Happy News!!!

I am delighted to introduce you to baba number three :)

 Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!!!!!

This is baby at 18 weeks. I am now 22+2 weeks and due on July 1st. We couldn't be more thrilled!! This is a thoroughly nerve wrecking time having lost Olivia so recently but I'm trying to stay positive and enjoy the ride. My initial feeling was to keep this pregnancy private but I have had a change of heart.

This blog won't be for everyone, it certainly won't appeal to most of my beauty blog readers but I will post about my pregnancy weekly just as I did on my last pregnancy. I will also update with things that are on my mind, products I'm buying, dealing with loss, being high-risk, trying to conceive, pcos issues but also document what it's like to move forward with a new pregnancy having experienced a loss. I am hopeful and excited. But the truth is that I'm also terrified.

I have blogged each week of pregnancy so far with bump pics but I kept it set to private while I decided if this log was for me or to share. I'm really happy to be able to share this. I will post my pics and posts so far in the next few days.

I would love to hear how you're getting on - with your pregnancies, trying to conceive, with the kiddies you have or if you have experienced a loss, whatever it is I hope you can feel you can share.

Onwards and upwards in 2013!

With much love,

Amy x

Dealing with Pregnancy loss... Miscarriage, stillbirth, neonatal death.

I'm writing this not to be morbid but to show that things do move forward, even when you can't ever move on. Even when you expect the world to end. When Olivia died I went online and tried to find others who had lost babies as a way to understand what was happening to me. What I learned most of all was that I wasn't going crazy, I was normal. So here I am bearing my soul today, it's painful but if one other parent finds this and realises that they're going to be ok, my job is done.

The good stuff

I have mentioned before that I have lovely memories of labour and delivery. It really was amazing. Adrenaline still takes over, your body knows it still has a job to do. It felt natural and normal somehow. It was too late for an epidural so I gave birth the old fashioned, pain-free way. It was lovely. I also have nice memories of spending time with her over the following days and the day of her ceremony was beautiful.  Being able to hold her, have our family and friends see her, my husband dressing her, I am so grateful for all those memories.

The worst times

I am going to list the worst things I remember, most are too painful to talk about, before I go on to the moving forward part. I do this because I know some of you will relate and also because people are afraid to talk about this stuff. For the most part I now feel differently about the things on this list.

*Confusion over feeling movement when I moved against the bump after the news and before delivery
*My husbands pain
*Having her in my tummy but knowing she wasn't alive
*Milk coming in - nature can be very, very cruel. Terrorising.
*Looking pregnant for a few days after delivery - people giving you that knowing smile but they were wrong.
*Instinct - my body telling me I should be looking after my baby, hearing phantom cries etc. I cleaned the house like mad the day after I have birth. My body was telling me to take care of her but I had no baby.
*Feeling like I killed her. I knew it, I didn't think it. She was perfect and my body killed her. I've always felt my body, mind and soul together make me who I am and each one affects the other. This lead me to blame myself. 
*Leaving the hospital with my pillow and a memory box instead of a baby like everyone else.
*Walking through the front door with said pillow and memory box instead of our baby
*Seeing her clothes in the press
*Empty arms
*Empty tummy
*Cancelling the order for the double stroller and the lady asking why. 
*Not looking pregnant any more a week after delivery, back in pre-pregnancy jeans; I had nothing to show for what I went through. No baby, not even a stretchmark or a section scar. That was difficult. 
*Seeing baby sisters together for the first few months
*Babies with dark hair for the first few weeks, as Eve is blonde and Olivia was dark
*Cremation. Can't say more.  
Empty arms, empty arms, empty arms.

Have do you go on?

I don't know. But you do. For me the first three weeks were a blur of horror. I screamed over and over again, I want my baby, I just want my baby - even thinking about the pain I was in has made the tears come. That was my darkest time. After 3 weeks the unbearable days became every second day. Then a few good days followed by one bad, back to a few good ones. After 8 weeks had passed I had an unbearable morning or afternoon or night but never all day. By 12 weeks I was having a bad hour here and there during the week. Now 6 months on I still cry, I still grieve but I mostly smile and I'm mostly happy.
Everyone is different. Let it happen whatever way it happens. My husband and I decided together before I gave birth that we would let the agony flow in, however unbearable it was we weren't going to hide from it or try brush it under the carpet. It was torture. We got through it.You go from surviving one minute at a time, to one hour, to one afternoon, to one day. The loss never goes away I hear, you never stop missing your baby, no other pregnancy or baby can replace what you have lost but you do move forward somehow and life does get better.

How do I cope?

* On bad nights I slept with her picture frame in my arms.
* I keep a journal. I don't write in it all the time, only when I need to. Every few months they say you can look back and see how far you've come. They recommend not reading it too close to the time you wrote it as it can drag you back.
* I wrote a list of every single positive thing that came from having and losing Olivia. Every detail. It was three pages long. I read this list any time I'm consumed by the bad memories.
* I spend time with her by doing things like going through her memory box, holding her bunny or blanket, looking at photos.
* Scrapbooking - I would never have thought of this if it weren't for the A Little Lifetime Foundation. My favourite way to spend time with her is to make her scrapbook. That being said, some days it's too hard. Other days I enjoy it. You have to go with the mood you're in that day.
* Accepting that life in bitter-sweet. Eve and my husband make me so happy. Despite the sadness I feel I am still happy. Every event we experience has a bitter-sweet edge. For example, Christmas was so fun watching Eve but I know in your heart that my other baby was supposed to have a place at the dinner table this Christmas.
* At the beginning I accepted what happened after reading about early onset severe pre-eclampsia. The science of what happened offered me comfort - my baby wasn't singled out. It's nature, it can be amazing and it can be cruel. This also helped me deal with the feeling that I was to blame. My body was sick and it let Olivia down but the reason it happened couldn't be helped. Nothing I could have done would have changed it.
* Knowing that had they delivered her when I was admitted to hospital and not waited she might not have lived long. The blood supply had been cutting off slowly for a number of weeks. It was not a sudden thing. Her growth was being restricted before my symptoms showed.
*Knowing that she has brought us all closer together.
*Trying to look for the good in every little thing. It's there.
*Seeing a counsellor to deal with grief. I can say things to her I can't say to my family.
*Mostly I cope by taking one day at a time.

Advice

I have been contacted my so many mothers and fathers who have lost babies.  I'm no expert but my only advice to anyone who has lost a baby is - Let it come. It's the only way to move through it. However horrible and unbearable it is, let it come.

Take care of yourselves,

Amy x

Early Onset Pre-eclampsia - Don't wait!

Hi everyone,

I have never really talked about what happened to Olivia. I thought that if I could make one more person aware that writing about it might be of benefit. It also might do me some good to get if off my chest.

Olivia's official cause of death was Severe Early Onset Pre-Eclampsia. She had IUGR (Intra Uterine Growth Restriction) as a result of this. We declined a post-mortum having seen the state of the placenta and my symptoms, I already knew what the cause was.

The pre-eclampsia increased my blood pressure - although it was only to normal levels in hospital terms, for me it was very high. This affected blood flow to the baby. The blood vessels into the placenta grew thick and the blood wasn't reaching the placenta properly which caused certain spots on it to die.  This continued to happen until more of the surface area was covered until Olivia wasn't getting enough blood to survive. The scary part - besides the "normal" blood pressure was that I had a scan 3 days before she died and everything looked fine, they couldn't even find an obvious problem when the scanned me after her heart stopped.

My intent is not to scare monger but to highlight to pregnant women that you can't put you health in someone else's hands. I should have gone straight to hospital in Lanzarote as soon as my blood pressure climbed and protein showed in my urine. Since the origins of pre-eclampsia are thought to be in early pregnancy when the blood vessels and placenta are being formed it was unlikely that Olivia would have been ok had she been delivered at that stage. She had not grown since 28 weeks and I was 32 weeks.

I should point out that what happened to Olivia was extreme, not the norm. While it's common to have late onset pre-eclampsia on your first pregnancy, it's uncommon to have early onset pre-eclampsia on you second after the late episode.

Early Onset and Late Onset Pre-eclampsia have different rates of recurrences and morbidity. I wish I had have known that it was different from what I experienced on Eve. I would have run straight to a hospital. My understanding is that before 34 weeks is considered early onset and is much more serious.

The cause of pre-eclampsia in unknown but the symptoms can be obvious. I would urge you to see your doctor or midwife if you are concerned at all. Even a quick phone call will put your mind at ease. They will let you know if you need to come in. 

The symptoms: You may have only one of these or a combination. They show after 20 weeks.

• Protein in the urine 
• High Blood Pressure 140/90 (but mine was normal! If you normally have low bp talk to your doctor)
• Sudden swelling of face, hands, legs etc
• Sudden weight gain after 20 weeks
• Blurred vision, visual disturbance
• Severe headache that doesn't respond to paracetamol
• Abdominal pain - upper right rib

 If you suspect anything please don't hesitate.The majority of babies are fine but that's because of careful monitoring and/or medical intervention. The preeclampsia.org website is excellent for information, research and advice.

My symptoms were swelling (hard to bend my knuckles, face was also puff, legs large), severe headache (like my brain was being crushed), protein in my urine (4 times the normal amount for pre-eclampsia) but normal blood pressure. Had my blood pressure been high they would have intervened. I usually have low blood pressure (98/54 average) so for me to reach 130's/80's was serious but it wasn't taken seriously because it was still within the safe parameters of pre-eclampsia. On that note, they need to change the definition of pre-eclampsia.

If I could give pregnant women one piece of advice having been through Olivia's death it would be to take your health into your own hands. Don't be passive like me, sitting there hoping you're not bothering the staff with your woes. Hoping they can see what's going on in your body. They can't. It's a bit of an Irish tradition to say 'Sure it'll be grand, don't worry', this was my downfall. I should have shouted it from the roof tops until someone listened. It's your life, it's your baby's life, don't wait.

With so much love,

Amy x

What to say when someone losses baby & What not to say!

I felt the need to blog about this having talked to many others who have lost babies who are consumed by things other have/haven't said to them. I should point out that I have not been hurt by things people I know have said because I understand the panic of not knowing what to say but for other parents this seems to be a real big issue.

I think this comes down to awareness. I don't think anyone means to be hurtful but sometimes it comes across this way. Most people don't know what to say - that's fine. Put your arms around them instead and tell them you're sorry for their loss. The combined gesture said everything to me. Sometimes someone just being near me did the trick. Just don't hide from them.

One of the most important things is to acknowledge their baby. They are parents now whether they have other children at home or not. No matter how much time has passed since you have seen that person acknowledge their loss and the existence of their baby the next time you see them in person. It's awful to say, but I remember every person in my life who I have bumped into since Olivia's death that hasn't said a word about her. No hug, no I'm sorry, no acknowledgement that my baby was on this earth. I know it's because they don't know what to say but it's very hurtful none the less. 

What not to say in passing: (this list is not exhaustive, just from my experience. I have had some of these thoughts myself but it's usually not ok for someone else to say them out loud).

*She's better off - you pretty much can't say anything worse
*She's in a better place - the only place a baby should be is with his/her parents
*At least she wasn't full term - makes no difference, after 24 weeks a baby can live outside the womb so it's no consolation. One woman said this to me and I wanted to plant her one.
*At least you have another child - no consolation for the loss of  your baby, each child is a different human being. 

I have been to a few baby bereavement group sessions in the past 6 months and what couples talk about every time is how upset they are at what someone said to them. There are leaflets available from A Little Lifetime Foundation for families and friends and also one for work colleagues, to show people the best way to respond to such a disaster. No one knows what to do in these situations.

The absolute worst thing you can do - is say nothing at all. Yet it happens too often.This is one I have been on the receiving end of quite a few times.

Have you had someone say something insensitive to you? How did you deal with it?

Memories from the past two weeks...

As a little tribute to Olivia and to help facilitate some well needed healing, I thought it would be nice to compile some of my good memories and photos taken over the past two weeks.

 31 weeks

This is my last Pregnancy Week by Week photo, taken at 31 weeks. My husband took it in Lanzarote. I had a blog post drafted but never got to push it live since I was admitted to hospital a few hours after I arrived home. In the post I mentioned I had noticed Pre-ecplamsia signs and that I was starting to feel concerned.

 Eve in the garden at the Rotunda Hospital, Dublin.

This was taken the night before I found out Olivia's heart had stopped beating. I felt a little unwell. I had cramps up my side and across my lower back, like in early labour.  I also had a temperature - which was put down to the fact that I had been given a steroid injection to help develop the baby's lungs in case she needed to be delivered. I also had a headache that paracetamol couldn't lift and yet I have such lovely memories of this evening. I sat in the beautiful gardens in the Rotunda with my husband, mam and Eve. Eve ran around the grass barefoot and we sat in the sun. This was the last time I felt Olivia move in my tummy. I'm comforted by the fact that she could hear our voices and we were all together at the time of her passing.

My last bump picture before I delivered. The bump is very tiny for 32 and a half weeks. The labour developed very quickly. This was taken moments before I called the midwife to tell her I was contracting. Within a few hours Olivia arrived. I will treasure this photo since it's the last one of her in my belly.

Labour & Birth

Giving birth was amazing, regardless of the outcome. I was in labour after induction with Eve but my labour didn't progress and it ended in a C-section. I have only gorgeous memories of Eve's birth - I spent the night epiduraled up the hilts, crocheting her a hat. I wasn't afraid and the entire experience was serene. My labour on Olivia involved pain, both labour and from a broken heart, and yet it was magical. There was  no time for an epidural, there was leg cramping between pushes and it was still amazing. I feel proud that I delivered her myself and despite knowing her fate I desperately wanted to meet and hold her. I was initially told that by labour would take days as they needed to induce me slowly because I'd had a c-section previously. I wasn't offered a repeat section because of the risk of rupture. The idea terrified me beyond belief but it felt so right when it actually happened. I don't know how, but in the midst of this devastating event, positivity has reigned. My labour, delivery and the days I could go and hold her made it as amazing as giving birth to Eve.

This is coinín. Eve has the larger version, she adores it. We were planning to buy the mini version for the arrival of our second baby before I reached 40 weeks. Instead we picked up two, the first stayed with Olivia after she was born and the second stayed with me for those few days. When the time came to say goodbye, we swapped. That way she would have something of mine and I of hers.

 

Olivia's service -We used the phrase 'Codail a Síogín, go ciúin is go sámh' for Olivia. Its Irish for Sleep Peacefully, little fairy.

 

My husband had trouble finding premature clothes at short notice. This came from Mothercare and is made for babies who weigh 3 pounds. It's absolutely tiny (the bear is the size of my thumb). There is a velcro closing, designed for babies in incubators.  I never would have imagined I would be buying baby clothes that small.

 

After I delivered Olivia the lovely midwife gave us this beautiful memory box from Féileacáin (Stillbirth & Neonatal Death Association of Ireland). It reads Always loved Never Forgotten. The box had a camera, a crocheted blanket, 2 tiny bears, a small memory box and a kit for taking hand and foot prints. It's such a gorgeous idea and it provided us with so much comfort.

 

 We have found ourselves using the phrase 'thank heavens for small mercies' a lot over the past few days - The sun shining the day of Olivia's ceremony, the bird that chirped happily on the windowsill throughout the service, the fact that our angel wasn't born living into the world only to suffer and accept the same fate anyway.

The staff at the Rotunda Hospital, Dublin, were amazing. I want to thank them for their efforts in making this traumatic time as manageable as possible. They are phenomenal, each a every one of them. I look forward to being back in their care again under happier circumstances. I would also like to send my love to Sinead and Grainne, two lovely girls I met in hospital. Both are awaiting the safe arrival of their babies. I had many a good chat and giggle with them in the first few days and they were there after the worst happened. I look forward to hearing their good news soon and want to thank them for lending me an ear.

This is the lovely piece of music we chose to have played at Olivia's ceremony. We used to play it into the bump and feel her wriggle. It's also called Transformation (by The Cinamatic Orhcestra), which is very fitting I think. It's such an uplifting piece. It was perfect. 

I also want thank you all so much for your support. You have no idea the comfort I get in reading your comments and messages here and on Facebook and Twitter. I can't believe almost 11,000 people saw that post. It feels good that so many of you know about my Olivia. For those of you who have been through this and are still living and smiling - you are an inspiration.

Take care,

Amy x

Beautiful Poetry...

A precious angel slipped away, no one heard a cry.
No time for Dad and Mummy to sing me lullabies.
My time with you was much too short. I had to leave too soon,
But love had joined us as I grew inside my Mummy's womb.
It wove it's way within our hearts, in all our hopes and dreams,
Until the very purest love became my tiny wings.
Although I could not stay with you, I knew right from the start,
That once you felt your angel's love, you'd keep me in your hearts.
I'm just a little angel but my time was not in vain.
As dark clouds that surround you give way unto the sun,
My precious parents you will see that any heart will sing,
If only for a moment it is brushed by angel wings. 

By Jean Rozon


*Thanks to Eileen Larkin who kindly sent me this poem.

Some very sad news....

On Saturday the 30th of June I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Unfortunately our little angel was stillborn. We named her Olivia. She weighed only 3 pounds 1.5 ounces at 32+3 weeks.

Needless to say my husband and I are devastated. It has been a very difficult few days and I'm sure there are darker ones ahead. I know that through it all Eve's cheeky little smile will get me through. With that in mind, I plan to keep posting on this blog. I feel the need to share the joy of my two daughters. No doubt there will be more bumps in my future, and plenty of babes and I plan to share that with those who will have me.


I feel so proud that we made her. So proud of the fight she must have had. It was an honour to have given birth to her and she has changed me, irrevocably, for the better. 

Codail, a síogín, go ciúin is go sámh

Olivia Dillon Doyle 30.06.2012

*Translation - Sleep peacefully little fairy