Couldn't Live Without Three.....by Tiffany

Tiff has written very honestly about the physical experience of the miscarriage which followed the death of her son from SIDS.  However, she herself says she is still too numb to be able to explore her emotions in a similar way. We hope that she will be able to do so in the future.

Three  days after Mother’s Day in 2014, I lost my 7 week old baby boy Wade to SIDS. Days and weeks went past and my husband and I were finding it hard to adjust to having two kids again and we were talking about having another:  not to replace our little man but to help us with our grief.

In September 2014 we found out we were pregnant again, but this time our fear was not losing our baby to SIDS -  never did we think of the unthinkable.

When I was 7 weeks pregnant I unfortunately went through trauma. I was checked and the baby and I were doing great.

At 12 weeks that all changed. I started bleeding very heavily. I went to the doctor and had an ultrasound done. They found I had a subchorionic hematoma (which is bleeding in the wall of the uterus) caused by the trauma. They told me it would either grow or shrink and it was a waiting game. My daughters witnessed everything during this pregnancy and I wished I could take it all away.

By 16 weeks my bleeding had died down to just spotting and we were so excited that everything was going well at this point.  But then it turned again.

By 17 weeks I ended up in hospital with gastro and even worse bleeding, to the point where I was literally standing in pools of blood.  I had frequent ultrasounds and the clot was growing. It was now at the point that there was more clot than baby. I was in and out of hospital all week when I suddenly went into labour at 18 weeks on the 10/01/15, only 9 days after my 21st birthday.

The birth was horrific, the worst birth I’d ever had. At 3cm dilated I was already pushing and my baby was holding on until my cervix shut on him. My husband was sitting by me through the whole thing and I told him to pick a name as we knew it was a boy. We named him Jax. They told us straight out that because I was 18 weeks,  no matter happened what he wouldn’t make it. He took his last breath in my husband’s arms. I was expecting a normal looking baby but to start with I was extremely overwhelmed and it made me realise it was bad news. I was hoping it was all a dream.

After the birth they told me I lost about half my blood volume and given that I’m anaemic it was more serious. They told me I needed a blood transfusion, and I turned out that I needed 3 bags. During my first bag I recall my monitors going off and a lot of people in my room when I finally came to they told me my blood pressure dropped dramatically. But I recall nothing as I passed out for a few moments.

That night I spent in the ICU. Constantly being monitored for blood loss and having my extra bags of blood. The next afternoon all I wanted was to go home with my husband and girls. The hospital was too much for me. They hospital refused to let me leave and I kicked up a storm. I couldn’t stand being there. I couldn’t stand the doctors saying I was good and I knew that I wasn’t and it was my heart that wasn’t good.

I feel all this happened just because I was so used to having 3 kids and the routine I was in I wanted to bring another baby into our world so badly. My eldest constantly asks for a new baby brother and to this day I still can’t give her that wish.

Tiff

If you require support after reading this blog please contact

Sands on 13 000 72637

Tiffany Aghan

Wife to Luke and mummy to Tamara and Summer, in her arms, and Wade, Jax and Tristan, in heaven. I have recently completed certificates in law and in psychology and in the process of completing certificate in medicine. I am having time off at the moment to spend more time with my girls. But I am hoping one day I will continue where I want to go.

In Loving Memory of Thomas Bowden - Lyndy

In her first blog post, read about how Lyndy marked a special, but heartbreaking milestone – her precious son, Thomas’s 18th birthday.

This year marked a very special time in my life, I turned 50 and my precious son Thomas turned 18. I will tell you a little of my story. Thomas Bowden was born on the 20th August 1997. Unfortunately Thomas was diagnosed with HRHS, a condition where the right ventricle of the heart is underdeveloped and Transposition of the Great Arteries (TGA) at 26 weeks gestation.

The specialists all believed that Thomas would survive, but would require surgery. Thomas was born by C-section in our small hometown of Hobart Tasmania. He looked a picture of health, 9lb 15 oz of pure joy.

However, not long after he was born things started to go wrong. Thomas was placed on a ventilator and flown 600km away by air ambulance to the Royal Children's Hospital in Melbourne for treatment. On day 3, Thomas underwent a 10 hour surgery, the first of what was to be many surgeries. For 24 hours following Thomas heart surgery things went so well, he was placed on at least 20 different machines doing so many different things to keep him alive.

Day 4 brought with it a special celebration. When I arrived at Thomas's bed that morning there was a special card saying "HAPPY BIRTHDAY MUMMY LOVE THOMAS", what a beautiful gift. The day went along smoothly until around dinner time when suddenly machines started to beep everywhere. Doctors were called but in my mind I still believed everything would be okay. More machines beeped and alarms went off. Code Blue is called and people come from everywhere to try and save Thomas's life. I paced, I cried, in my mind I screamed, how could I stand here and watch this happen to my child, my baby. This will always be something I later regret, I left the room. I was placed in a small room for what seemed like an eternity but in reality probably was not. I remember the Doctor entering the room but still to this day I cannot remember him telling me Thomas had died.

For all I remember is that sound, the sound that came deep from within me, the sound of my heart breaking, the sound that only a parent who has a child die can truly understand.

When I returned from Melbourne a friend told me about Sands. I needed to be able to talk with people who understood my pain and what my journey would now be like without Thomas in my life. Over the past nearly 18 years Sands has been by my side, supporting me and acknowledging that grief is a lifetime journey. Sands gave me hope and understanding.

Over the years, I have thought about long and hard about what I could do to mark this very special but heartbreaking birthday. I could have organised a party, or had a special dinner but I needed to do something that had meaning, something that could make a difference, something that allowed others to celebrate Thomas’s life.

I came across a site called Everyday Hero. The title of the page resinated with me, for Thomas is my hero, I am the person I am today because of Thomas’s existence, however brief it was.

I decided that I would seek donations for Sands in memory of Thomas’s 18^th Birthday. Setting up Everyday Hero was so easy, I needed that, I didn’t want anything complicated for me or for the people that were going to donate. I was not sure how it would go but set a target of $500, sent the link to all my friends and family and was truly overwhelmed with the generosity by my loved ones, and even people that I didn’t know. Together we raised $798 for Sands. To me this page meant so much, to be able to give back to Sands in memory of my beautiful son. There are no words to describe how this felt, but I will say I felt privileged that Thomas meant so much to so many people. 

A poem for Thomas:

In the quiet of the night I remember like it was yesterday..... and as the tears fall softly down my cheek I think of how you felt in my arms and how you smelt like the sweetest spring day..... the bond between parent and child is so powerful...I wish beyond wishes that things were different but as a wise person once said...." When you accept what has happened, you aren't acknowledging that it is okay but rather, that you know you must find a way to keep growing and living - even if you don't feel like it...Don't let grief be your constant companion...Realize that your grief is born out of unconditional love for your child and rejoice in that love which will never end... Embracing life again is not a sign that you have stopped missing your baby, but an example of a love that is eternal" 

♥ I love you and miss you Thomas Anthony Bowden ♥

20/08/97 ~ 24/08/97

Thank you for taking the time to read about my Thomas. If you would like to create a tribute page for your baby like I did, click on the link below and sign up. 

https://www.everydayhero.com.au/event/Inmemorysands

Lyndy        

If you require support after reading this blog please contact

Sands on 13 000 72637

A New (And Happy) Chapter

Genevieve expresses her thanks to Sands and those that have supported her along her journey of grief following the death of precious Amalie.

     "I want to thank everyone at Sands and the wonderful mums I’ve met online 
      in other forums for their incredible support, care and empathy – both at the 
      time of Amalie’s death and ongoing."

It is 6 months tomorrow since my infant daughter Amalie died.  It seems both like yesterday and a lifetime ago.  I want to thank everyone at Sands and the wonderful mums I’ve met online in other forums for their incredible support, care and empathy – both at the time of Amalie’s death and ongoing.  I won’t go as far as saying I wouldn’t have made it through without you all, but I certainly wouldn’t have made through as well as I have done.  

I can honestly and gratefully report that I’m happy. Not just coping, but truly and deeply happy. A lot of credit goes to my wonderful partner.  It was not easy, but we worked through our grief together and have emerged far stronger as a couple because of it.  This is not for a minute suggesting that there is not still a lot of pain around our loss, and that there always will be.  We have just got better at integrating it, and at celebrating what we have rather than focusing on what we have lost.

We have decided to get married early next year. I know this seems like the wrong order of things, but the piece of paper didn’t seem so important to us before.  We are going to have the wedding at Amalie’s tree (her ashes were scattered in the roots as we planted it) so that she can be there with us.

And in other happy news, I am again pregnant and due in early January 2016. As usual, I’m as sick as a dog  (severe nausea and vomiting) and so the cat is out of the bag (apologies for the mixed animal metaphors).   This is my 7th pregnancy and they’ve all been the same in first trimester, so I wasn’t expecting to get away scot free this time!  So far everything is going as it should, and we’re very excited.

The tide has well and truly turned for us.

Genevieve

If you require support after reading this blog please contact

Sands on 13 000 72637

Genevieve Yates

Genevieve is a GP, medical educator, medical writer and musician from the Northern Rivers region of NSW. After a long and difficult road to motherhood, her beautiful daughter, Amalie Ella, was born in December, 2014.  Tragically, Amalie died of neonatal sepsis after only four days.

Through her clinical work, teaching and writing, she hopes to she can use her experiences to help support both patients and other doctors in managing the complex emotions surrounding fertility issues and perinatal loss, and also encourage more open discussion in the general community.

Her website can be found at: http://genevieveyates.com