Baby Loss Awareness Week

Today is the beginning of Baby Loss Awareness Week and tonight many women all over the world will be lighting candles to join in the Wave of Light, myself included. Will you join in?

Some time ago my friend Marie offered to write a guest post for me about baby loss and I didn't hesitate to accept. As often happens, life got busy and in the way, so it took some time to organise. However, both of us agreed that this week was the perfect timing and I think you'll agree that Marie offers some valuable advice to both students and qualified midwives alike. Thank you Marie x

How has this past week been for you? Has it been a normal week? Perhaps you were working long shifts in your local hospital, or you were on placement in the community. Maybe you were studying, or if you’re lucky you’ve been having a well-earned break.

I don’t know what all of you were doing, but I do know that about 120 of you last week were supporting someone who had lost a child to stillbirth or neonatal loss. And I know that 120 of you will be faced with doing this next week.

And then the same the week after.

And then the one after that.

Because as you may or may not already know, on average 17 babies older than 24 weeks’ gestation die every day in the UK, before or shortly after birth. As a midwife you absolutely will be dealing with these situations one day, repeatedly in most cases.

This week wasn’t a particularly out of the ordinary week, although you may well have seen more publicity about baby loss awareness recently. The campaign, for which I’m not a spokesperson may I say, brings together four UK charities that if you’re not aware of you could do worse than to have a read about: The Miscarriage Association, The Ectopic Pregnancy Trust, Antenatal Results and Choices, and Sands, the Stillbirth and neonatal death association.

Each of them publish guidelines and leaflets for health professionals as well as for those who are affected directly and indirectly by pregnancy and neonatal loss. Each of them offer support both for those affected and for you as healthcare professionals. I’ll even make it easy for you and link to some here, here and here.

Why do I care? Why should you care? And who am I anyway?

I’m Marie. I’m a 30-something mum from Essex, who wears either a personnel or photographer job hat depending on what day you find me – I’m certainly not in healthcare. I like cats and chocolate, but I try not to mix the two. I drive a little too fast sometimes, I bite my nails when I’m tired or bored, and I wish that Gok Wan made clothes for the shorter fatter people in society. My son died two years ago, before birth. I’m one of the women you might have met, or will meet one day.

So, when it’s ‘your’ week, what kind of midwife will you be for any of those 120 women, just like me?

Will you be the midwife who told me to ‘know my place’ in my first lost pregnancy, when I sat on the bed before she’d asked me to? Will you be the midwife who, in an open reception full of other pregnant women, asked me what SANDs did and what had happened, and didn’t know what the SANDs sticker on my notes meant? Will you be the midwife who assured me I would not be placed next to a labouring woman after my son died, but then couldn’t understand why I was traumatised when they did exactly that? Will you be the midwife who drew the curtains around my bed in HDU rather than have to watch me cry? Will you be the midwife who, after the scan to confirm my son had died, told me all about her children and large family? Will you be the midwife who dismissed my tears and told me off for raising my blood pressure without offering support to me?

And if you’re not a midwife, but you’re another healthcare professional, will you be the one who ignored my requests for pain medication and told me to keep the noise down so I didn’t upset others when I was labouring with my late miscarriage? Will you be the one who chatted about Christmas at the end of my bed instead of getting me the bedpan I had asked for? Will you be the one who refused to admit me, bleeding heavily and screaming, to ER until my husband had filled out forms?

Will you be the amazing midwife sonographer who supported me through multiple pregnancy losses and successful pregnancies, made time to talk in the waiting room, minimised the delay and wait for scans, and provided tissues when it was all too much? Will you be the comforting midwife who always made time to listen and explain when I didn’t understand the printout from the DAU during my exhausting last pregnancy and just COULDN’T leave the hospital before I knew whether my son was okay? Will you be the caring midwife who understood why I was distraught that I had been assigned to be seen by a junior instead of my consultant at a key stage in my subsequent pregnancy, and arranged a better appointment for me? Will you be the home-visit midwife who held me while I cried when she visited me to check my blood pressure after my son died, and made special trips to come and see me, taking her time to sign me off until she was sure that I could get through a day? Will you be the labour midwife who stayed by my side during my entire 7 hour labour with the boy who would never cry, open his eyes, or smile, helped my husband dress him, and took his precious pictures and handprints? Will you be one of the midwives who visited my other son in NICU when he arrived early and I was in recovery, taking personal delight in sharing a happy end to my story?

This week, as a midwife or a healthcare professional looking after pregnant women you cannot choose not to deal with these situations, in the same way that I and my fellow women have no choice but to endure them. You can, however, choose how to deal with them, and how you are remembered afterwards. What will you choose?

For some stats on Baby Loss watch this.

For more information click here.

A weighty family matter

Tonight I shall continue the story of my sister and her life - my last post finished with the birth of her son and a mention of her depression. 

In the months following the birth of my nephew, my brother was diagnosed with a second brain tumour and began further treatment, Christmas came and went, I gave birth to my first child, my brother's tumour stopped responding to treatment and shortly after the birth of his son, he lost his fight for life. My sister, sister-in-law and I used to meet up weekly with our babies. We'd have lunch, chat and try to be a comfort to each other. We were all grieving in very different ways. I don't really remember much of that time, lost in that haze of bereavement but I know there were times when we laughed and times that we cried.

During this time my sister's depression was increasing and her dependency on others was also increasing. She was drowning in grief and it wasn't just grief for my brother but also for the life she once had, the life that she thought she'd had, the happy daughter that had been stolen from her, the security that she'd once known. My parents went away and my sister's dependence switched heavily to me and my sister in law and lost in our own grief, and trying to deal with being parents, we didn't handle it very well. We argued, over something ridiculous really, but that afternoon my sister attempted to take her own life. I will be forever grateful that she didn't succeed that day, and forever grateful to those that helped me and her. It took me a long time to forgive my sister for what she'd tried to do and for me to gain more understanding of depression and helplessness that she must have felt. I can remember the relief that I felt when I collected my parents from the airport, that it wasn't my responsibility anymore. I'm not very proud of how I handled things back then. Over the coming months my sister had counselling and she got better. It wasn't a sudden thing, it was a gradual process and sometimes she'd have backward steps along the way. The good days eventually outweighed the bad. Time passed, we healed but we continue to grieve and that will never change. My sister has a new partner now and life has changed a lot from that dark time. 

Whilst my sister was battling the dark cloud of depression, my eldest niece was fighting battles of her own. She'd fought her father in court and "won" but the scars left behind were far deeper. It wasn't a simple case of getting him behind bars and that was that. She was entitled to counselling from the NSPCC because of her father but she wasn't able to have it until after the court case. It took a year for it to get to court so by the time she went to counselling, she'd reached a stage of locking everything deep inside her. She was too old for a child counsellor and too much of a teenager to really open up to anyone new. When she turned 18, we discovered she had an eating disorder. She's now 21 and has just recently been admitted as an inpatient into a unit for people with eating disorders. My sister is documenting her experiences in a blog of her own http://psychomum-todaystheday.blogspot.com/ so I'm not going to do the same. Life with someone with an eating disorder puts more pressure on a family than I ever imagined.

I mentioned in my first post that my sister fell off her pedestal for me when I was 12 years old. And I am sure I have raised some memories for my sister that have been difficult, she may well be wondering what I think of her now. She has faced a parent's worst nightmare and she has always been there for her children even when they have pushed her to the absolute limit. I have only touched on some of the things that she has faced. She doesn't consider herself a strong person but she is one of the strongest people I know. When I was 12, the sister I held on my pedestal was not really my sister but just who I imagined her to be. My sister is not perfect, who is? She still on occasion battles depression but she's winning the fight. I am proud to call her my sister. I am proud of how she has handled things, especially the last few years. Life has dealt her a difficult hand but she remains big hearted, generous, kind, and steadfastly loyal to her family and friends. She is an amazing person and I am honoured to be a part of her life. So sis, chin up and lets take on the next battle together, hand in hand. 

Part 2

It's possible I may have concerned my sister with which direction this series about her and her family might take but she need not worry, all will become clear. However in order to alleviate her worry, I have decided to continue the tale this evening. 

Yesterday I told you how we found out that my niece had been abused by her father and our lives changed forever. Naturally the police and social services were involved, however it took over a year to get her father behind bars. During that year, we rallied together as a family but it was almost too big for us to handle. During that time we first discovered that my brother was ill, and I was planning my wedding. My sister made the arrangements to sell the house that they had once shared as there was no way she could afford it on her own and started the wheels in motion for divorce.Now I get a little hazy as to the order in which things happened but during that year my sister sold the house she had once shared and her ex-husband halted the sale at the last moment, despite being in prison at the time. The result instead was that the house was repossessed but even that was not the process it should have been. As you might imagine with all this going on at the same time as my brother being desperately ill, my niece struggling with everything that had happened to her and the court case at which she testified, life for my sister was incredibly stressful and quite frankly awful. I was really quite worried about her at this time - she had some friends that I just wasn't sure about and she was going out a lot, drinking a lot. Frankly though it was nothing to do with me, there was nothing specific to worry about and goodness knows she needed the break. Everything just felt a little bit crazy. And then she discovered she was pregnant and it was as if the baby was sent to bring her life back on track. It might seem crazy to some but I truly believe that this baby came for a reason, despite all the odds. He came to give her hope again and to remind her of the future still there waiting. That it wasn't all hopeless as it all must have seemed. 

Life that had been so crazy seemed to settle back down. She still had the repossession to deal with and as I said that didn't happen as it should have done. Everything took a long time to happen, longer than it should have done. There were no guarantees that she would be housed, that she could be initially placed in a bed and breakfast with her three children, whilst pregnant. Thankfully when the day finally came, she was housed and by some miracle she was housed directly opposite my house. That evening her waters broke and the next day her second son was born. I was her birth partner and that day is very precious in my memory. I was already pregnant with my first daughter at this time, and my sister in law was also pregnant and I was looking forward to us all having babies so close in age to each other. 

At this time it felt to me like life was on the up, or at the very least was settling to a new kind of normal. My sister was beginning a new life which seemed more hopeful than it had just a week earlier, my brother was doing well, I was excited about my new baby...life was full of hope. The truth was very different - my sister was battling severe depression and my brother was shortly to be diagnosed with a second tumour. 

I am brave

Today I had a conversation with a fellow blogger StupidGirl about how brave it is to follow your dreams, prompted by her latest blog post. Many people I know think I am brave to enter the world of Midwifery but I don't think I am brave as I am just following my dreams of what I have always wanted to do.

However it took quite a lot of courage to tell people that I wanted to be a midwife. I worried a lot about what others would think and expected a negative reaction. As a result when I was younger and still at school, I didn't actually tell anyone it was what I wanted to do and I certainly didn't have the courage to actually apply. Then as an adult, it still took a bit of courage and a long time thinking about it before I would even voice the thought aloud. I can remember not long after my second daughter was born, talking to my Mum and voicing the thought aloud for the first time. I was worried that people would think it was post-birth euphoria speaking rather than anything else so if I dared to mention it I'd automatically declare I was waiting at least a year before acting on my hopes.

Every time I spoke to someone else about hoping to be a midwife, I'd wait for that negative reaction and it never did come. I got lots of positive responses in fact, and still do. Many friends and family have said to me that I will make a fantastic midwife. It would take more courage for me to say "I am going to be a fantastic midwife" than for me to take blood, or help to deliver a baby.

What was a brave step, was actually thinking to myself 'it's my life and I'm going to make the most of it, I'm going to follow my dreams'. And that is a brave step for anyone, whatever they are looking to do. For most of us, following our dreams, means some kind of sacrifice somewhere else in our lives. For me I am sacrificing my time with my daughters. I once said, I wouldn't work where I had to struggle to organise childcare in the school holidays or if my children were ill. So instead I have chosen a profession with possibly the most antisocial hours you can get. Why? What changed? Is it that my children are no longer my priority? Well it helps that they are no longer babies and require less of me now; but I have the belief that if I have to go to work and leave my girls, then I don't want to be resentful that I am having to work somewhere I hate, rather than be with them. I want to be working somewhere I enjoy the work, that gives me purpose. For me, that is Midwifery. I will be giving my daughters less time yes, but a much more fulfilled Mum. I believe in this way I will actually give them more, than I would by staying at home with them.

This is absolutely not a dig at any stay at home Mum's before anyone thinks it is. I was a stay at home Mum for 4 years and it's hard work. If my husband hadn't lost his job, I wouldn't have applied to Midwifery until both the girls were at school. My eldest is at school now and it won't be long until the youngest starts Nursery but it's meant a lot to me that my husband has been the stay at home parent for them. He has been a constant for them, in a time when a lot has changed in their lives. I know I would have wobbled far more about applying without his presence at home. (and that's not a judgement on working mother's either)

If you've dreamt about working in a particular area, then just think about it a little more. We only get one life and our working lives are long - far too long to spend doing something you hate. Just take a look at what you'd need to do to follow your dreams? Do you need to do a course? Can you study in the evenings? Just see if it's possible...even if you do nothing about it for now. Be brave and take a step....dip your toe....dare to dream...