Balloon of Life, Day 2

Day 2 of balloon release, or really day 3, since we released one the day before his birthday. But here it is,

Balloon of Life, Day 2

 

No photo of me and the balloon today, as due to my beach walk yesterday, and resulting cold hives, I’m in a massive flare and look awful. Hence this balloon was released in my garden, as I’m in a lot of pain.

And I thought I’d do a flashback photo of Gideon this time last year. He was not even a day old when this was taken, but he was so incredibly cute.

 

Oh I miss him so much. It’s hard to believe that it’s been a whole year since he was born. I can’t even imagine how big he would be now. I can’t imagine my life if he’d survived.

 

Thoughts on Today

Honestly I imagined today would be impossibly hard. But I was so focused on getting everything organized for his cake, and inflating his (giant) balloon and releasing them, and all the rest of the planning that it kept me going pretty much all day.

Really, everyone says the lead up to the day is much worse than the actual day, and it’s true. I was pleased to be able to celebrate my son’s life, one way or another. Sure, it isn’t how I wanted to celebrate my son’s first birthday, I wanted him to be in my arms, I wanted him to eat cake – well mash it into his face and clothes. I wanted him to laugh and smile, I wanted to laugh and smile. This wasn’t my dream at all.

But considering things, it truly was the best it could be.

And, I was so pleased with the response from all my friends, all the pictured I’ve received, I have been truly overwhelmed with love and support. I am making a scrapbook of everything, but I think I will make another video of all the wonderful things people did for Gideon.

As a quick preview, here are some things we did today.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Now You are One

From balloons to candles,
I have remembered you,
The days you lived,
Your life within me,
Breaking dawn on Giddy day,
Soul drawn through darkness,
Into the light of your memory,
Gideon, so wanted, so loved,
I share with you my life,
My eternity,
The heartbeat of my hope.

xxx

Happy Birthday my Gideon

1 year ago today I met you for the first time.

That day was the hardest and most amazing day of my life.

I’d had pains for a few nights, but nothing I understood to be labour. Just back pains. I didn’t think there was anything to worry about.

Really I was in denial. I didn’t want you to come so soon, I knew your life would be in danger.

This night, one year ago, I realised my “back pain” was coming every 2-3 minutes. But still I was in denial.

By the time I agreed to let the nurses check me, they could see hair.

I laboured with you and birthed you like any other baby. And through it all, your heart rate never once slowed down, you never showed signs of distress, you just carried on kicking me throughout, so calm, so sure.

At about 12:45am, you finally came out, and you came out to prove those doctors wrong. Although your lungs were very underdeveloped you managed a small squeaky cry before they wrapped you up in clingfilm and intubated you.

I could see you trying to hit them away as they tried to look at you.

You didn’t want them, you wanted me. I could only lie there, not knowing what was happening as they worked on you on the other side of my delivery room. No one told me anything, I couldn’t see you very well. The nurses were trying to look after me, and get me to birth the placenta, but all I cared about was you.

Eventually someone told me that they had managed to get the ventilation tube down your throat, and I was happy. It was a great start. As they wheeled you out the room  you gave me a sleepy wave, as if to say, “I’m OK mummy, see you soon,”

Your first photo - taken by daddy to reassure me

 

It was 3 long hours later that I actually got to see you. I didn’t know if you were OK, I didn’t know what was happening to you, I could only imagine what you looked like. Eventually,  they called me to the SCBU, they told me you had apgars of 8 – amazing for a 26 weeker they told me would never be born alive. And it was with fear and excitement I walked down that corridor, washed my hands, and finally was allowed in to see you, my most beautiful boy.

My little Gideon, we meet at last.

I cried, it broke my heart to see you with the tubes and all those wires. But at the same time, my heart surged with love. I felt like I’d always known you and always loved you. And I never wanted to let you go. From then on, my life was all about you!

My Gideon, my sweet little boy. I love you, and I miss you. The time you spent with us on earth meant everything to me, and it is this that I try to remember and celebrate. Although I cry today for the loss of someone so perfect and so dear to me, I rejoice for that time I had with you, and that you live on forever, in my heart, in my memories, and in the arms of the angels.

Rest well my prince, know we are always thinking of you. And you are never, ever forgotten.

 

I made this video for today. A overview of our year with Gideon in our hearts.

 

 

With a little help from my friends

As we all know, it’s Gideon birthday on Friday. I am planning on making a scrapbook of everything that happens on his birthday, I’m making cake, releasing balloons, lighting candles etc.

And I’ve asked that anyone who would like to do something for Gideon, like releasing a balloon, or lighting a candle, or writing his name in the sand, anything really, then I would really appreciate it, and if you could take a photo of it then I could put it in my scrapbook. I may even make a video of them.

It would really mean the world to me if anyone could do something for my little Gideon, to know that he is being remembered in the smallest ways across the world. It doesn’t have to be much, it doesn’t need to cost anything, even if you just want to say a little prayer for him, you could even send me a message or email with the prayer and I’ll write in my scrapbook with your name, it would truly mean the world to me.

But even if you can’t or don’t feel like doing anything on Friday, please just take a moment to think about my little Gideon, take a moment to hold your children, if you have any, take a moment to remember the love of a parent missing her child, and the strength of a sweet little boy, who fought through so much pain and suffering to stay with us for 4 weeks without water and 17 days in special care. Just so we could know him, and love him.

My Gideon loved and missed.

I can’t believe it’s on Friday

I knew it was coming, but I honestly find it hard to beleive it’s really happening.

I think somewhere along the way I was expecting a miracle. And I’m not talking about getting my rainbow, but that too, but an actual miracle. A miracle where I would wake up and it would be before pPROM, and my Gideon would still be OK. Or the sort of miracle where I would wake up and Gideon would be alive, that sort of the miracle. The biblical kind of miracle.

I’m sensible enough to realise that those sort of miracles don’t happen to people like me, in the same way Gideon never got the miracle that would have saved his life. But it never stopped me hoping that somehow I would never have to face this day without Gideon in my arms. No mother should have to face their child’s birthday without their baby. No mother should have to visit their child’s grave instead.

I’m still waiting for a miracle here.

Even if it’s a rainbow rather than the biblical kind of miracle.

How long will I have to wait?

Mother’s Day in Baby Loss Land

Today is Mother’s Day in the UK. It’s a very hard day for mother’s of angels with no living children.

Last mother’s day was the happiest of my life.

I got to hold my son for the first time, he hadjust come off his vent and was on CPAP. The nurses came up to me and asked, “So, is he coming out to play?” and I had no idea what they meant, I just said “what?” and they asked if I wanted to hold him. My heart leapt when they said that, and I just nodded in shock.

They sorted out all his wires, and bundled him into his blanket and nest and laid him in my arms. I cannot explain that feeling of having him in my arms. I looked down at him, he looked so peaceful there, he hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but I could see how happy he was to be held. I burst into tears, I was so happy. I could barely believe he was mine.

It was the most amazing moment of my life.

I felt like a mummy at last.

The happiest moment of my life

Oh how I wish it was THAT mother’s day now. Even if it meant going through it all again, just for that one moment.

A decision…

This month I thought I was pregnant. I had  a two day implantation dip, just like on Gideon’s cycle, I had a big temp rise, the day after, higher than my temperature has been since I was pregnant…and I thought….I actually hoped. I even tested and of course it was negative. Then my temperature dropped big time today and I realised I was stupid to ever hope.

I am crushed beyond belief. So I’ve made a decision, I can’t keep doing this forever, I can’t keep going month after month with a broken heart, believing that it’s going to be my turn soon…well..it’s not. I have 213 days left of my membership to fertility friend, my charting site. When that expires, I’m done.

The NHS has already made it clear they aren’t going to help me, I’m going to pay for a private hycosy to check my tubes but after that I have nothing. And I just can’t keep doing this every month.

I had a lot of friends on fertility friend, a lot of people who I have really got to know and I know I have helped hundreds of people through their losses and their pain. And I will be so sad to go, but I can’t keep going on there everyday watching everyone else get pregnant, and get their rainbows, while I’m no closer at all. I can’t. I saw a woman the other day, with a healthy baby born in July 2011 who is 18 weeks pregnant already.

I can’t keep watching others get pregnant while I get left behind. I just can’t, it breaks my heart. I’m so happy when one of my baby loss mother’s get their bfp, but it also reminds me that I’m a year later and no closer to my rainbow.

I just can’t do it.

So 213 days – 30.4 weeks. BFP or bust. I can’t afford to go private to have IUI’s and IVF’s, I can’t adopt for a long time either. So, I’m going to try and let go of those unrealistic dreams of having a family and make something of my life without children. I’m going to take the next train that comes my way, instead of living my life waiting at a station for a train that’s never going to come. I can’t live my life perpetually waiting.

Let’s see where that train takes me.