I feel like my life is divided into two: Pre pPROM and post pPROM. Before pPROM we were this happy, excited couple, so thrilled at the idea of being parents. We’d been though many hard times and expected pregnancy to be hard, but we’d made it past all the danger points and had actually begun to believe we were going to get our happy ending. We were innocent and we believed, then this terrible event and welcome post pPROM. Suddenly we have to face the reality that the universe isn’t fair, that there really is no happy endings, that ANYTHING can happen, and it will.

I always believed I was unlucky, but now…I can barely fathom the idea that all this has happened to me. But then I think of those 17 days, I had them, I had 17 days with the most fantastic and amazing baby in the world. I am mother to an angel, Gideon was and is special. I had that. That makes me luck, not unlucky. But I still should’ve got to bring my boy home, I fell that this wasn’t how it was supposed to end. I always believed in fate and destiny, I always…knew when bad things were going to happen. No on ever died in my family without me “knowing” first. Sixth sense, psychic, intution, whatever you want to call it, I knew when bad things were going to happen…except this time. This time, there was no warning, no sense of dread, no feeling, nothing. pPROM was mostly a huge surprise to me, and I’m not used to surprises! The only inkling I got was a moment of clarity where I said (jokingly) to Gideon inside me, when I’d had some pain, “we’re not even 24 weeks yet, you need to hold on for another couple of weeks” an hour later my waters broke. And I’d had some dream of Gideon being born prematurely, but not of him dying, and they didn’t seem prophetic dreams, and every pregnant women gets those type of dreams so I thought nothing of it.

But I felt no knowledge at all, the day my Gideon died I had no inkling that this would be the day I lost my boy. I did not feel his death before it came.

But the omens. I never really believed in omens, but I think back and there were some. In the couple of weeks before pPROM, every plant died in my house. Every plant, even my “lucky” bamboo I’d had for years, my mother managed to rescue one after I was in hospital, but literally all my plants up and died at once for no reason. I even got a carbon monoxide detector in case that was causing it. I remember saying to JD, “that can’t be a good sign,” but it was jokingly, it wasn’t serious. But I think back, and it was strange, it was more than strange it was frightening. Every plant dying?

Then two days before I lost my Gideon, we were sitting in the conservatory of the house attached to the hospital, with my mother. and we looked out and saw a single raven. He was watching us, he was alone, he was staring at us! I was surprised, not having seen many ravens before, especially not here. I asked “are ravens bad luck” because I knew they were, and we all sort of brushed it off. Raven’s, the so-called carriers of the soul. He sat and watched us until we left.

These are just some thoughts that keep occurring to me, it’s good to get thoughts out. This pre and post pPROM is confusing me, I am actually struggling to place events, the weeks in hospital seem surreal, so I will remember doing something and have to think if it happened pre-pPROM because it seems like it happened yesterday. It is almost like I can just remove that pPROM chunk of time from my life and I could still be pregnant, if  that makes any sense. I just want to be pregnant again actually, I didn’t at first, but now I just want it so badly, and I know I can’t of course, not for a while, and not until the consultant actually does some tests and we have a plan for the next pregnancy. Who knows if I even can get pregnant again, we tried for so long, it may have just been a fluke getting pregnant that one time.

So many thoughts. All normal of course.

I will write what happened on the day of my pPROM soon, that my be therapeutic since I keep going over and over it in my head.


Found his stone

We chose his stone today. It’s a white book to sit in front of my father’s stone. I was going to put my poem on one side, but I think it’s too long so I wrote something small for him.

On my way home tomorrow, got a whole house to sort out, I left it to my other half for 6 weeks, so it needs a lot doing to it, lots of cleaning and sorting. That will keep my mind busy for a while. And the midwife is coming to see me on Friday.

Gideon rests

Today was the funeral. It was small and beautiful. JD carried his coffin in to the chapel, and to the graveside, I managed to read him his poem, although I had to pause to compose myself a couple of times. His coffin was so small, and the tiny flower cross on top was perfect, with yellow flowers and green foliage. It was so sad saying goodbye to Gideon, I knew it would be hard, but it was also good to lay him to rest at last. Nothing can prepare you for burying your baby.

Gideon held the rain off just long enough for the funeral, it rained as we came back in.

Gideon’s Poem:

You were born too early,

But fought so hard to stay,

God saw your suffering,

And took your pain away.

He gave you wings of angels,

And took you in his hands

He held your tiny body,

And showed you endless lands,

And now you are my angel,

Watching from above,

But you are still my Gideon,

And you still have our love.

And you are not alone,

And alone you’ll never be,

We will see you one day soon,

In God’s eternity.

Trying to adjust

I wrote him the poem I’ll read at his funeral today, I won’t upload it right now. But I think it’s right.

I am trying to adjust to not being pregnant, to not having my Gideon. I keep thinking I can go see him, but then I realise I can’t. I am still getting emails from sites telling me about my week in pregnancy, I have pregnancy and birthday tickers everywhere. We were so excited about being pregnant. We tried for so long, I never dreamed it would end this way. Even if I knew though, I would still go ahead with getting pregnant, I wouldn’t change those 17 days for anything in the world.

But all I want is my boy back, I dream that he can come back to me in another pregnancy, but I know this isn’t true, it’s just a dream.

The funeral looms, and I wonder how I will hold it together long enough to stand up and read his poem, I don’t know if I can, I don’t know if I can find the words through the tears. JD says he will read it if I can’t, but I really want to, for him.

We are planning on going away somewhere during his due date, JD booked off 2 weeks around his due date to spend time with him, we don’t want to be around the house during that time, so we’ll go somewhere, maybe to Italy, and take Gideon in our hearts.

Soon though, we’ll need to go back to our house, to our lives, and try to carry on, without our baby. I don’t want things to go back to the way they were before Gideon, that would mean his life made no long term impact on our world. I want things to be different because he lived, to be better. But I don’t know how. Life should be different, we are parents, parents without our baby, but still parents. Parents to an angel. That has to change something doesn’t it?

My beautiful baby boy

He looked so beautiful and so peaceful, all wrapped up in his blanket. He looked just like his daddy, and he looked like he was sleeping. It was what I needed I think. Seeing him like that, with his teddy at his feet, was exactly what I needed. He didn’t look like himself any more last time I saw him, but now he looked so wonderful and so amazingly peaceful that I feel more at peace myself. And they had put the new sleepsuit on him, and left the other one for me, and amazingly it smelt like him, after he died he didn’t smell like himself anymore, but his little sleepsuit smelt like him and I will treasure it always.

It will never be easy, I will always miss him, and think about him. He will always be my first born, my son, my fantastic little angel. I placed my angel statue at the end of his coffin, to watch over him in heaven. And I told him I’d love him always. Tuesday is going to be so hard though, and I know that. But I’ll carry Gideon with me in my heart, and use his love to find the inspiration to help others, get fit and raise money for other babies, keep pumping for preemies, write children’s books and plant lots of trees, all in Gideon’s name,

And one day I’ll hold in my arms again too.

So many trees already

I can barely believe how many trees my little boy has already – 33! That is so amazing. A big thank you to everyone who has donated and those that  have just visited his page, keep remembering him.

I am going to see him today, to put his last teddy in his coffin, the lion – the first thing we ever bought for him. A lion to watch over him. I am a little frightened of seeing him because I know it wont look like him anymore, but I know this is something I have to do. This is the last physical thing I can really do for him, apart from hold him in the car on the way to the cemetary.

I am trying to write him a poem for the day, but I am finding it so hard. Normally the words come so easily to me, but not now. I wrote him a poem for the book of remembrance in the chapel of the hospital. With JD’s input, we managed something that was perfect.

Sweetest little boy,

Our hearts are filled with love,

We will see you always,

In every cloud above.

Gideon’s Grove

We have set up Gideon’s Grove, all the trees he accumulates will be planted in Autumn. Here is the link to his page,

For those of you that would like to, you can donate a tree for £5 no matter where in the world you are. One day we will get fit enough to go see his grove, it is in the wilderness so we’ll need to be fit. But I can’t wait for the day when I get to go to his grove and see the trees that will grow forever.