Lynne: Right Where I Am 2018: 4 years 11 months 25 days

Right where I am... 4 years, 11 months and 25 days (written on 15 July 2018)

Tomorrow 5 years ago is the day of the scan where our world fell apart. When we realised you were so sick that you would not survive. When we realised we would have to say goodbye before we’d even had the chance to say hello.

Some might say stop living in the past. Stop torturing yourself but dates and milestones are all we have. We don’t get to watch you and kiss and cuddle you every day. But you are part of our family, our lives, our past, our present and our future.

I’ve learned to ride the waves of grief. I now accept I can be plodding along just fine, happy even, when crash the floodgates open and the pain resurfaces as raw as those early days and my heart aches all over again. Dates such as tomorrow are never far from my subconscious.

But despite the pain Findlay I would never change any of it. I am so so proud to be your mummy. I treasure every single second you lived inside me, every second we spent together, taking in every single detail of you so that it would be forever etched in my memory, never wanting to forget a single thing. In some ways I welcome the pain as it makes it real. Makes you real.

In two days time we will celebrate your little brother’s 4th birthday. He talks about you. It pains me that I will never see you play together but it makes me smile knowing you will always have a bond. We smile and enjoy family time but never a day goes by that we don’t think of you and wish you were here.

Every milestone we enjoy with your brother there is a dull ache knowing we will never experience those with you. You should start school this year. You would have the same circle of friends as your brother which is heartbreaking yet comforting all at once.

20th July is your 5th birthday we will do something as a family. I know you will be with us.

I love you and miss you more and more every day precious boy. Death cannot break our bond. I will always be your mummy and you will always be my son. The greatest privilege I could have ever dreamed of.

I love you to the moon and back Findlay always and forever. Every breath I take I take for you. You will be remembered always.

Happy 5th birthday baby boy. Love Mummy xxx

Right where I am: I am living life. I am happy. I am a very lucky mummy to two special boys.

~~~~~

You can read Lynne’s previous posts here:

Right Where I Am 2017: 4 years 8 days
Right Where I Am 2016: 2 years 11 months

Right Where I Am 2015: 1 year 10 months 2 weeks 1 day

Lynne: Baby Loss Awareness Week

After losing Findlay in July 2013 I felt more alone than I'd ever felt in my whole life. How could I possibly live again. At first people were understanding and happy to listen to me talk about my much loved, much wanted, forever missed, son. The son I longed to see, to hold, to cuddle, to kiss, just one more time. The son I would have taken my last breath for just to see him take his first.

I am blessed to be surrounded by supportive family and close friends who continue to remember Findlay and understand how important it is to recognise his existence and acknowledge that he is part of our family forever.

Some have been less understanding. Some have suggested I should move on, others have suggested I should distance myself from the friendships and support networks I've been so lucky to build up with other bereaved parents as they felt it was unhealthy that I kept talking about Findlay. That I was living in the past.

I don't know one single parent that would be prepared to not talk about their child, share their memories, say their name. Why should that be different for children lost during pregnancy, shortly after birth or later in life? We do not have the privilege of making endless memories with our babies, have the pleasure of celebrating their milestones or watching them grow. Death, and the grief that follows, is part of their lives, part of their parents lives. The part that leaves a void in the parents hearts forever more.

It may not be the easiest topic to talk about but to do so could mean the world to that baby's parents.  The parents who have to live every single day of their lives hiding their broken heart. Baby loss awareness week is such an important event in the calendar. It helps parents feel empowered to talk about their babies, share their experiences, be reminded they are not alone. Please if you know someone who has lost a child let them know you remember and you care. Join us in the wave of light by lighting a candle at 7pm on 15 October. A little understanding goes a long way.

Findlay

Every day I wish

That things were different

That you hadn't had such a cruel start

That you weren't so ill that you wouldn't survive

Every day I wish

I could hold you in my arms just one more time

To kiss your perfect little cheeks and lips

And to look at your little button nose for hours on end

Every day I wish

I was able to watch you grow

Have memories of all your firsts

See you smile, crawl, walk, hear you giggle, laugh and talk

Every day I wish

I could hear you call my name

That I could be there for you

To wipe your tears and hold you tight

Every day I wish

I could tuck you in at night

Read you a story

Kiss you goodnight

Every day I wish

You were here with me

Playing with your little brother

Going to nursery, watching you grow

Every day I wish

The pain would go away

The ache in my heart

The void in my life

Despite all of that

Every day I am thankful

That you are my son

My precious first born

You made me a mummy

Every day I am thankful

For all that you have taught me

For all that you continue to teach me

Thankful for you

Miss you Findlay. Love you to the moon and back forever and ever xxx

Lynne: Right Where I Am 2017: 4 years 8 days

Last Thursday marked 4 years since the day Findlay was born, tiny, silent and still. For some reason I found this year to be harder than I thought I would. The old cliche of time being a great healer isn't always true.

The days leading up to his birthday are always hard as everything involuntarily replays over and over in my subconscious - the scan, consultant appointments, the fear and devastation then one of the saddest but without a doubt best days of my life. The day my first precious son was born. The day that Findlay made me a mummy.

Last week I found myself feeling guilty a lot as we had the chaos of a house move collapsing at the last minute so I didn't get to devote as much time to Findlay as I would have liked. At the end of a busy day though I lit a candle and took some time to reflect and think about my precious boy. In reality there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of Findlay and wonder what he would be like.

Never more so than when I look at his little brother, Cameron, who turned 3, 3 days before Findlay's birthday. Looking at their pictures I know they would have looked similar but I'll never know what little personality Findlay would have developed. Cameron loves playing with other children and I feel sad knowing that he has missed out on playing with his big brother.

Alongside the chaos of my thoughts however I am constantly reminded and thankful for the love and support shown to me by my amazing family and friends who continue to mark Findlay's special dates and say his name. This is the most important thing to me that my baby is remembered always.

Right where I am - I am breathing, I smile but my heart still aches x

~~~~~

You can read Lynne’s previous posts here:

Right Where I Am 2016: 2 years 11 months

Right Where I Am 2015: 1 year 10 months 2 weeks 1 day

Lynne: Right Where I Am 2016: 2 years 11 months

(written 20th June 2016)

One month from today will be Findlay’s 3rd birthday. Three years since the day he came into the world tiny, silent and still. The day my heart broke in two. That pain has never gone away, never dulled, never changed. I can be getting on with life quite happily then all of a sudden wham it hits me again and for a time I am once again broken. Other times it feels like it’s all been a dream, like looking in on someone else’s life. That sends me into a panic, leaving me terrified. Terrified that I’m going to forget any of the memories we have with Findlay, precious memories of the very short time we got to spend with him. I don’t think that’s something that will ever change.

A lot has changed though. There was a time I would refer to that day as the worst day of my life. I can no longer refer to it as such. It is, without a doubt, one of the hardest days of my life but it was the day I became a mummy. A mummy to such a precious, beautiful, loved little boy. Sometimes I still feel bitter and think it’s unfair that he never got a chance. My perfect little boy was never going to make it but I am blessed that he came into my life, changing me forever. I am privileged to be his mummy.

I wear my heart on my sleeve and I have always spoke openly about Findlay. I have shared photos on social media and have always felt touched by people’s kindness to acknowledge Findlay. Through time, with this support, I have felt stronger. Then earlier this year someone reported a photo of Findlay which I posted on Facebook. The actions of that one click shocked me to the core and left me feeling devastated that anyone could be so heartless, so cruel to my baby son, to his memory. I appreciate baby loss can make people feel uncomfortable but I am proud of both of my sons and want to show them off to the world. This has made me more wary of what I post and although it won’t stop me posting, I live in fear that it could happen again. I want to share my baby with the world but it is also my duty to protect him. It has left me feeling betrayed and suspicious of my Facebook ‘friends’. If I’m honest I hadn’t actually realised until now how much this is still affecting me. I truly hope whoever reported my precious photo, my precious son, never has to endure this heartache. The longing to hold my baby again. Just one more time.

Thankfully this lack of compassion, lack of understanding is not the norm and I am so blessed with the support I have received from family and friends. As I said last year, much of my healing has come from Findlay’s little brother, Cameron. My precious, handsome, clever, little rainbow who makes me smile like I never imagined. We will celebrate Cameron’s 2nd birthday on 17 July, three days before his big brother’s 3rd birthday. Such a bittersweet time but a time to celebrate the birth of both our boys. Our whole world.

Right where I am... I am strong. I am vulnerable. I am broken. I am happy. I am sad. Ultimately though I am lucky. Lucky to be mummy to two precious and special little boys and no matter what life throws at me they are my reason to keep going. I live my life to make them proud and I hope one day they will be.

Published 20th July 2016 – Happy 3rd birthday Findlay, our beautiful baby son. You live on in our hearts forever and your brother will know all about his special big brother. We love you to the moon and back Mummy, Daddy and Cameron xxxxx

~~~~~

You can read Lynne’s previous post here:

Right Where I Am 2015: 1 year 10 months 2 weeks 1 day

Lynne: Right Where I Am 2015: 1 year 10 months 2 weeks 1 day

Sometimes I feel like the last couple of years have been a dream; so much has happened it’s hard to believe it’s real.  This time two years ago I was happily pregnant with my first baby.  We were excited for the future and could never for one second have imagined the outcome.  There was no possible way to know that in around six weeks time from that point we would go for our anomaly scan and our world would fall apart as we were told our baby was too sick to survive.  On 20th July 2013 we held our beautiful tiny baby son, Findlay, in our arms.  He never breathed our air but even at that point I knew I would never be the same person I was before.

Now, almost two years later, the pain is still there, maybe not as raw as it was in the beginning but it never goes away.  Somehow, with a lot of help (special thanks to my counsellor Jeni at SANDS Lothians for this one) I have learned to live with it.  The absolute best healing has, however, come from my beautiful rainbow baby, Cameron, who has made me smile like I never thought I would ever again.  Born three days before his big brother’s 1^st birthday, the last 10 and a half months have been the happiest of my life.  Yet, with everything, bittersweet.  It’s hard not to wish that Cameron had a big brother who was here physically that he could play with and giggle with.  It’s hard not to look at Cameron and wonder if his big brother would have the same big bright blue eyes and blonde hair which is starting to develop the sweetest little curls.

I am a mother of two but only hold one baby in my arms.  I have lost count of the number of times I’ve been asked that oh so innocent question ‘is he your first?’.  At first I wanted the ground to swallow me up not wanting the other person to feel awkward, however, slowly I am learning to respond with honesty and tell them that my first baby died.  I am sorry if this makes the other person feel awkward but that is the reality I have to live with every day of my life and I will never deny either of my children.  I love them equally and they have both enriched my life in so many ways.

I feel blessed to have had the pleasure of spending even the shortest of times with Findlay and having the chance to create so many precious memories.  He is and always will be my true inspiration.  I feel blessed to have the chance to watch his little brother, Cameron, grow and develop every day, he is and always will be my world.

I always wanted two children so I could watch them grow up together.  Sadly that is not to be so right where I am is trying to decide whether I will, at any stage, be brave enough to embark on the rollercoaster of another rainbow journey.

(written 4th June 2015)