Angel mission A reader’s precious baby girl came here for a reason
Let’s start trying for a baby,’ I declared to my hubby Jonathan, then 26.
Except, a year on, in July 2011, we’d no success.
Diagnosed with polycystic ovary syndrome, I was prescribed tablets to help. Sadly though, in May 2012, I had an ectopic pregnancy, and miscarried at six weeks.
But then, in March 2013…
‘I’m pregnant!’ I announced.
We were delighted, but nervous.
Due to my ectopic, I’d an early scan at six weeks.
I gasped, amazed at the life growing inside me.
Still, I was anxious.
A midwifery support worker, seeing babies arrive daily was wonderful, but I witnessed tragedy, too. It played on my mind. At our 20-week scan, our baby was showing as healthy. Yet, I suffered nightmares.
One took place in a spooky haunted house.
No matter which door I ran to, I couldn’t escape.
Then, around 28 weeks, I had a vivid dream I couldn’t shake. I’d just had a Caesarean, Jonathan was with me, and I was cradling a baby girl with a gorgeous shot of black hair. Only… ‘It’s fine she’s just got little arms,’ I said
aloud in the dream.
Then, I woke with a jolt. What did it mean? I confided in Jonathan. ‘Just a panic dream,’ he reasoned. Thankfully, on 25 November 2013, Pippa arrived safely. Healthy. Then, when she hit 11 months, I’d a familiar feeling in my tummy… I couldn’t be… Could I? Yes! At 16 weeks pregnant, we decided to go for a private scan to discover the sex. There, our bubble burst. ‘The baby’s legs are measuring two weeks shorter than expected,’ the sonographer said. We didn’t even take in we were expecting a girl. Dazed, we went straight to Bassetlaw Hospital where tests revealed our baby had a rare form of brittle bone disease. ‘She’ll likely die in the womb or soon after,’ the doctor said, offering a termination.
Meant to be
That night, we wept. Then, it hit me… my dream! ‘I think I’m meant to have her,’ I breathed. ‘We should give her a chance,’ Jonathan agreed. As my bump grew, I prayed for a miracle. And, like my dream, Rosie Jo survived a Caesarean at Royal Hallamshire Hospital on 16 September 2015, weighing just 4lb 10oz. My mum Sue, 59, looked after Pippa while Jonathan was at my side. What struck me first was
At 28 weeks, I had a vivid dream I couldn’t shake Our Rosie Jo was a little fighter On borrowed time, we cuddled, kissed and loved her My precious baby girl came here for a reason Joanne Tennick, 31, from Thurcroft, Rotherham
her shot of dark hair. Just as in my premonition. Apart from her shorter limbs and barrel-shaped chest, she looked beautiful.
Rushed to neo-natal, Jonathan sat with her while I recovered. But, four hours on, I joined them.
She was alert and I hoped the doctors had been wrong.
Only, that night, Rosie Jo deteriorated.
Her breathing laboured and she was placed on oxygen.
Next day, we had her baptised and Pippa came to meet her sister for a cuddle.
Pippa was only 20 months, and didn’t understand. So during the pregnancy, we said her sister would be poorly.
Rosie was diagnosed with osteogenesis imperfecta type II – a rare condition.
With little more doctors could do, we made the hard decision to remove her ventilation. On borrowed time, we cuddled, kissed and loved her.
Than, just 28 hours old, Rosie slipped away.
We had a space at Bluebell Wood Children’s Hospice, Sheffield, so spent 10 days there visiting Rosie Jo in a refrigerated nursery, surrounded by fairy lights. I wrapped her in a white blanket, knitted by my grandmother Elsie.
Inside her casket we placed letters, angel wings and teddy bears. We held her cremation at Rotherham Crematorium on 29 September.
That day, my cousin Sarah was in Hastings and couldn’t join us.
So she wrote Rosie Jo’s name in stones on the beach and snapped a photo.
When we or any friends and family visit a beach, Rosie’s name is written and shared online. Incredibly, word spread and Rosie Jo’s appeared in sand in over 300 places around the world.
Then, in January 2016, we attended a bereavement class at Bluebell Wood Hospice.
There, we met Charlotte Mayor, 40, who’d lost her little girl Elsa at 10 months old. The bond of grief brought us close.
Determined Rosie Jo’s life would make a difference, that February, I organised a ball to raise money for the hospice.
We held another this year and, in total we’ve
I’d seen mediums before, but in March 2016, I visited a new one for the first time. ‘You’ve a little girl in the present, and one in spirit,’ she said. ‘She’s healed now. She’ll send you three little birds.’ That afternoon, I went to collect Pippa from my motherin-law Jayne, 59. At hers, a little teapot hangs outside the back door. ‘Three chicks!’ Pippa said. Robins had made a nest in the teapot, and inside were three chicks. It filled my heart with warmth. On my hardest days, I often see a white feather and I know Rosie Jo’s still with us. I’ll keep fundraising in her memory. My dream showed she was meant to be in this world. Like all angels, it’s to change it for the better.
Rosie Jo’s name has been on 300 00 beaches
Little family: We miss Rosie Jo