A Mother’s Grief – 7 years On.

a mothers grief

Today is my daughter’s 7th Birthday. She was born and died at 4.45am on the 19th March 2014. Today is Grace’s Birthday.

Grief is weird….and I mean that in the most basic terminology. Nobody will truly understand it or when to expect it. There is no rhyme nor reason with grieve – the only time I could truly understand it and meet it head on was at the very beginning of my journey.

Those raw, roaring, loud, deep, drowning first moments – first days – first weeks. Grief is almost tangible then, you can feel it in the room – you can feel that huge mass of black swirling around your entire body and taking your breath away.

As time goes by – the grief morphs and this is when it becomes an enigma. You cannot expect how it will affect you, it can creep up silently or knock you over when you least expect it. That huge mass of swirling black we felt at the beginning is alive but silent – like an active volcano, always activity under the service, we always feel the pain deep in the pit of our stomachs, but sometimes when we least expect it 7 years on, 17 years on it bubbles up to the service and makes itself visible once more. Once more you can almost reach out and touch it, you can wrap your arms around it as it takes you on its own journey you have no idea where you will end up.

The 18th of February to 19th March each year – we go on a journey. We walk into that sonographers room and we get the news of Grace’s condition, we make the journey to Dublin and have it confirmed. We make the decision to deliver her early in the UK, I relive those 4 weeks begging for help from someone. I relive that airport, the plane, the Paddy’s Day celebrations in Liverpool, pizza hut for our last meal as 3, having a coffee in Marks and Spencer to pass the time while we waited to be admitted. The colour of the ward in Liverpool Womens Hospital, the smell, the fear, the unknown, the pain, the waiting, the pain, then days later after one last push and my last duty as her mother, silence. The 19th of March Grace was here in our arms. We had 12 hours with her, took 10 photos and a live with a lifetime of pure love and pure pain.

This year, Grace’s 7th birthday is a hard one. Maybe its because I cannot get to the place we spend all her birthdays – the Beach – maybe its because of this bloody lock-down – who knows. This is a hard one. Time does not make things easier – it doesn’t become easier – you become an expert and learning to balance that black mass swirling inside you and everyday life. It is you, not time that make things more bearable – you do this with your strength. I do this with my strength. Sometimes though, on days like today – its okay to let go of that grip and just let it be – just allow yourself to ‘feel’, to sleep, to scream, to go to bed throw the covers over your head and leave everyone outside. If you can.

So today I write this piece in the hope it helps someone to understand – there is no right time to feel better, there is no right emotion to go through. We will have bad days and that’s okay, if you need to stop. Sit down and just be – and then once again we will have days when that black swirling mass is less heavy and you can carry it better… you laugh, you give out, you gossip, you work, you shop, you live your life and that, is living with grief.

Happy 7th Birthday to my darling baby Girl Grace xxxx

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The Greater the Storm the Brighter the Rainbow

So Tomorrow is the big day! March for Choice 2017. Myself and Chloe will be making our way up to the big smoke for our first march. I remember last year seeing images from TFMR placing their white roses outside the Dail, it was so poignant.

I have always been pro-choice.

It is my opinion to have no opinion on another person’s body choices especially a woman. I have always believed if a woman needs to have an abortion because lets face it, an abortion is a need not a want, she should be granted to basic right of the choice. But I have been ignorant in the past. I closed my ears and eyes to things that didn’t affect me.  You know what happened though…

It affected me and scarred me.

By now some will be aware I became directly affected by the 8th amendment when I delivered my daughter Grace in Liverpool’s Womens after almost 36 hours of labour with her.

Continue reading

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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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