OUR RAINBOW BABIES
That’s what you call the little rays of sunshine who arrive after a mother loses a child
LOSING a baby to miscarriage, stillbirth or neonatal death is one of the most harrowing experiences for a woman. If another baby comes along they can feel heaven sent. They are the ‘rainbow babies’ who light up the sky when the storm clouds have passed. Here, six rainbow baby mums tell TANITH CAREY their stories.
HE’S OUR IRONMAN... OUR LITTLE FIGHTER Aiden WilliAms, 11 months, was born after his mother Rebecca, 36, a nurse, suffered eight miscarriages. she lives with her husband Warren, 43, an engineer, in denbighshire, Wales. I began to hate pregnancy tests and had grown cold to seeing the double lines. all they signified was heartache. I lost eight babies to unexplained miscarriages, one a year after I met my husband.
I was nearly broken when we sent our eighth baby, who’d died at 21 weeks, for a post-mortem and found out she was a girl.
It made her a real person with a name and a lost future. When the consultant called me in to go through the results I broke down. ‘Why take these little angels from me? What’s wrong with me?’ I sobbed.
He was amazing. He knelt on the floor to talk to me through my tears and said: ‘If you want to continue this fight, I’ll be with you every step of the way.’ He increased my medication and aiden was finally born in February last year.
I remember holding him and staring at him. I wouldn’t let the nurse take him off me. I couldn’t believe I had a healthy baby in my arms.
When they examined him, the doctors told us he had a small hole on the top of his heart. They didn’t seem concerned. They said they’d refer us to a specialist just in case.
but the follow-up appointment three months later revealed his condition was much more serious than originally thought. The doctor said he would need open-heart surgery at six months old to save his life.
Then one afternoon when he was just four months we were singing Five Little Ducks on my lap and aiden suddenly stopped breathing and went blue.
It was the worst moment of my life. Thanks to a british Heart Foundation leaflet, I knew what to do to resuscitate him. Three weeks later he had the operation. For us, it was hell on earth — seven hours of wandering the hospital corridors in a blur of anger, pain and helplessness.
The guilt that I had brought him into this world to go through this was unbearable. eventually, the call came that he had pulled through and his heart was beating by itself. now for his first birthday, on February 1, we’re going to take him to the aquarium as he loves bubbles and fish.
He is my light at the end of a dark storm. not a day goes by that I’m not grateful for him. Just one smile and my heart melts. He gives me strength. If a tiny person can go through so much in such a short time, anything is possible. He is our little ironman. OVERCOMING THIS HAS MADE ME STRONG AND FEARLESS siennA BRyAn was born on march 17 last year. Her parents, marketing manager leanne, 29, from Gloucester, and her husband Alan, 33, who works in finance, lost first baby isabella when leanne was six months pregnant in may 2015. I’D JusT got past the six-month mark in my first pregnancy when alan and I felt confident enough to go out baby shopping. surely, by this stage, we were home and dry?
The morning after I’d been looking at my baby names book in the bath, I woke up with terrible stomach pains and my husband called the ambulance. a scan revealed our baby’s heart had stopped.
all I could do was stare at the ceiling and think: ‘It’s over.’
although it’s very rare — happening in just one per cent of pregnancies, the placenta had detached from the womb wall for no apparent reason. Later that day, my husband’s birthday, I delivered our little girl, who we called Isabella.
Losing her was terrible, but giving birth to her, and holding her, gave me an an amazing sense of wonderment. she was tiny and perfect, and we’d made her.
One of the worst parts was walking out of the hospital leaving Isabella behind. When we got home, friends had thoughtfully cleared the house of our baby books. We were told the abruption was a fluke and that there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent it. still, I blamed myself.
We started trying again about eight months later and I fell pregnant seven months after that.
This time I really wanted to build up my blood supply for the new baby, so I went on a high protein diet with loads of nutritious whole foods. When our new daughter reached 37 weeks, I chose to be induced a little bit early. I just wanted her out safe and well.
at first, I worried that sienna’s arrival would eclipse my memories of Isabella. It was a relief how different they were. sienna came out screaming with a shock of ginger hair. she felt so much heavier compared to Isabella.
I’m so glad we got the chance to meet Isabella and she became a real person to us. I always wear a silver pendant with glass which is flecked with some of Isabella’s ashes and sienna often plays with it. going through this has made me a better mother. I’m stronger and more fearless than I ever realised. When you overcome something like this, there’s nothing to be afraid of.
GRIEF WON’T STOP BUT WE’RE AT PEACE
AlesHA skye was born in december 2017 after louisa Jones, 31, a maternity care assistant from Brighton, and husband Chris, 37, a maintenance worker, had two stillborn daughters, sienna and lexie. aFTer my first daughter was stillborn in 2015 at 32 weeks, I was advised by my bereavement midwife Hayley stevenson to be as positive as possible and imagine myself having a healthy baby again one day. but at the same time, she said no one could promise me that everything was going to be OK either. and it wasn’t. The following year, my second daughter, Lexie, was stillborn at 23 weeks. ‘Why me?’ you want to shout, but there was no reason. nature can be cruel and it seems their hearts just stopped.
both times, I had to give birth knowing my baby would never take her first breath. That doesn’t stop you hoping though, that it had all been a mistake, but of course that first cry of life never happens.
Painful though it was, I look back on that time with my baby girls so fondly. giving birth to them still felt like an achievement. but I also blamed myself: as a mother, you’re supposed to protect your children. I suffered two more early miscarriages too, so when I discovered I was pregnant early last year, naturally I was very anxious.
This time, I had precautionary daily injections to ensure there was better blood flow through the placenta. alesha was delivered by Hayley, who had counselled me throughout my pregnancies.
sienna would be three and Lexie two now. They’re together in the same burial ground overlooking the sea. We’ll never stop grieving for them and alesha will never replace them. but she’s made me feel at peace.
OUR BABY BROUGHT US BACK TOGETHER
FARRAH mckellAR was born in november, 2016. Her parents, natasha, 29, a customer service agent, and her partner, Andy, 29, a construction worker, from york, lost son Tommy at 11 days old to an undiagnosed heart condition in 2015. WHen Tommy was born, weighing 7lb 6.5oz, he was perfect. but
touching him, I noticed how cold his hands and feet were. Within six hours of his birth, we were home. As the days passed, I started to think something was very wrong. As well as being cold, he didn’t seem hungry and rarely cried.
But every health professional we asked reassured us everything was fine. On the evening of February 2, 2015, Tommy started to cry and wouldn’t be soothed.
He was lying on the bed with us when suddenly his crying stopped. When I looked down at him, he wasn’t breathing. He was floppy and unresponsive. We called 999.
My last memory of my baby was of a paramedic trying to resuscitate him at the top of the stairs. I still get flashbacks.
The results of the post-mortem showed he had a heart defect which meant the two main blood vessels leaving the heart were transposed. It explained why he was getting so cold and had no energy. His body was slowly being starved of oxygen. If it had been picked up before, with surgery there was a very good chance he would still be with us today.
We were so angry we voiced our concerns at the inquest to get better heart monitoring for babies.
The aftermath was very hard on my relationship with Andy. We dealt with our grief differently.
While I wanted to surround myself with family and friends, he wanted to go out and talk about it. He no longer felt like a parent, while I did. We split up for several months even after Farrah was conceived.
Now she is here, Farrah has brought us back together. Having been through so much, we understand each other better. She’s made us both realise we want the same thing.
Following Tommy’s death, York Hospital has introduced ‘ oxygen saturation checks’ in newborn babies. A hospital spokeswoman told a local paper: ‘This screening has been successful with several babies found to have conditions that are difficult to detect on examination alone.’ She said the hospital offered its sincere sympathies to the family for their loss.
OUR MIRACLE’S FIRST CRY WAS INCREDIBLE
Eden Cox was born in october last year after his mother Emma, 38, a secondary school maths head, and her husband, danny, 32, a civil servant, from Ashingdon, Essex, lost their unborn son Alfie in 2016. I’ll never forget the relief and joy of hearing Eden cry. The sound just utterly transfixed us. The horrible silence that accompanied Alfie’s arrival is something that will always haunt me, so to hear that noise, that confirmation of life, was just incredible. Alfie had started to develop problems at 20 weeks and was stillborn a week later. We kept him in a cot next to me in the hospital for a couple of days and I’d keep waking in the night to check on him, to see if it had all been a mistake. But he never moved.
In the weeks afterwards, I’d visit his grave. I put Christmas presents and balloons there for his birthday and would often pop down during my lunch break to eat a sandwich there. It was comforting to have somewhere I could talk to him.
When I fell pregnant again last year, I told Alfie I was expecting another boy. It was a difficult pregnancy so I’d ask him to keep his mummy and baby brother safe.
At 30 weeks, I started getting extreme back pain and my labour started. An hour later Eden was born, weighing 3lb 8oz. We chose ‘Eden’ because it means ‘delight.’
I felt a mixture of emotions — lucky, appreciative and so grateful for our little miracle. Often I’ll look at him sleeping in his cot and wonder whether Alfie would have looked like him. He is still a part of our lives. As my eldest son Jamie, who’s seven, says: ‘ He’s always watching us, Mum.’ When Eden is old enough, I’ll take him to Alfie’s grave and together we’ll thank him for looking after his baby brother.
AT LAST WE HAVE A HAPPY ENDING
Marlowe Hope Irish was born in July last year four years after her mother Keely, 36, a personal banker, and father Curtis, a contract manager from royston, Herts, lost their daughter at 19 days. They endured two miscarriages plus an ectopic pregnancy before their ‘rainbow’ arrived. I WAS 36 weeks pregnant when I noticed my unborn daughter, Tallulah, was not kicking as much as usual. I alerted the hospital and had an emergency Caesarean but it was too late. She’d already suffered a stroke and catastrophic brain damage.
When she was born, she looked perfect and even yawned and opened her eyes but she had no consciousness. She couldn’t see or hear us. We spent 19 days with Tallulah in a children’s hospice until she finally passed away in our arms. It took a year to get pregnant again and then we had two early miscarriages, followed by an ectopic pregnancy. They had to remove one of my tubes, which halved my chance of conceiving.
I was starting to give up on the idea of a happy ending.
With a lot of care and monitoring, Marlowe finally became our rainbow. I couldn’t believe I had the baby I’d wanted for so long.
While I wouldn’t wish our experience on anyone, I would not wish Tallulah had not been in my life. She was a blessing and we had precious days with her.
All anyone wants is to be loved and Tallulah was loved for every single moment of her short life. She never left our arms.
Now she is buried with my mum Dawn, who died of breast cancer when I was 14. It’s a comfort that they are together.