After we lost Finley it seemed for a while that I lost my hope. The future was not the bright place it was meant to have been, it wasn’t the place it used to be either. For a while, hopes and dreams and aspirations were impossible to find, I didn’t even remember that I used to have them. Then the false hopes and dreams existed, those moments where you allow yourself to believe that Finley is here but sleeping and you are rudely awoken from this day dream in the supermarket where a baby cries, and you turn to him and realise again that it’s not your baby, never your baby. Even though you know he is gone, that instinct that awoke during those months of carrying them and suddenly blazed bright the moment they are born responds without you asking it to. Your stomach turns over every time you hear a baby cry, your heart breaks every time you see a Mum shout at her child, you wake in the night thinking you can hear them, feel them or smell them.

But hope is an amazing thing. It does return. With a little digging, you can find that tiny little sparkle. It may be miniscule, you may walk right past it but it is there. It can be nurtured and it grows. And with the return of hope comes the return of the future. Its not what it was going to be, nor is it what you imagined but it is there. Just one step away, and one more and one more. And if there is a future there are dreams and aspirations. They too have changed, they might be bigger or smaller than before but they are there. I found that my new dreams related to Finley. To keeping his memory alive in many ways, but then underneath I realised that all of these things had been dreams before. They just had no focus. I’d always wanted to write a book, so I wrote one about Finley. I’d always wanted to use my skills to support others, so I do this in memory of Finley. Perhaps other people don’t understand it, but when you have been through a loss you do. The child you lost is always with you, beside you, in your heart and in your thoughts. They exist in every minute of every day. This fact in itself is enough to bring you a shard of hope to get you through the darkest days.

Your hopes, dreams and aspirations are legitimate. They are trying to take you airborne, above the clouds, above the storms, if you only let them.

If you find your hope, and your dreams, allow them to take you above the clouds – there they will meet your angel who will add strength to them.

This weekend we went to an 18th birthday party.  It was the first time seeing a lot of the family since losing Finley, and my brother in law, girlfriend and niece came.  We all stayed over.  I really enjoyed lots of cuddles and making my niece smile.  It was rather amusing that she smiles and laughs at the hubby, but completely ignores her Dad! 

It was later on I found it really hard.  We were all staying in one room, and my niece was overtired and cried for a long time before falling asleep.  I found it so hard.  Since losing Finley I am so tuned in to babies crying because I wanted so much to hear Finley cry.  It was so hard to allow her parents to comfort her and get her to sleep.  And then all night I was dreaming about our baby, and dreaming about giving birth but the baby not crying.  Then I would wake up and hear my niece making all these cute snuffly baby noises, and stirring.  It was those first few seconds and I would have to tell myself again that it is not my baby, my baby died.

Noone understands how hard it really is.  My brother in law said thanks for looking after the baby, and people were giving me careful looks while I was cuddling her, but even my hubby does not understand the physical response to a baby crying. Its so hard to explain.  Its like my instincts are still expecting a baby that needs to be cared for.  It is almost like a pain in me when I hear a baby  cry.  My immediate response is to turn to go to it, several times I have been in the Supermarket and heard a cry and even taken a step towards it before I realise again that my baby died. 

I was never really a maternal person.  A few years ago, if you had asked me did I want any children?  I would have told you no, there is too much hurt and pain in the world to bring a child into this misery.  Then I met my hubby.  He was so fantastic with everyone’s kids, I knew he had to be a Dad.  Gradually I came round to the idea.  By the time we lost our first baby I was thinking that I definately wanted to be a Mum, and for us to be a family.  After we lost the first baby after only a few days of knowing I was pregnant I became even more sure. We tried and tried, but with no success.  After the due date passed I remember telling the other half that I couldn’t face the heart ache every month, and wanted to stop trying.  Of course it was then that we got pregnant.  I became so focused on my pregnancy.  I loved it.  To lose Finley right at the end was so cruel, to lose something so wanted for so long seemed so unfair. 

And now I am left with this huge huge instinct to nurture and care for my children, with nothing to focus it on.  The cats are getting spoilt!

Since losing my baby I have discovered whole communities of people who have been through the same thing, or similar.  These groups of people have undoubtedly been a great source of support for me.  However recently I have discovered they also mirror society as a whole. Some people give unconditionally, some people are always happy and some people lie.  It amazes me but there are actually people out there who lie about having lost a child.  They actually want to be angel mummies.  I will keep my thoughts on this to myself, and allow you to consider this.

My thoughts today are with an online friend who has lost.  She has been looking for support as she is very low.  I am absolutely disgusted to find out that instead of supporting her where possible, people have chosen to accuse this person of being a fake.  She has had to focus on proving that she has lost her babies.  A wonderful person who is already vulnerable is now made lower because people do not trust in what she has said.

I am concerned about this, why should people have to prove they have lost their baby in order to receieve support, why is support conditional.  If you were so low, and so alone and found the courage to reach out and people just attacked you, accusing you of lying, what would that do?  It could happen to anyone of us. What happens when you need help yourself and it is not present?

What will you choose to do when presented with someone – stranger or friend who needs your support?

The particular tomorrow that I had been dreading was Mothers Day 2010.  I have relaxed a little now that Mothers Day 2010 is yesterday.  I had not realised how much of my thoughts had been taken up with worrying about it.  I have had some different experiences of Mothers Days.  Of course until 2008 my main experiences of Mothers Day had been making cards at school for my Mum, then as time moved on buying presents and cards for her.  Once I left home it became the annual fight with my memory to recall the correct Sunday and free up enough time to take a card and some liquorice all sorts over there.

In 2008 my experience of Mothers Days suddenly changed.  I found out I was pregnant the day before Mothers Day.  I remember sitting on our bed with my husband surrounded by 5 pregnancy test kits, in a state of dazed excitement.  Sadly even that Mothers Day is tinged with sadness as just a few days later I started bleeding, and had to go through the roller coaster of emotions during all the different tests that eventually were to tell me that it would be a miscarriage, that we would lose our baby.

Of course Mothers Day 2009 was a sad day, also filled with a little hope.  Mothers Day 2009 found me sporting the beginnings of a little football shaped bump as we were 5 months pregnant with Finley.  I sadly thought of the baby that should have been, as I cradled my bump and dreamed of what would be.  I had recieved a card from the bump (which we had called flump!).

That brings us to Mothers Day 2010.  For a few weeks before I had tried to put it to the back of mind, rather unsuccessfully as every time you walk into a shop there are big banners saying things like “Treat your Mum on March 14th” in big pink letters.  It was such a strange feeling to be approaching a day, which in other lives would begin with me having breakfast in bed, and opening presents and cards and having a big squishy cuddle with my baby, while laughing at the toddler trying to climb on the bed.  This time I had recieved a card from a friend with a lovely poem inside it, written from my angels.  A lovely thought, from someone who realised that the day would be tough and wanted to take some of the pain away.

Even though you’re down below,
and we are up above.
We’re sending you our wishes
and all our angel love

Its really quite exciting,
to plan this big event,
for lots of gifts will come your way
and all are heaven sent.

First we’ll take a bubble bath,
our splashes might cause some rain.
But knowing all the fun were having
will help to ease your pain.

We have color crayons in heaven,
and we’ll draw some stars so bright.
and place them in the sky today
for you to see tonight

Then Jesus will have story time,
and we will sit upon his lap.
He’ll tell us all about you,
just before we take a nap.

We’ll awake full of energy,
and play a game or two.
Before we finish sending
all our love to you.

After snack we’ll write a song,
for all the birds to sing.
And know we’ve made you happy,
with all the joy it brings .

At night we’ll be tired,
but we’ll still hold you tight.
Our arms will wrap around you
and keep you through the night.

And when you finally slumber
we will kneel and pray.
Asking god to bless you,
on this special mothers day.

I wonder sometimes whether people who are so lucky and have their children their, actually take the time to see how wonderful their babies smiles are, how blessed they are to hear the cute little noises they make. 

It is anniversaries like today that make me think about what we are missing.  I miss Finley so much.  I am not so tearful, and not so desperately sad as I was in the early days.  But I do wish things were different.

I decided that I would be careful about using the words good and bad.  I noticed that other people referred to days when I was upset as bad days, then I started to call them this as it was easier for other people to understand.  If they called and I said I was having a bad day, I did not have to say anything else.  Then I noticed bad days started to feel like even worser days, then words like hard, and terrible have to be used.  Then where do you end up?  You end up in a space where you run out of enough gradually declining terms to describe them and the neutral days start to look like bad days too.  So I started acknowledging the day for what it was, simply a day.  I also started to pay a bit more attention to my feelings when I found myself saying I was having a bad day.  I found that the days I was describing as bad days have various feelings attached from fear, sadness, and guilt to anger and hatred.

I have had my beliefs shaken this week.  I don’t believe that bad things come in three’s, or that bad things happen to good people. However this week it has been incredibly hard to not start to suspect something.  My hubbys Grandad died and then his Mum became unwell.  What would the 3rd thing be?  However these are isolated incidents, and do not signifiy the beginning of the end, or that another unwanted thing will occur.

However I do wish to believe that we will have some good news and better fortune soon thankyou.  And I will allow myself to place the good and better judgement on things, as it is helpful to me!

6 months ago we were impatiently waiting to be parents, excited and a little nervous.  Today we are parents, we have motherly and fatherly instincts, but nobody here to focus them on.  The cats have been fussed over no end, and I am sure the people on facebook feel very nurtured.

Things no longer feel certain or constant.  Things change all the time.  Just when I think I have worked it out it changes again.  This reflective mood I think has been enhanced by not having a car.  Today I went somewhere on the bus.  Once I had gotten over the shock of the £5 fare (the last time I went on a bus for a similar journey it was £1.70!) I noticed things I had not noticed before.  The fields were covered in what is left of last weeks blanket of snow and the journey was transformed.  This changed my state of mind.  Then as I got of the bus at the bus station I got to thinking.  The last time I used buses regularly I was going to college.  I was doing rather badly on a health and social care course, which eventually I passed.   I wandered through parks I had spent weekends in, and realised the last time I had been using buses was probably 14 years ago.  It is actually quite scary to realise I am that old, and days that feel like yesterday are actually years ago.

Looking back I realise how much life has changed in those years, the people that have come and gone.  This is a different life – now is very different to then.

How different will the future now of 2024 be to the present now of 2010?  Who knows?  Not me – but as the pieces of my life settle into some sort of recognisable pattern I am willing to find out.

The main part of the interview is at 20mins.

Full Interview with Mel

Shorter version with music

Below is a video of Finley accompanied by his mum’s interview, a tribute to a little guy who had a big impact.

Please be mindful that although this video is a celebration of Finley, it is composed of images taken in the days after he was stillborn, if this is likely to be in any way distressing to you, please do not watch.

ANGEL MUMS SHORT TAPE + MUSIC finleysfootprints.com