We’ve almost concluded January 2017. Slow month for many, too cold and too miserable.  Too far away from Christmas to speak of all our wonderful festivities,  but nowhere near the nice weather to speak of soon to come plans.

This week for me has been strange.  Those of you you follow me on Instagram will know I hit the floor,(my Instagram links are here on this blog somewhere) the bottom, where hopefully the only place for me to go is up.

It is something I hate to admit, to speak of.  I don’t even really know why.  Our youngest is fairly high maintenance, not in the way people would expect with labels,  diagnosis etc, not like that far from it.

Since having her due to the Hg, I’ve suffered somewhat with mental health, bond with her has been difficult.  I can’t put my finger in it because I love her so, so much.  She’s incredibly clingy,  her allergies, she seems to need so much reassurance and wants boob hourly still, only wants me, which you know I do love but when I’ve been ill myself it is frustrating, and because being ill has tipped me over the edge recently,  with flashbacks and panic attacks, well I ended up getting myself into such a state.

Terrified that she doesn’t love me,she’ll remember my sad moments.

Terrified my moaning will cause her to die (of course only a few will understand that sentence and feel normal in mentioning it).

This week although I have had to hit the bottom to do it, I’ve turned a corner. A corner where I can see light. Bright happy light.  I’ve so much going on just now, which for me I find overwhelming,of course M’s birthday in four weeks, (constant countdowns just now).

I ended up sobbing, sobbing until I couldn’t breath, until I eventually vomited.

That was it.

The point where I know I need to be happier than I felt. Don’t get me wrong, my family, my husband make me so happy, I could never put into words how much they do; they complete me. But there was this switch that was turned off. All my islands turned off.  (Inside Out fans will too know what I am talking about).

So here I am days, a month into the New Year,  I find myself clawing my way out.

It is so hard to speak about, there are things I cannot explain not in decent words.  It is something I need to figure out.  This fifth year of grief is pinching somewhat, but I’ll save that for Melody and Me.

It will get better. I know it will.

I did squeeze in a Mummy adventure with my lovely Mummy friend, due to illnesses for both us, it is something I have very much missed. (Stupid brain worries I reply on her too much, but she really is worth her weight in gold).

Hair appointment with my girls, one had her first ever hair cut, she sat as good as gold.  

First locks.  

Cuddles with this one. Falling peacefully into a slumber after a busy day.  

She is so much like her older sister, which over the course of the years haven’t helped.  

But looking at her here she looks so tiny, a new born almost, yet she’s “huge”. 

Fluffy head of beauty. 

Day out  minus the children with my closest friend.  New to you sale (Mum2Mum Market),picked up some great bargains.  Moving on to a garden centre for cake and a drink. 

Made a nice change to sit and talk and not run around or pulling the baby off the table 50 million times.  

Even picked up some bargains for Christmas (I know but hey better than getting caught up in the crowds later on).  Also a Birthday present for Melody (which I’ll share with you later).  

Plans for today was to walk, and to maybe visit her.  We don’t visit often these days it is too painful to say goodbye every time.  

But instead, as well all know I’ve had coughs, virus just everything going well this afternoon Hubby took the littlest Girls to the shops, bigger ones went to their dad’s and I’ve been home being sick and temperature crazy again… I mean what the fuck now? Constant feeling rough is seriously getting on my nerves.  So, I’ve been home re-watching these and napping.  

This is so turning into the sick diaries.  

Different I guess.  

See you next week! 

The Wet Wipe Diaries. 

For those of you who followed me during my pregnancy 19 months ago will know that HG isn’t “just morning sickness”.

I hate HG,I hate it with a passion. A thief,an attacker. No matter what security, what alarms you have to prepare. Nothing,absolutely nothing prepares you for the effects,it has on you and your family.

Attacking your body,your emotions. Stealing a pregnancy, a bond,happiness.

It eats you alive.

This may sound incredibly dramatic, but if I am honest,there really are no decent words to fully describe HG,and to give the listener an understanding.

I’ve had it five times. Five pregnancies (my miscarried babies,didn’t get cosy enough for HG to kick in). Each different in severity,different in length too. With my first babies not being as hard as my most recent.

I’d never heard of it until I walked in to the doctor’s surgery 11 years ago. I’d been sick in several public places, including outside the Post Office, and had sprayed our newly painted bathroom wall. It was manageable. Finally leaving about 24 weeks. I’d still be sick on and off,but I was OK.

Next baby,8 years ago, again it only lasted a short time,18 weeks this time.

When I remarried, we made the decision to have children together. I was expecting HG. After two miscarriages, we conceived our baby. Ropey start but she got cosy,and so did the HG,after crashing my car, it kicked in. Could no longer do my agency job. The isolation begun.

The boredom in friends,the expectations to still be normal,were high. The assumptions of hiding the vomiting were even higher. Because that was easy,right?!

The bond in the pregnancy, wasn’t strong it was difficult, antenatal depression hit. The pregnancy began to go wrong.

26+6weeks she was born due to HELLP syndrome a complication/variant of pre-eclampsia.

However at five weeks old she passed away. Find Melody’s journey here.

We made the decision to have another baby,it was terrifying, not only due to her being a baby after a death,but the HG to contend with too. I desperately wanted to take a baby home to my husband.

Once again I spent my time alone,terrified of everything going wrong again and sick. Listening to people telling me I was damaging my older children. Guilt,because I couldn’t just have a normal pregnancy, after all we’d been through HG still tormented us. Because HG didn’t mean a baby at the end of it. I could manage an outing a week with a friend,a weekly trip to the hospital, were my limits. It was just that,limiting.

Terror of staying in the hospital overnight,flashbacks.

The pregnancy was stressful, I refused ante emetics, I know I should have accepted,but the professionals I spoke to were always unsure whether they were safe.

I didn’t want to bury another baby.

38 weeks she was born screaming via c-section.

It was over,never to endure the sick again. Heartburn remained for months after wards,certain foods caused me pain or upset stomach, like white breads.

But the stress was over. I could move on from the HG,people wanted to know again,I wasn’t so lonely.

Then it happened.

Two little lines appeared on that white plastic stick. A stick that looks so cheap, changed me in an instant.

My most recent (and final) pregnancy.

HG didn’t appear for a good few weeks,I’d obviously tested very early. 6 or 7 weeks, it began to creep in. The sickness bands begun to fail. The need for meds, became more.

Trying Avonomine first. I agreed to try the medication this time,something felt different, there was an intensity about the way I felt.

The avonomine made me ill, I couldn’t move, I felt suffocated.

Leading me to my first trip to the antenatal ward for six litres of fluid and meds. They suspected either molar or twin because I was so poorly.

It wasn’t. Just one.

Her story, aside from the death of our daughter, this was the most challenging thing I’d done.

It broke me more.

I could barely lift my head from the pillow,standing was hard. It sapped the life out of me,I couldn’t even cry about it,crying made me vomit.

The thief,it stole from me. It stole friendship,9 months with my children,social things.

I had a couple assist with school runs,but only one person bothered to see me week in week out.

It attacked my confidence, my heart, making me more sensitive.

Once again I couldn’t bond with my baby,once again I was terrified she’d die too.

Scans(12 of them) were hard because I couldn’t sit still,or bare the car journey. I gave up driving for 7 months.

It.broke.me.

Two to three sickness medications a day,clexane, aspirin, reflux medication,vitamin supplements, shakes juices and regular midwife/hospital visits kept me…alive.

I’m not exaggerating,although I believe anyone who suggests morning sickness or ginger to a HG sufferer, probably think they all exaggerate.

37 weeks,due to our history and the HG,37 was agreed the best option to end the pain and actually the HG suffering.

She was too born screaming,loud. Perfection.

I was sterilized at point of section. I couldn’t do it again.

It didn’t disappear on birth this time, it stayed for days,the nausea remained. I could barely eat.

Baby was an image of our lost girl. I could barely look at her.

She screamed. I spent moments in the bathroom sobbing every time she cried. I felt weak,scared.

There was no let up on her crying, a sling with her saved my sanity. But she wouldn’t go with anyone else.

It was suggested to change my diet go dairy free for her. The screaming,my crying calmed.

It is thought it may have all stemmed from the HG.

19 months since her birth,  I’m still getting the odd flashbacks. Form of PTSD. Last year I suffered gastroenteritis, which made me realise how terrified of vomit I now am.

A simple virus has left me on edge, panicky because even resting brings flashbacks of being unable to move, I hate the way it has left me. 

A bit personal, but sex can scare me,although I’ve had my tubes tied and cut,I’m more than terrified of the prospect of a surprise pregnancy. It would be a disaster.

I still can’t eat certain foods, our daughter can’t either. 

I hate HG so much,it ruined my relationship with our daughter. We’re getting there, I love her to bits but it’s been bloody hard.

Hyperemesis is cruel,cruel disease. Should never be spoken of lightly. A lot more research is needed.

More HG friendly HCPs are needed.

Most importantly support is required.

Never assume it is just morning sickness or that the woman should hide it.

That woman is doing her best,to be a mother and protect her unborn child under the most impossible circumstances.

Rather than judge offer to help.

For more information or support here.

Thank you if you’ve gotten this far.

On Saturday 25th February, Chard Guildhall will become a venue to a Barn Dance.  Family friendly lots of dancing, ploughman’s supper, there may even be a cake stall.. Now who wouldn’t want cake?

Chard Baby Loss Group Little Daffodils  teamed up with a couple other mums to put together a night of entertainment to raise money and awareness for Baby Bereavement Charity Towards Tomorrow Together, who help fund Little Daffodils.

As a unit they offer support to families who have not only lost babies during AND after pregnancy, but support families who receive poor prognosis in pregnancy too.

Give useful information and resources to families who have to say goodbye to their much loved, much wanted babies.

The charity provides Butterfly Boxes in hospitals to help let families make memories.

When our baby died at just over a month old we were met with lots of “Your baby is too old”  or “Your baby didn’t die the right way.”  to get the support we deserved.

I wanted to make that change locally where no family would be left out.  It took a few years with one thing or another to set up, but since May 2016 there has been this support service in Chard, where we’re currently meeting at Eleos Cafe once a month.

The Barn Dance isn’t far away, we will be holding a raffle with some great prizes.

Barn Dance Tickets can be purchased at Eleos Cafe or via justgiving page.

As well as the Barn Dance and raffle, we also have a memorial bunting, which will be used to remember babies taken too soon, and to raise awareness about just how many we lose, and will be used at future awareness days I am putting together for local professionals.

​We’re getting better, well at least at leaving the house.  

Had our first Majorette Committee meeting, which was a great start to our year. Events,  competitions all coming our way.  Watch this space.  

Thursday,  as well as being hubby’s birthday it unfortunately brought a complete relapse of this crazy-long virus,  my whole body hurt, fever, the cough (of course),  just feeling whacked out,so much so I’d had to ask a friend to collect two of my children from school,  that was until my husband finished work early instead.  For the next 24 hours I felt a complete mess,crying feverish mess,   even thought my daughter’s cuddly toy was laughing at me in the middle of the night..of course that wasn’t so was it? 

Creepy little shit.. 

Instead of spoiling the Mr on his birthday, he was once again taking care of me.  As I have said before, I’m very lucky.  

I never want to feel that rough again..  

Saturday arrived with plans, I felt a lot more human, which I was glad for as I was able to go to Bingo with my Mum In Law and relative, we won absolutely nothing, but it was so nice to go out, relations with my own Mum is somewhat difficult,  (I’m not replacing or what ever people may take this as), but it was just nice to do something like that with her.  We’re going again, and very excited too. 

Braved a walk to the shops today, not felt like walking in what feels like forever,  it wasn’t far but did feel a little off (this virus really has knocked the shot out of me), but it was so nice to go out walking, both girls walked most of the way there and back.  

This included a number of tantrums too, mainly because she wasn’t allowed to carry the shopping bag home, as well as a brief visit to the park, and their fascination of the post box, although they do match it..  

I think it did us the world of good.  Love how close these guys are.  

My biggies went to their dad’s a day early this week, I’ll get them back a day early. 

As always I miss them.  But know they’re having a great time no doubt.  

Finally.. 

Okay, so they’re not out in bloom,  but they’re in our house a sign of our girl, a countdown to the months, the time that we know she existed with us, albeit the short weeks.  The Social Media Time Hops where she is mentioned in happier memories, like wiggly bump stories of her siblings getting squeamish at the sight of my moving tummy.  

Anyway.  

That’s Part Three of January.  

February will soon be here.  The knots have begun a bit earlier this year.  
The Wet Wipe Diaries. 

It isn’t something I speak of a lot, particularly since the death of our 5 week old, my heart hasn’t been lost for the early miscarriages I’ve had before or after her.  I’m not ashamed, I just don’t go in to great detail.  I mention them occasionally along side when I write about Melody, mainly because people empathise more with my early losses than with her.  

Seven years ago today I encountered my second miscarriage, my first one with my now husband.  We’d only been together 6 months.  I was concerned about telling him. But I didn’t need to be.  I’d told my close friends at the time, the sickness had already begun to creep in, nothing major but there was certainly constant nausea. 

Although the shock was there we soon got used to the idea, we’d manage.  It’ll be OK.  

But of course it would be indeed very short lived.  When I was getting ready for work, a night shift at the hospital as it happens, when I had awful stomach cramps.  Nothing I’d ever really felt before, I could barely stand.  We decided to call an ambulance, not something I would do lightly, but I couldn’t move.  

I was put into the ambulance my friend took the children to their grandparents’ house.  John managed to get there before the ambulance left.  We weren’t living together at the time.  

 I wanted to share the memories I have of what would have been our first pregnancy together.  Because although the ending isn’t all what it’s cracked up to be,  it does make me smile and it’s worth a memory. Because with these things it’s all we have.  

I was given gas and air in the ambulance, something I’d never had before, not even when I laboured with my eldest daughter, although I do wish I had.  

It was the most surreal experience,  I don’t fully remember the journey but do remember A&E.  

At the time I was a member of staff,  not in A&E but in the trust.  

As we sat in the cubicle,  I was higher than a kite on the beautiful gas and air, when it suddenly dawned on me,  *in the time we had been waiting in this cubicle ‘they’  had built a wall behind me, whilst I was there waiting to be treated, what fucking liberties, just because I was an employee of the trust it didn’t mean they could do fucking construction work whilst I was waiting.  I couldn’t have possibly been pushed through the wall into this cubicle it HAD to have been built whilst I was there… 

Of course I didn’t believe my partner (now husband)  that I had arrived by normal means, there was no new wall or building work being done.  I had indeed been reversed into the space, like everyone else. 

The Gas and Air was not long after confiscated.  

Only then did I wish it hadn’t when admitted onto Gynae ward,  was a junior (male)  doctor I’d been working with for three months –  to do my internal..  

If only I’d been knocked out for that part! 

It’s a daft story but it is a memory, a first piece of mine and hubby’s parenting journey together , albeit not successful.  

I like sharing it, because it turned a shit experience for me into something a little lighter.  Or should I say, lighter than air. 

All memories no matter the size or how others see them are yours and such an important part of your story. 

Never be afraid to share the silly ones, because they’re not just silly to you.  
 
The Wet Wipe Diaries 

 

In May 2016 Chard Baby Loss Group, Little Daffodils (Previously Melody’s Voices) was born, as part of a community project by At St Mary’s and local midwife Becky Scott, the  group, which I had been putting together for a while, having supported other parents online I was given the opportunity for the group to launch into something that Chard was missing. Something I wished had been available to me, to us when our daughter died, but of course there was nothing in our town. For me this is just a tiny step of the many things I’d like to change. As they say “One day at a time”.

Little Daffodils is currently meeting at Eleos Cafe due to darker evenings, but will be setting up a play session for parents and children, At St Mary’s but due to illness I’ve had to postpone the original date for now..

 

At the launch of the group the local Mayor came to show his support, where he offered as part of his budget to let us hold an event at The Guildhall in Chard…

 

The Barn Dance was then born.

We’d been hoping to have held the event back in October for Pregnancy and Infant Loss awareness month, but unfortunately it wasn’t to happen, but instead we were able to hold a coffee morning and a table top sale to help raise funds to continue with our event, which is now being held the weekend of our daughter’s 5th birthday. 

I won’t lie it has all been a real slow burner.

But with so few of us, we’re doing amazingly.

(We’ve not needed too many of these either!)

Julz (Me-Hi!) and Tracy Coath of Little Daffodils teamed up with two Chard mums Gemma Green and Samantha Field, as well as the husbands who have helped, we are really turning this event around.

 

(The Crazy Trio)

 

What we’d like is to sell as many Barn Dance Tickets as we can (well, as many as we can fit in the hall).

Raise the awareness that all the beautiful babies, born too soon, or children too sick to stay matter, their parents deserve the support which Towards Tomorrow Together (who support Little Daffodils) offer.

The Tickets are available at Eleos cafe, or via the event page here.

We’re incredibly grateful to Eleos for their continued support, especially when at times it felt like there was very little. And of course At St Mary’s projects. 

In roughly 10 days we will have raffle tickets for sale too, I’ll share with you in part two just a few of the amazing prizes we have to offer. With so little time, we have been incredibly lucky to have had the donations we have.

I have done fundraising for infant loss in the past, I know from experience and from speaking to others who have done similar how difficult it can be to get the word across for this type of Charity.

But today, right now it feels like there is a voice and it is being heard.

So, if you have gotten this far, thank you.

This is our Part One. Our introduction. Today is 5 weeks until the big night. It would be great to see you there, to support such a worthy cause, who helps so many families even those who fall silent.

 

Hope to see you there..

To Be Continued…

The Wet Wipe Diaries 

Still suffering from the never  ending bloody cough, which is leaving me feeling so shit, not much call for outings and nice things.

I did begin Antibiotics, which I thought were working, but it seems it was all a big tease. I’ll just wait it out. It is after all only a cough..

There were threats of snow this week. But once again that never came to anything. Every year they say it and every year nothing comes.

This week saw the beginning of my downward spiral for the lead up to our daughter’s birthday. I have been very fortunate to have spoken to other mums who have had babies who took a breath but then passed away, who have really helped me this week. It is so hard to explain the train of thoughts that go hand in hand with our situations, but knowing that what I say or feel I’m certainly not alone in these thoughts. These wobbles  I know are normal for us. Although I wish we knew each other in different ways, but I am grateful to have them in my life.

This year is proving particularly difficult, which I shared in a post here. So searching for any tiny bit of joy at the moment is a bonus. I hate the run up. Although I know there is a sense of peace once the first date arrives, it is still very shit.

I am finding it very hard to fight the “shut myself away from life” feeling right now.

(made by my husband).

Saturday saw the birthday of my one boy. Turning 9, we tried to give him a fantastic day.  Amazon failed to deliver his birthday presents on time, which of course has pissed me off, and at time of writing they’ve still yet to arrive.

Having booked a trip to Air Hop in Bristol of the birthday boy and his sister, my husband took them there, where they had an amazing time, and keen to go again, whilst I took the younger girls over to Cribbs Causeway with my Mother In Law, it really was lovely.

We didn’t shop loads, but we did buy Melody’s birthday present, which all will be revealed later. Re-grouped with the birthday boy and co, we spent a little while longer in Cribbs, whilst he spent his Waterstones Voucher and had lunch at his choice of McDonald’s. Then gave him a small amount to spend in Smyths to make up for his delayed presents, which actually he ended up coming away with a TrackMaster Set by Thomas for £10!

I cannot believe my little boy is 9!

He seemed to enjoy every moment of his day, even got a chance to sit in a brand new show room car, a Tesla which made his day, and is very keen on me and his step-dad buying one…once it becomes a banger and it has done nearly all its miles, then maybe we’ll be able to afford one..

Today I have spent most of my day trying to get raffle prizes for a Barn Dance we’re holding in February. Contacting nearly 30 companies, I’m hoping we’ll have something to put in a raffle. It is all slowly driving me potty if I’m honest. Just under six weeks to go..

The youngest not only turning 19 months today, but clearly repeating “Love You” to us. Really has made my day.

 

Here’s to a better part three.

I must not stop writing.

The Wet Wipe Diaries 

Merriott Majorettes celebrate 20 years.

Juliet Mckelvey and Sarah Foley set up the troupe 20 years ago when Juliet’s daughters Samantha and Hannah showed an interest in wanting to be Majorettes.

With both girls continuing until they were of an age where they could no longer compete, and Samantha took on the role of training the Tiny Tots Section, while Sarah and Juliet continued to train the Junior and Senior Sections, training once a week in Merriott Village Hall and Tithe Barn.

The Majorettes also have a committee of helpers who, give up a lot of time, to ensure the smooth running of the troupe and events.

The troupe currently made up of girls and boys, with the youngest being 3 right up to 19 years, competing through the South West, they saw a successful competition season in 2016 bringing home 42 trophies. In addition to competing, they display at various fetes and fundraisers, as well as performing at the Somerset Carnivals.

To celebrate 20 years Merriott Majorettes hosted a Charity Competition, inviting other troupes from across the South West to compete, which raised £1000, giving £500 for each of the two chosen charities – Bristol Children’s Hospital and The Brain Tumour Charity, chosen by Samantha who recently lost her step sister to a Brain Tumour, whilst Bristol Children’s Hospital was chosen because of the treatment Samantha’s step-niece received whilst undergoing major heart surgery.

 

Juliet and Sarah are hoping that the troupe will try and host another Charity Event every year, with 2017 being in aid of Cancer Charity; St Margaret’s Hospice and Baby Loss Charity; Towards Tomorrow Together, both Charities close to the troupe’s hearts.

If anyone would like to show their support for these events, or see what’s next for us, please find us on our Facebook Group

‘Merriott Majorettes’.

When asking Sarah and Juliet on thoughts for the next 20 years?

“We’ll see…”

Merriott Majorettes are looking forward to a successful 2017.