Fundraising is our way of parenting Harry because I’m so proud to be his mum

I got pregnant with Harry within months of trying and we were so excited, just assumed everything would be fine. Now I’m in that world where I know it doesn’t always go the way you want it to go.

Giving birth at 26 weeks

I felt pretty sick, but mostly good for the first 12 weeks and beyond, other than slightly elevated blood pressure at a midwife appointment in week 25. The 12 week, then 20 week scans went fine.

Then, one Saturday night in my 26th week of pregnancy, I started feeling a lot of pain but put it down to stomach cramps. Later, I stood up and my waters broke. There was a lot of blood so I call David, who was out with friends, and he immediately got in a cab.

The hospital had said not to wait for an ambulance so friends rushed me straight there. I’d assumed our baby had gone, knew 26 weeks was too early, but they found a heartbeat.

Within 10 minutes I’d seen various medical teams, including neonatal, and was told 98% of babies born at 26 weeks in that hospital survive. The problem was I'd had a placental abruption, and I was losing so much blood, so they monitored me and we tried to wait long enough for them to give them steroid injections for his lungs.

Unfortunately we didn’t have time to do the injections, and he was born a few hours later by c-section. All I could think was that he was too little, not ready for this. He was whisked straight to NICU.

Losing Harry

I had no idea what was going on when I came around but David had seen him and showed me pictures. I could see he was so tiny, knew he was really unwell, but the doctors were working hard on him. When we saw him the following day the doctors seemed fairly positive, although they were very clear the first 72 hours were critical.

Our family came and a close friend, I’m so glad they all got to meet Harry. We had thought we’d have plenty of time, but we didn’t.

On Tuesday, I was called down to NICU urgently where they said he’d had a stroke, his lungs were failing and there was nothing they could do. I don’t really remember much about what happened next.

They said we could take as long as we wanted. Sometimes I think about how I wish we’d had longer but I know it was never going to be long enough.

He had dark hair, a lot of it, and long fingers and toes, I think he would have been tall. He looked graceful, and my pregnancy with him was so calm, I think that’s how he would have been, a calming influence in our household.

We took photos, we held him, we said goodbye that afternoon. The worst bit was leaving the hospital without him. I kept holding my stomach, I still felt pregnant.

I remember being completely numb as we drove home then I went through the motions of living for the next weeks.

I’d been offered a bereavement midwife but my own midwife was excellent so I preferred to deal with her and actually requested her for my subsequent pregnancies.

Finding Tommy’s

I got pregnant again in January 2018. I’d been referred to the blood pressure clinic and premature birth clinics because, after losing Harry, they thought my blood pressure could potentially have been undiagnosed pre-eclampsia, which would have been a risk factor.

I’d heard of Tommy’s and, when I started thinking about getting pregnant again after losing Harry, visited the website where I found the number for the midwife helpline. They helped me talk through feelings that felt so confusing, helped me validate what I was feeling.

She understood the anxiety wasn’t going anywhere and we worked on coping mechanisms. It was still the longest 9 months in the world but I did feel supported, less alone.

I had additional scans and midwife appointments throughout the pregnancy, the scans were fine but I was incredibly anxious. Charlie then arrived by planned c-section in September 2018. Walking into theatre at the same hospital on the same wards was unbelievably difficult, but my midwife made sure the medical team all understood our situation and history.

When the surgeons pulled him out, I thought something was wrong until he made a noise. Then I didn’t want to let go of him.

I had the same support through my next pregnancy with Sebastian in 2020-21, although Covid made it a very different experience. I found it hard to juggle a 2-year-old, my appointments and trying to find the space to grieve Harry. Covid also meant David couldn’t come to any scans or appointments which was awful, every time I’d break down in tears and have to explain why. I understood why the sonographers didn’t immediately say everything was fine but each time I so wished they were quicker to check me and the baby.

Again, it was a planned c-section at 39 weeks but Sebastian does everything on his own terms. I went into labour a few hours before we were due into theatre, I think he wanted to get a jump on the queue.

It was hard because the hospital staff were run off their feet and David could only visit for 2 hours due to Covid restrictions. But I had Sebastian with me all the time.

Making space to parent Harry

Grieving a child is complex and unimaginably painful. It has been 6 years and there are still times when I’m hit with a wave of grief from nowhere. I’ve learned it’s important to be kind to yourself and allow yourself to sit with that grief if you can.

It’s also important to me to make space to parent Harry, to have time that’s just with him. Exercise has always been good for me both mentally and physically so I started running again and that’s my time with Harry.

We planted a tree for him in the local park and I catch a glimpse of that when I run which helps me feel connected to him. Fundraising has also helped.

Most parents share photos or stories of what their kids are doing, we can’t do that with Harry, so fundraising has become our story of what he’s achieved. It’s another way of parenting him because I’m so proud to be his mum, I feel so lucky he chose us and so grateful for the short time with spent with him.

The last few years we’ve raised money for Tommy’s, I’ve run the London Landmarks and the Royal Parks Half Marathon and David has run the Thames Challenge 100k and done Ride 100.

I love being a part of that lovely Tommy’s community. I also know the money we raise will help others feel less alone, will hopefully lead to discoveries that will prevent placental abruption and ensure others do not have to go through this loss, this grief. That’s my hope.

Charlie and Sebastian visiting their brother's tree in their local park