Third Heaven Birthday

Happy Birthday my Gideon

My little Giddy angel…three years ago today I met you for the first time. You were so small, gorgeously cute  but you seemed so fragile. I had no idea just how strong you were, and how much fight you had.

Your strength gives me strength, even in the hardest times. It’s not been an easy year so far and I don’t expect it to get any easier. But I know your strength Gideon, is with me always.

I miss you little man, I miss you so much. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of you. I hope you are having a wonderful time in heaven eating clouds and making rainbows with all the other angel babies.

You are my inspiration. Thank you for coming to us and fighting to stay as long as you could.

You are never forgotten sweet angel. Never.

You are rejoiced.




It is March

As this month sneaks up on me, with the 30th March approaching fast. my mind turns to the little boy missing in our chaotic lives. My mind knows that this time 3 years ago I was in hospital, pregnant, desperately hoping for a good outcome. I don’t need to calculate the dates for my mind to know this, I just get a feeling, that ache that is always there, but it gets stronger, it takes over my whole body. It reminds me of those feelings, that hurt, that fear, that desperation.

The intense missing of little Gideon.

These next couple of months are always hard for me. I want to celebrate him, remember him – every single cell of his tiny body. Every moment we spent together. But I ache for him, the loss of my little angel, the boy that had everything stacked against him, but still fought like a warrior.

I spend most of the year telling myself to try and find peace with everything that happened, and then I approach this date, and a frenzy of emotions overwhelms me. I want to do everything, I want to celebrate him in a thousand ways and remember him in every moment of our lives. I miss him, I long for him. I ache to hold him in my arms again.

I look at my little earth boy – Benedict, my wonderful, ever-spirited rainbow, running around the house squeaking hyperactively, and I see the shadow of what could have been – should have been. The older brother hyper alongside him, causing chaos and making mummy exhausted. I sometimes see Gideon in him still, even though Benedict is so much bigger now. I can’t even begin to imagine just how small my Gideon was. When Benedict holds little Giddy bear, and I remember that Giddy bear was as big as Gideon, I can’t fathom it.

To me. My Gideon…was as tall as mountains. And just as strong.

And even in the hardest day, the longest day, the most spirited, determined of toddler days. There are always moments of wonder and beauty and not a day passes where I don’t think of him and thank him for that, even if the thought is in passing. I think of him, I acknowledge him, he is as much a part of my daily thought processes as getting out of bed, eating, changing nappies…breathing.

Yes, especially breathing, because even when I’m not consciously thinking of him, consciously remembering, even when I’m too caught up in the daily chaos of life to stop and think, I am still remembering.

He is ingrained in my heart.

To Be Remembered…

I was chasing Benedict through a shopping centre today. He feels he must run everywhere, so I must therefore chase him. We stopped near a Welsh band, and waited to hear them play. I noticed a woman collecting for charity nearby, but not who she was collecting for. She looked vaguely familiar. As I was watching Benedict chat to an old woman, I turned to see the charity woman approach and she said to me, through the din of the shopping centre, “We have a statue for Gideon in the garden you know, we speak to him all the time,” the words made no sense at first. Gideon? How did this woman know about my Gideon? And then I saw her badge “Ty Croeso,” the wonderful place where we stayed during Gideon’s NICU stay. She was the manager.

I just stared at her. It felt oddly out of place, seeing her in that shopping centre, where I shop all the time. In the month of Gideon’s third birthday too. “We still remember him” she said and I could barely speak for the swelling of my soul with happiness and pride. They remember him, they remember my little boy. Three years later, there is a statue in a garden, and strangers remembering my son. I whispered to her through the lump in my throat, “thank you, it means so much to me….” and took a breath, “it really does.”

I introduced her to Benedict, who was engaging half of Wales in conversation and promised to come visit her and the garden. I plan to do so this month. We always planned to visit, but part of me was scared they wouldn’t remember us..and that would have broken my heart a little bit.

To think a little garden ornament stands in a garden, for my precious little angel. To know that he is remembered and thought about. That his time on this earth, left deep imprints that will never fade…

What more could any angel mother want?