Don’t Tell Us How To Grieve

Yesterday was sad, there’s no other word for it, to hear of another Mom losing her baby never gets any easier, celebrity or not we are all human and I’m completely devastated for Chrissy Teigen. Today feels different though, the ignorance and trolling on Chrissy’s post has resulted in people across the baby loss community standing up and speaking out and I feel like I wouldn’t be a good Mommy to Alex if I didn’t speak up too. Comments like the ones below are EXACTLY the reason why we need to raise awareness around baby loss and they are exactly the reason why I continue to share pictures and speak about Alex. I’ll admit, I haven’t done it as much lately but seeing those comments today felt like a call to action and I can’t let it go without saying something, so for October’s Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month and next week’s Baby Loss Awareness Week I will be sharing a lot more.

One in four women will sadly lose their baby during pregnancy or birth and yet for something so incredibly common, it is still treated like something to be ashamed of, avoided and banished to silence. I know some people may think I overshare, or that its weird to keep talking about Alex or maybe that I should just ‘get over it’ and move on. Maybe, like the comments above, they also think my photographs of Alex are morbid and strange. They might even think that I deserved it, after all, I thought that too. I thought because I had two children already that god/the universe/karma whatever it may be, decided that I wasn’t a good enough Mom and that I didn’t deserve another baby. I thought because I’d spent time worrying about how I would cope with three children that my body had listened and decided to let one go because I didn’t deserve him. I wracked my brain thinking of all the times I had hurt and upset people or not been my best self and wondered which one it was that led to me not deserving to take my baby home. Trust me, no one felt less deserving of Alex than me and I tortured myself for a long time because of it and I’m sure that Chrissy is also having similar thoughts- grieving Mom’s don’t need other people adding to that guilt and pain. I can’t imagine how Chrissy must feel reading some of the awful comments on her incredibly brave post. The point is, losing a baby is sadly very common and how every parent deals with it will be as unique as their finger prints but no matter how they chose to share their experience be it in private, or in public, they should be able to do so without any judgement or fear of the repercussions.

Rob and I debated at length how, and if, we should share Alex’s birth on social media, the idea of it felt uncomfortable, social media is a highlight reel of everyone’s best bits and this was so incredibly sad, but in the end we decided that Alex deserved it. We had shared the birth of William and Thomas on social media and we didn’t want Alex to be the dirty secret who was never spoken about again because his story had a sad ending. He deserved to be announced and shared with our friends and relatives in the same way his brothers were and sharing it also stopped the incoming painful tide of ‘is the baby here yet?’ calls and messages. 

As for pictures, yes we took them, we took hundreds! We even had a photographer come in and take some too! I’ll admit though, if one of my relatives died tomorrow (god forbid they don’t!) I wouldn’t dream of taking pictures of their dead body, so why is it different for Alex? The answer is so simple-

They’re all we have.

Read those words again, let them really sink in for a moment. We have absolutely nothing left to remember our little boy other than the photographs we took. They’re all we have. I grew a baby for nine months, we prepared for him to be part of our family, we made a space for him in our lives and then he died and we were left with absolutely nothing. So let bereaved parents have their pictures, let us share our babies proudly with you like we would’ve if they had lived, let us share our babies for the thousands of women out there who feel like they can’t and suffer for it, silenced by stigma and the fear of cruel comments. Let us share them to educate those who don’t know any better and if it makes you uncomfortable, be kind. The uncomfortableness you feel from seeing a photograph whilst scrolling through Facebook will be fleeting, the uncomfortableness of going to sleep every evening knowing that one of your children isn’t safely tucked up in their bed lasts a lifetime for us.

October is Alex’s due month, this time four years ago I had just started my maternity leave and the turn of the leaves always marks the beginning of a rough couple of months for me. I usually distance myself from social media during this time to protect my heart and weather the storm but this year I am going to endeavour to speak out a bit more because there is clearly a long way to go with raising awareness and destigmatising baby loss. By doing this my hope is that when someone close to you loses a baby you will remember my posts and maybe your response will be a little more considered & thoughtful. I hope that you don’t shy away from painful photos and the uncomfortable presence of parents grief, I hope you can sit in it with them and ask them about their precious baby, who existed, even if it was just for a short while. Remember that everyone is different, grief isn’t something that can easily be rationalised, everyone will deal with it in their own way and that’s perfectly ok. And I hope above all things that you are kind, grieving Moms and Dads are battered and bruised enough already without having to face cruel and ignorant comments.

Much love,

Rachel & Alex xxx

It’s The First Of December

Just in case you haven’t noticed, today is the first of December.

It used to be such a great day, it’s the start of advent, chocolate calendars, the return of the elf, and a more socially acceptable time to eat chocolate for breakfast.

The 1^st December for us now? Well, this time three years ago we laid our precious little boy to rest on a crisp cold and blue skied day much like today. If I thought the initial shock of losing him was bad, then placing him into the ground and saying goodbye for the final time was infinitely worse. Today always hits like a tonne of bricks, it’s a swipe out of the blue after a difficult few weeks of keeping my head above water since Alex’s birthday. I meticulously prepare myself for his birthday which enables me to cope but there’s something about the 1^st December which means I always fail to prepare adequately, maybe it’s the business of this time of year, the Christmas shopping, syncing diaries for festive drinks and activities with the family, there just isn’t enough time to prepare for the tidal wave of painful memories heading my way.

Step in Advent for Alex…. the life ring in the choppy and freezing seas of grief at Christmas time. The truth is, and I hope William and Thomas will never notice this, but since losing Alex I just don’t enjoy Christmas as I once did. It has become a time to survive rather than one to enjoy and in a complete contradiction to how the world looks at this time of year, the sparkle of the festive season disappeared with my son. We did and Advent for Alex back in 2017, I dragged Rob round in the snow delivering Christmas cards to elderly people we didn’t even know, we handed out candy canes to complete strangers and whilst we all felt a bit awkward doing those things they really did help. For reasons I can’t remember, we didn’t repeat it last year and I hated it, it felt like Alex was excluded from Christmas and in rolled another wave of longing and guilt. So this year I think I have come to terms with the fact that the festive version of me needs a little help and a focus to carry me through December.

So what is Advent for Alex, and how does it help? Advent for Alex is a way of including Alex in Christmas and ensuring that he is acknowledged as part of the festivities. Missing a child at Christmas is one of the cruellest things I have felt, Christmas lights only serve to highlight the missing one, the empty stocking, the name missing on Christmas cards and the empty chair at the table. Creating a way to include Alex enables us to overlook the things which aren’t there and find peace in the things which are. So every day during December we have planned something to remember Alex or take time for ourselves and give our grief some space. I’ve planned things as simple as lighting a candle for him, decorating his grave, and random acts of kindness. Some of these things we would do anyway but writing them down on our Advent Tree of Stars and being more mindful of what we are doing when we do them gives us a solid focus on Alex and because of this, for the first time, today feels different, it feels like to start of something instead of the end of something. I feel excited, hopeful and although the tears are near to the surface I feel like a different person compared to the inconsolable version of me drowning in grief and sadness on the 1^st December for the last three years.

For any of you who are missing someone this Christmas, a child, family member or friend, I hope that you too can find a way to include them in the festivities and find some peace during what can be a really difficult time of year. If you’d like to follow our #AdventForAlex and see what we get up to in Alex’s name everyday then please follow us on Instagram @after_alex_blog and Facebook @AfterAlexBlog, if you’d like to do something to include Alex too then please feel free to tag us on social media and use the hashtag #AdventForAlex, we would love to see Alex playing a part in other peoples Christmas celebrations! And more importantly, if you know someone who is missing a baby or a family member this time of year then please don’t be afraid to mention them, saying their names wont remind us that they are missing – we are already painfully aware of that. What it will do however, is remind us that they are remembered and that you care, and that will probably be the most precious and appreciated gift you give this Christmas.

Wishing you all a gentle December.

Happy Fathers Day

It’s Father’s Day, another one of those annual events on the post baby loss calendar to endure and survive. There are still fry ups, handmade cards with scribbled kisses and a whole day dedicated to Dad’s but in our house one of the tiny people who gave Rob his father status is missing and that changes everything. One of the things I’m coming to realise about Fathers Day, and the reason for my blog today, is that there is a startling difference between today and the days which are dedicated to me as a Mommy. I have had two Mother’s Days without Alex and I am so thankful to have been surrounded by love, thoughtful messages and a whole crowd of people trying their best to make the day pass as gently as possible. And yet sadly, the same can’t be said for Rob today.

I would really like to say that this is a one-off occurrence but the lack of attention started on the day we first heard those devastating words in hospital. It started precisely when I was whisked off to surgery and he was left in a room totally alone, in shock and cradling our lifeless baby. Everyone’s focus, which should have been concentrated on welcoming our new born baby shifted to me and the things that they could do to support me. It felt so wrong to me even through the black fog of grief, so much so, that I didn’t just cry for our baby, I cried for Rob too. I cried because no one was there for him and it felt so unfair. He was and is my rock and I am only here writing this blog today because he carried me through our loss until I was strong enough to cope on my own again. He did everything I couldn’t. He held me tight whilst I sobbed into the early hours, he took care of our boys when I couldn’t bear to show them my tears yet again, he fielded the concerned texts and calls, he answered the dreaded questions when our neighbours asked where our baby was. He did it all, and I hate to say it but he mostly did it alone. I heard him being asked countless times how I was doing but I don’t recall being asked the same amount in return.

He did what was expected, he was the stereotypical ‘strong’ man, conditioned not to show any emotion and just get on with things. But why should it be that way? As a Mother I was encouraged to show all the facets of my grief openly, without judgement and I am certain that it helped me to deal with it. It seems odd to think that men aren’t encouraged to do the same. Men need support too, maybe not in the same forms as Mothers but they need it all the same. I can confidently say that I could not have done some of the things that Rob did following Alex’s loss. Carrying our little boys coffin in to church is one that always comes to mind. His strength confounds me, I know I wasn’t much of a support to him in those early days and I will always wonder how he managed to carry on and do those things without the network that I seemed to have around me.

So why shouldn’t he get a simple call or text on Father’s Day to check how he’s doing? Because he’s strong? Because he doesn’t need the support? Because its not the manly thing to do? Or maybe because he’s over it now? But he has also lost a child and whilst he may not have suffered the same physical effects from pregnancy and birth that I did, his heart also broke that day and continues to ache every day ever since with the weight of our loss. His loss was equal to mine, we both lost a son, he also lost all of the tomorrows with Alex and still ponders on the what could have beens just like I do.

I haven’t written a blog for quite some time but I just had to today to highlight the importance of not forgetting that Daddy’s hurt too. Whilst I strongly believe that there is a lot of work to be done to improve the care of men following the loss of a child I would just like to end it today by saying to all of the Daddy’s with a child in their hearts that I hope you have a gentle Father’s Day. You are all incredible and I know that your baby’s will be watching over you today with nothing but love and admiration.

And if you know a Father who missing a child today I’m sure a little message to let them know that you’re thinking about them would be very welcome.

Rachel & Alex xxx

What Would Life Be Like With Three?

It’s a question I often ask myself. What would it really be like? How would we have managed? Would they really have all fitted into the car? Well Saturday we got the answer and I wont lie, it was bittersweet. We looked after my best friend’s son for the day and despite all of the warnings we had received from perfect strangers when I was pregnant, it wasn’t chaos, we didn’t lose a child and we definitely didn’t find ourselves rocking in a corner with a bottle of wine by 7pm. In fact, it was quite the opposite, we had the best day!

But like so many things these days, the experience has left me struggling to appease conflicting thoughts and emotions. I feel torn between the contentment of a great day, the sadness that Alex should have been there and the bittersweet taste of life with three children.

I often got the impression that some people thought we were crazy for having three children. The truth is that I actually wanted four, Rob wanted two and so we did the grown-up thing and compromised on three (with me secretly hoping he would come round to the idea of a fourth).  The general consensus was that three children under the age of four was absolute lunacy! Most of my pregnancy was lived out to a soundtrack of “good luck with that!” “It must have been an accident”! “Are you crazy”? “How on earth are you going to cope”?  “How on earth will you go to a theme park when one child will be sitting on their own”? “How will you ever be able to cross the road when you don’t have a hand for each child to hold”?  My standard reply to these questions was always that we will cope because there is no other option but to cope.

But Saturday taught me something, I learnt that whilst I am in no doubt there would have been tough days where just coping was the only option (isn’t there always with children), there would also have been days where we more than just coped. There would have been days where we excelled at being parents to three children, days where we could pat ourselves on the back and smugly reassure each other that we’ve got this parenting lark sorted. There would have been days where we not only managed to get three children dressed and fed but where we also managed to get out of the house! (A miracle I know!) There would have been days where they screamed with excitement in the car because we were going on an adventure. There would have been days where we made magical memories to last all three of them a lifetime. Having three would not have been the grey hair inducing hell that people seem to imagine it to be and I know that we would have loved every second of it.

So I guess that even though it made me sad to think of what could and should have been, it also settled an internal battle I hadn’t fully acknowledged I was fighting. I realised that I constantly question myself throughout my daily activities, always wondering if I could have coped with Alex in the mix. When I’m rushing in the morning to get two children fed, dressed and at nursery in time for me to get to work I wonder if I would have had enough time to feed and dress an additional child. When I’m battling with two fed up children in the supermarket on a busy Saturday afternoon I wonder how on earth I would have managed with Alex as well. But this is our life now, without Alex, and imagining him in our current lives will never seem like a perfect fit. The reality is, that if things had gone to plan and Alex was with us today then I may not be back at work at all or at the very least I would have been getting up earlier to allow time to get Alex ready as well.

I now realise that the question I need to be asking myself isn’t, how would I have coped? I know for sure that I would have. Instead maybe I can wonder who would have fallen in the mud first? Where would we have gone? What magical adventure would we have imagined? Would we have gone out to hunt for bear’s, fairy’s or dinosaur’s? Who would have eaten all the bread for the ducks instead of feeding them? The thought process of doubting my ability to cope with three children was instilled in me throughout my pregnancy with Alex and then only exacerbated by his loss. His death left me feeling like I had failed my child in the worst possible way and doubting my abilities as a Mother. Our day out with three children gave me back some of what I had lost, confidence in myself.

And the best part of it all? Alex still found a way, as he always does, to send William a white feather. He was there with us hunting dinosaurs in the woods.

Love Rachel & Alex xx

Cycling For Alex & 4Louis

I’ve been so lucky to have a great group of friends to support me through the loss of Alex but my best friend Kerry definitely deserves a special mention. Our parents live opposite each other and we have grown up together always being the best of friends. No matter where we have been or what we have done we always come back to each other and nothing changes, the very definition of friendship I think most would agree. Our friendship truly showed its worth when I lost Alex. I felt so ashamed, I wondered if people would think, like I did, that I had done something wrong and I was devastated that people wouldn’t want to see my beautiful boy because he wasn’t alive. For those reasons, I didn’t want to see anyone at all, I didn’t know what to say to them and I couldn’t bear to see anyone’s distaste towards Alex. It felt safer to exist in our little bubble of grief with Alex and my family rather than risk inviting other people into it and possibly causing more upset.

So, in true Kerry style, she did what exactly what I needed without even knowing it. She just marched in and picked up my baby. She held him, rocked him and cuddled him exactly as she had with William and Thomas when they were born. She commented on his long fingers and toes, she picked out the similarities to his brothers and told me he was perfect. That moment in time helped me more than I can ever explain. She erased some of my fears and lifted a few of the worries from my shoulders. Her actions showed me that people wouldn’t be afraid to see Alex and most of all I could clearly see that she loved him. It broke my heart all over again to think of the relationship Alex should have had with his Auntie Kez but it meant so much that they got to meet each other and we all got to make a memory. Even now, further down the line in our life after loss I still find Kerry to be one of my most important support mechanisms, she met Alex and saw the depths of our sorrow and because of that she ‘gets it’ more than most.

 

So why am I telling you about this? Well, a few months ago Kerry came to me and asked if she could raise some money in Alex’s memory. The reply was obviously, ‘of course!’ And it was decided that a bike ride to Cornwall would be the perfect challenge. Cornwall is a special place for our family, I have been going every year since I was a child, in fact I’ve missed most of Kerry’s birthdays due to being down there every year in August. After Alex’s funeral, Rob and I escaped down there for a few days away to gather our thoughts. I needed to hear the waves and smell the sea air since the first day we lost Alex. It brings me so much peace. So Kerry, her sister Katie and Katie’s partner Jayne are riding the 380 miles to Cornwall on spin bikes. The event will be held outside Pure Gym at Bentley Bridge, Wednesfield on the 2^nd September so anyone local who fancies coming along to cheer them on you will be more than welcome!

Over the years Kerry and I have tried a multitude of things to get fit and lose weight. We’ve dieted, we’ve joined gyms and we’ve tried exercise classes. We even tried a personal trainer once and quit after feeling totally broken for a week afterwards! I’ll never forget him making her jog for 5 minutes on the treadmill and her shouting that she couldn’t do it and nearly having a tantrum in the middle of the gym! I think after all these years we’re finally starting to accept that we’d rather go out and eat cake or drink wine than exercise or diet. So it’s definitely safe to say that this will be a massive challenge for Kerry who probably doesn’t even remember how to get on a bike, never mind ride one for that distance!!

 

I can’t think of a more deserving charity to raise money for than 4Louis. When Alex was born and the room had calmed down a bit I so clearly remember the midwife coming in with the box. She sat down and quietly went through it with us, even through my sadness I remember feeling so incredibly amazed and grateful that someone could be so thoughtful as to create something like a memory box for parents in our position. I had no idea that such a thing even existed and I can’t say how glad I am that they do! We had three short days to collect and make enough memories to last us a lifetime and the memory box was a vital part of that. Our box is one of my most precious possessions as it’s pretty much all we have of our little boy. 4Louis make memory boxes for children who have passed away at all ages, each box is tailored for the age of the child. The boxes help families to feel less alone and to capture as many precious memories as they can. It contained so many beautiful things all thoughtfully wrapped in tissue paper:

A clay impression kit to capture Alex’s beautiful long fingers and toes

Forget Me Not seeds which we will plant in Alex’s memory garden

A balloon and a postcard to send a message to heaven-we are saving this for Alex’s first birthday

A curl box to keep a lock of Alex’s hair

An SD card so that we could take as many photos as we wanted to

Two teddies, one for Alex and one for us

A copy of the wonderful book Guess How Much I Love You

A candle and a card to write a message to Alex

£30 is all we need to provide one devastated family with a memory box to help ease their pain and give them lasting memories of their child. So even if you can only spare a pound or two to sponsor Kerry, Katie and Jayne we would all be so grateful and it will go a long way to helping other families cope with the loss of their precious child. Please click on the link below to donate.

Donate to Cycling for Alex & 4Louis here

Thank you

Rachel & Alex xx

Lets Break The Silence

I was under no illusion when I decided to write about Alex and our life after losing him that it would not be to everyone’s taste. Us British do not like talk of death and grief, we prefer a stiff upper lip over tears and emotion. I was recently told by a friend that someone who had read my blog had commented that it was morbid, and despite being prepared for negative comments, I have to admit that it bothered me. Morbid felt like a strong word and I felt that familiar feeling of shame after hearing it. And then I got frustrated, frustrated with our society and its ignorance of stillbirth and frustrated at its willingness to turn the other cheek because talking of a baby dying makes us feel uncomfortable. So in light of that, I thought I would write a blog on why I feel talking about Alex is so important.

Morbid is defined as an abnormal and unhealthy interest in disturbing and unpleasant subjects such as death. And that is the basis of why the word bothered me so much. My interest in Alex is not at all abnormal and unhealthy, my interest is exactly the same as any other mother has in their child, it is healthy, natural and fierce. I cannot help that Alex’s story centres around his death and I cannot help that this makes people feel uncomfortable. And yet because of that, over and over again families of stillborn babies are ostracised and ignored by society. I’ve always said that I wouldn’t wish losing a child on my worst enemy and its true, I honestly wouldn’t. The pain is indescribable. But there is the odd occasion where I just wish that people could walk a mile in our shoes to have a better understanding of what its like. Hopefully then they would see that the stigma and taboo surrounding child loss is a constant battle for us. Losing a child is painful enough without having to put the feelings of the masses before our own.

And yet it is hard to blame people for their ignorance when the media and government do so little to light the way and open up the conversation around stillbirth. The BBC recently declined to show Still Loved, a documentary showing peoples experiences after losing a baby, as it was deemed to be too upsetting. It was then shown in selected cinemas around the UK but some of those also declined as ‘who would want to see that?’ 1 in every 200 babies are born still. 10 babies a day! This is not something that should be easy to ignore, we need to talk about it, we need to educate ourselves and we need to get better at supporting those 10 parents who lost a baby today. As parents to stillborn babies one of our biggest fears is that our children will be forgotten. The only way to stop that is by talking and people need to understand that this is totally normal.

By myself and other parent sharing our babies stories there are so many amazing things which can be achieved. The first has to be more funding of research into miscarriage, stillbirth and neonatal death. This area is massively underfunded by the government and that means that the all-important research into preventing so many babies dying is simply not happening. Only by talking and getting the issue out there will we be able to accomplish this goal.

By opening up the conversation around stillbirth, family and friends will hopefully have a better understanding of how to support parents grieving for their baby. Everyone grieves differently but having more awareness of grief and its different forms will allow families to grieve in whatever way they need to and not feel judged. Parents themselves will also know that what they are going through is normal. When we lost Alex I had no idea that what I was feeling was so common following a stillbirth. It is totally normal to feel angry, ashamed, confused, lonely and guilty as well as being desperately sad, it is normal for your arms to physically ache for your baby. Reading other peoples experiences of stillbirth and seeing that they felt the same things as me helped me not feel so alone. Those stories filled the gap and answered the questions that my family and friends couldn’t.

And lastly, I have found that by talking openly about Alex we are creating new, positive and exciting memories in his name. I have had a couple of friends come to me in recent months wanting to do things to raise money in memory of Alex for charities like 4Louis, SANDS and Tommy’s (I will post details of these on the blog as soon as I have them) These wonderful events not only help these incredible charities but they will give us an easier way to bring Alex into a conversation. It will always begin with “we are doing this because our son was born sleeping” but hopefully when coupled with a charity event people will find it more palatable.

I will never apologise for speaking out and telling Alex’s story. The silence needs to be broken and how can we do that if we conform and stay silent? I made Alex a promise before I left him in the hospital, and that was that I would always speak about him, I would never be ashamed and I would never let him be forgotten. I intend to keep my promise and by speaking about him I intend to make the noise that he never had the opportunity to make.

Rachel & Alex x

How It All Started

Thank you for taking the time to visit my blog. I would like to use my first post to tell you a little about our beautiful Alex and why I am doing this. We have just returned from a family holiday to Crete and in my quiet moments I have read, as i often do, other blogs detailing peoples experiences surrounding stillbirth. People writing about their lives following the devastating loss of a child has been one of the most important things for me following our own loss. It helped me to feel less alone, it helped me to realise that my feelings were normal and most of all it helped me to see that there would be a light at the end of the tunnel. I began to see that the hurt from Alex will never go away and we will always feel his loss deeply but the pain will become less acute in time and we will be able to find a new normal where we feel fulfilled by life again.

I have often thought that I would like to write about Alex and how we have all coped following his birth with the hope that we can help other people dealing with child loss. Alex made me realise that I can, and I should do more. I should push myself, I should challenge myself and I should (cliche I know) live life to the fullest. Life is short and I now not only live life for myself but I live it for Alex. So why not? If I can help one person drowning in the rough seas of grief following stillbirth then this will all have been worth it.

Alexander Robert Anthony Maguire made us wait, he was 8 days overdue and I was starting to get really snappy at the ‘isn’t baby here yet?’ questions. He finally decided to make an appearance at 10.58am on Monday 7th November 2016. He was 8lb 10oz and perfect in every single way. The only difference was that Alex never cried, he never opened his beautiful eyes, he never snuggled into me for his first feed, he never wrapped his long fingers around mine and he never got to come home with us. As our third baby Alex’s pregnancy was a breeze, after all I had been there and done that twice already. After two low risk pregnancies and straight forward births prior to Alex there was no need to think that this time would be any different. I used to get comments on what a natural mother I was and how I made it look so easy, it would be easy again, surely. Little did we know what life had in store for us all.

Rachel & Alex xx