Grace’s Story

On the 19th of March 2014 I spent 12 hours with my 4th baby, my 2nd daughter and the person that would literally change my life. 

I was 22 weeks pregnant when we found out Grace was terminally ill, she had, after many,  many examinations by professors of fetal medicine, thanatophoric dysplasia. This condition meant her long bones were measuring short (at 23 weeks Grace’s week measuring 12 weeks) the fatal part of this condition causes the chest cavity to not grow enough for her heart and her lungs. So ultimately upon birth when babies try and inhale for the first time, my baby girl would die immediately from respiratory failure as her chest cavity would crush her lungs. I’m sorry if this upsets anyone reading but unfortunately you cannot pretty up this condition. 

I couldn’t bear this to happen my baby, my dad died 2 years previous from lung cancer and I watched him take his last breath. How could I watch my tiny baby struggle to breathe and then pass away… I couldn’t. 

I asked when I would be induced and my consultant sympathetically told me they can’t induce early if there is no risk to the mother as its against the law in Ireland. My baby was dying, her movements were weakening and she would inevitably die from respiratory failure but this wasn’t enough to stop her hurting anymore. I had to be at risk. I was at risk everyday that I met people asking if “I had my bits bought for the baby, how long have you left, the twins must be excited for a baby brother or sister…”  I nodded and smiled knowing the baby in the bump they were admiring was not going to be in the pram I had my eye on or sleeping in her brother’s moses basket. I spent 4 weeks nodding along to people’s excited questions. 

 I was slowly losing my mind. 

Because of the fact I couldn’t be induced at home with my family around me I had to go somewhere where they understand what me and my baby were going through… We travelled to Liverpool on Paddys weekend amongst hen parties and revellers… We arrived to Liverpool women’s hospital where the midwives took over my care, they were angels to me and my little girl. I remember saying  to my husband that morning before the final scan to check Grace, they may have made a mistake in the two hospitals we were in in Ireland, we might get good news, her chest may be growing and allow her organs to grow. 

The professor scanned me for over an hour and he confirmed the diagnosis along with the devastating news that Grace’s lungs were no longer in her chest cavity, he couldn’t find them so they were either crushed already or just didn’t develop. I knew having an early inducement was 100% the right thing to do for that tiny baby at that moment. 

After 36 hours of an agonising labour, pain I would gratefully repeat over and over again… Grace arrived silently into the world at 4.45am, she was stunning the most beautiful little angel with a button nose and chubby cheeks. She had dark hair and gorgeous plump lips. Her face was perfect and her body was tiny, she was so peaceful. I have never experienced feelings like that before, I was holding my child and felt content but she was never going to look into my face, or yawn or cry for food. She was still. 

We held her all day long and talked about what life she would have had. A priest came and gave her a little blessing. We named her Grace Saoirse because she was free. We had a nap that day with her beside us and dressed her in a beautiful outfit the midwifes gave us… The outfit I brought was way too big. She was wrapped in a teddy her sister gave her and a teddy Grace gave me… 

At 5pm we had to leave her, we were booked to fly out the next morning. The hospital had  a little nursery made up for Grace, it had a cot and a dressing table, teddies and a beautiful mural of angels on the wall. After we said our goodbyes, last cuddles and kisses to her we placed her in her cot all wrapped up cosy with her teddy.  My midwife came in and took over looking after her. 

I sometimes can’t believe I actually had to do this, I had to leave my baby in another country. How cruel it is that we had to do this, it actually leaves me speechless. 

We arranged Grace’s funeral from the prayers right to the music I wanted played. It took place in a church in Liverpool and the priest who blessed her did her funeral and a midwife attended. We couldn’t go because we simply couldn’t afford to. I has to wait 3 weeks for Grace to come home. Her ashes arrived by courier… A man knocked at my front door with my daughter’s remains waiting to be signed. Again I say I find it hard to believe this is something parents have to go through, did I actually have to sign for my daughter’s ashes like an order from ASOS… 

The next few months were a blur, I can still feel the pain and darkness of those months. The feeling of drowning and anger… I can still feel them because I still go through these feelings but I’ve learned how to control them and cope with them now. 

Grace’s ashes sit on a shelf in our living room and we bring her to our bedroom at night, there are photos of Grace in every room of our house. I sleep with her teddy every night, I actually brought her teddy away to a hotel before callum was born and he was taken to the laundry with the bed sheets, I was getting into bed at home when I noticed he was gone, the hotel found him in the laundry and posted him home from Athy! 

Grace is very much part of this house like any of the other kids. Unfortunately due to the cruelty of this country none of her family could meet her and say goodbye. 

She blessed us with callum almost a year after she passed… She gave me callum when I didn’t even realise I needed him. She’s my motivator, my gut, my soul, my heart, my courage, my bravery and my eyes… She’s changed the way I look at things. I’m not the same person I was before Grace, I miss that Tracey but I’m learning to love the one I am now. 

This is Grace’s story she was with me for just 28 weeks but she left me with a lifetime of love. Losing her could have been the reason I stopped living… But having her is the reason I get up every morning. 

If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever xxxx

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Its not just a statistic, its Me.

To lose a baby. Its such a common phrase to say, but when you have a miscarriage or a stillbirth, its feels like such a wrong turn of phrase to use for your own baby. But what else do you say? I had 2 miscarriages and a stillbirth and I didn’t “lose” any of my pregnancies or babies, they died. Miscarriage and stillbirth has been in the media lately due to Kim Marsh’s hard hitting and raw portrayal of a mum “losing her baby”. Obviously it wasn’t a portrayal she went through the horrific experience of giving birth to her sleeping baby at 21 weeks. She is now campaigning for babies in the UK born before 24 weeks to be issued a birth cert. The same law is in place here, ridiculously.

Miscarriage and stillbirth (and I use those words separately because they are not the same) are so very common, but yet there is still a problem talking about them. People don’t know what to say so they say nothing or sometimes say the wrong thing unknowingly. Women who have early miscarriages feel like because people may not have known they were pregnant, they cant speak about their loss. But they want nothing more than to talk about the baby they should be still pregnant with, they know exactly how many weeks they should be or the size their baby should be, be it a peanut or a melon. But they’re usually just sitting there with friends or work colleagues nodding their head to how everyone’s weekends went. When a woman is further along in her pregnancy and has to give birth to her sleeping baby, a lot of people in all their well-meaning ways, avoid talking about the baby or saying the babies name. I don’t know if its an Irish thing, traditionally women were told to move on and try again, whats the use in dwelling over it, put it out of your mind… Bereaved parents are sometimes treated like lepers, people avoid them rather than talk about what has happened them. People want them to “Get over” their loss as soon as possible, so things stop being awkward.

I remember after my baby girl died, I met up with a friend for coffee months later and while we gently talked about what happened, she didn’t shy away from talking about Grace and saying her name throughout the conversation. It was the first time I had heard somebody else say her name in a normal conversation bar her dad, it was so comforting and I felt a little bit like myself, because I am a mum, wouldn’t it be strange if people didn’t mention my other living children in a conversation, wouldn’t it be strange if they purposefully avoided saying their name? Yes it would and that’s what it is like when people avoid talking about the loss of a baby. OF COURSE the parents may not want to talk about it, but mention their loss, don’t go out of your way to avoid it.
Even now when I mention my miscarriages or Grace I can see people shift in their seat just a little, simply because they don’t know how to speak about it with me or maybe they are worried mentioning my babies name will make me burst into tears. Remember women want you to speak their babies name, they want you to recognise they have had a miscarriage or a stillbirth, it is not taboo. Maybe there’s a stigma with it because they cannot see the hurt. If they broke their leg, people would see the hurt and the pain. When my friends called to my house after Grace died, one of the first things I did when they arrived was show them her pictures, it seemed to settle their nerves, they could see her and saw how beautiful she was and talking about my loss and her was somewhat easier.

Miscarriage and stillbirths, like most taboo topics need to be talked about more. Make it okay for a woman to feel its okay to talk about her pregnancy with her friends and family, even though she may not have gotten to hold her baby from that pregnancy. Allow her to talk about her babies beautiful chubby cheek or long fingers, even if that baby never took a breath, allow her to speak about her child like any other mum, don’t feel like you need to steer the conversation away from pregnancies or babies. These women have not moved on from their losses they have simply learned to live with them and part of this is to talk about their babies and their losses. Long gone are those days when women were told “try again a healthy baby will heal you”.
I now find it therapeutic to talk about my losses. I had a missed miscarriage at 12 weeks and 4 months later I miscarried again. We had just gotten married and couldn’t wait to extend our family, I naively thought it would be as easy as it was to get pregnant and give birth to my oldest daughter 8 years previous, by our 1st wedding anniversary I had suffered 2 miscarriages and was in A&E with a suspected third. Luckily that was to be our twin boys, they hung in there and were born 6 weeks early healthy and happy. Naivety got the better of me again when I was pregnant with my forth baby, I was shitting myself sitting in the sonographer’s room at my 12 week scan that I would see nothing on the monitor again, but all was fine, strong heartbeat and no problems. I could relax and enjoy the rest of my pregnancy. Grace was born sleeping at 28 weeks in March 2014, hers is a story that I replay in my head at least twice a day. One day I will tell her story because it deserves to be told. For right now though, I am content enough to say this much about my angel, she was a stunning little baby, dark hair, gorgeous little lips and a button nose. Perfection. She was perfection.

So that is my two cents about pregnancy loss, I suppose if you could take away something from this bit of a ramble, it would be to ask that friend who you know lost a baby, how are they now or just give them a hug…or if you lost a baby, talk about them, talk about your pain, if that’s what you want to do. If you want, talk to me. Message me, rant to me whatever you want. PM me on Facebook or Instagram or whatever, but if you want to talk about your loss and you feel you cannot to your own family or friends, please don’t hesitate to contact me. I have added some websites that may offer more professional advice or help.

Lots of Love

Tracey xx

Miscarriage Association of Ireland

Feileacain

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