave her that way instead of having her taken out of the room.
We kissed our baby girl goodbye and forced ourselves out of that room, down the corridor, into the lift, down another corridor, forcing one foot in front of the other. Holding a memory box in my arms instead of a baby, my dress spattered with blood.
When I got into the car, there was the baby seat.

We arrived home to an empty house, but the children arrived soon after. We sat on the sofa, we all cried.

The children wanted to see Florence, so later that evening we went back to the hospital. The children all got to hold and kiss their baby sister, and we took photos.
The girls both took her gifts to keep with her. India gave her a little pink bunny, and Eden gave her a cushion she had made and embroidered for her.

That night the older three children cried like I never want to hear them do again. They all slept together in the same room for several days afterwards.

The last time we saw Florence was two days before her burial. She was lying on the quilt I'd made for her while pregnant, wearing the gown I'd made for her in the days after she was born, and the bonnet I'd knitted for her on holiday.
She looked like a little sleeping pixie, delicate and beautiful.

Florence was buried on 7th August 2009. The sun was shining, we watched the balloons float off into the clouds and we wept.

We are all broken hearted at the loss of our Florence Violet. She was a part of our family from the very moment she was conceived. We miss her so very much and will love her forever.
She will always be our fifth child.

The Secret Garden

I found this website a few weeks ago, and this month I decided to join in. (Click on the link above to learn more.)

What has helped you through out this new life the most. Is it your family? your faith? Support groups? A ritual? Music? Physical activity? A new interest? It could be anything. Tell us about how whatever it is has helped you. Please feel free to share photo's,videos, websites, support group information and so on.

I'm not sure how to answer this.Everything is still so fresh, we are just beginning to work out how our new normal is going to be.

The support of family and friends has been invaluable. Friends that will sit with me at my kitchen table, drink tea and let me waffle on, and cry. Friends that will send me emails, (and texts) and not get upset when I haven't the strength to reply.Friends far and near,who I know are willing me on.

Then, of course there are my older children. They, and Woody are the reason I get up every morning and fight through every day.They are the joy in my life, and I find my heart bursting with love one moment and ripped out with pain the next.

As for rituals, well we go to Florence's grave a lot. I like to keep it looking pretty. We light candles there for her and leave her fresh flowers, roses are a favourite.
We also light candles at home.

Sid has little rituals, he likes to "read" Florence's memory book, and he likes to name all the family members on a glass necklace I wear in the shape of a hugging family of seven...the littlest member is violet coloured, that's Florence.
I love Sid's four year old "matter of fact" way of talking about Florence, we grown ups could learn a lot from him.

The children have all also already decided that we will have chocolate birthday cake every year on Florence's birthday. That's of course a long way off yet,but it's important to them.

Thank You Carly

F l o r e n c e, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

I stumbled across Carly's wonderful site To Write Their Names In The Sand, a week or so ago.
Here are the pictures she took of Florence's name in the sand. I'm so so pleased with them. I think it's such a beautiful concept. If you get a minute or two please take a look at her site, and her other work helping bereaved parents.

Doves

doves, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

It's Monday morning again. The school runs start in about 25 minutes time, I've been awake from 3am, and I feel sick. I just keep telling myself "it will get easier".
Anyhow, I did manage to finish this skirt yesterday afternoon. After lots of unpicking and re designing as I went along, I think I can say I'm fairly happy with it.



A few people have asked about the post mortem and inquest after I mentioned them in an earlier post. I'm confused about them too!
Basically though, as I understand it, because Florence died unexpectedly, (the pregnancy, birth and immediately post birth were all perfect) we were obliged by law to have a post mortem, and eventually an inquest to determine the actual cause of death, although we have been led to believe that she had an undiagnosed congenital heart condition. The inquest will hopefully give more details, but may not take place for several months, and yes it's very very distressing.

I have been writing up Florence's story when I can , I might share it here when I'm ready.

Footprints

Florence footprints 2, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

Maybe I'll write more later.

Ok, so it's later, and here I am.
This past week has been just awful, last evening by the time Woody came home from work I was in my pjs and in my bed. Every bit of me was aching, I was completely exhausted, mentally and physically.
The school runs are hellish, not because people are horrid, just the opposite, everyone is lovely. I've had hugs, kisses, and moral support from every angle. All of which I am truly grateful for.
I just hate being "that poor woman", I feel like I'm walking to school with an obvious raw and bloody open wound for all the world to see.
I did finally receive Florence's hand and footprints, (and a lock of her hair) from the coroner, and hated the way they had been cut out and framed. Today I re did them, though I was limited to what I could do with them due to the way they had been cut out.
No other news from the coroner though, no post mortem results and no date for the inquest.

I have been pondering about this blog and wondering if I should start a seperate blog for my Florence posts.
I don't think I want to. I feel like I shared so much of the preperations for Florence's birth here, that it would be weird to move her somewhere else. Plus, she is a part of me, and even when posting my craft projects, she's still here with me, so I'd like to keep her as part of this blog too.
What do you think?

Jumble

vintage button, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

My brain today is one big jumble. I keep thinking of things I want to say, things I want to do,but there's this shakey feeling inside, and my mind skips about. The only time I feel calm is at Florence's grave side.
I want to tell you about the skirt I made this afternoon,but thankfully I think it speaks for itself. It's just a skirt for someone who is too fat to fit into most of her other winter skirts.







I also want to tell you about Heather's wedding, been meaning to do that for a while. Suffice to say it was a gorgeous wedding,Heather was beautiful and I hope she and Gary will always be happy together.



There's other "stuff" too, but like I said, my brain is a jumble.....