An­gel mis­sion A reader’s pre­cious baby girl came here for a rea­son

Chat It's Fate - - Contents -

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.

Lit­tle arms

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.

A girl

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.

So rare

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.

Char­ity ball

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

raised £22,500.


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

Baby Elsa: Sadly missed

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