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Reflection. The build up. The heartbreak.

It’s been 6 years now and I still remember those feelings you get surrounding the day your baby dies.

It’s never usually about the day for me these days. It’s the build up.

Remembering those last few innocent weeks before your world came crashing down around you. Remembering a time where you were blissfully unaware that not everyone went into hospital and came out happy with a lovely baby to hold.

Did you know some people come out with a box instead?

I do. The only thing is, is that I knew I was coming home with a box instead of a baby. I had a few days to process that my baby in my belly was going to die in a few days time. I knew I was coming out of that hospital with a box.

I didn’t always know though and that’s what hurts.

I think if you speak to other parents of angel babies they will most likely tell you the same. It’s the build up that’s worse.

I often wonder if it’s a self preservation you know.

My son dying was the worst possible thing that could ever happen to me and the feelings surrounding that are completely indescribable. If I told you it felt like your heart was ripped from your chest, it still isn’t equivalent to what a parent whose baby died in their arms went through.

They say that your brain shields you from traumatic experiences in your life to protect you.

It’s probably why there are still things I don’t remember from the week surrounding the day I had Ethan.

However because it was one of the most traumatic experience of my life, each year sometimes some of those memoires come flooding back.

How can I explain this……

Ok, imagine you are driving along the motorway and as you drive along, you can see in the distance that you are going to crash. You can’t stop it, but you know it will hurt. That fight or flight kicks in, your heart races, you start sweating, maybe you start crying. You imagine the pain and what it’s like. You feel everything. Then it gets harder to breathe and panic sets in as the crash approachs, you keep getting nearer. You are getting more and more upset, the pain you are going to feel you can feel in apprehension, the fear, the loss of control. You can’t stop it from happening. Nothing you do will help this situation.

You take a deep breath. You whisper I love you. Close your eyes and brace yourself. Head swirling and all consumed in thoughts.

Hang on……what happened. Where’s the crash? It’s gone. It’s 6 months later. You know no idea how you got there. Can’t remember much. Over time things start coming back to you, memories and vague recollections.

It’s 6 years down the line now, almost to the day. Every time you drive down that motorway at that time of year, as you get closer to where it happened, those feelings you got that day repeat themselves over and over again.

That’s what it feels like at this time of year. I’m heading down the motorway waiting for it to happen. Those feelings I felt that year are more than a memory, I feel them.

It’s just the build though. On the day I shall remember him and be proud that I was the one that got to be his Mummy. I am one of the few people that got to meet him and hold him. I’m one of the lucky ones. I met an angel. I kissed an angel. I held an angel and I love an angel. I get to call him my son.

Why I can’t leave Ethan at home

If you follow me on Instagram or you read my blog on wheelchair assistance through the airport you will know we recently went away.


Something that might not have crossed your mind but when we go away we have to find someone to look after Ethan.


Ethan, my son who died.


Now let me take you back to 2014 and 2015. The first year after he was born then died.
When we were expecting the arrival and imminent death of our son, we where given a lot of information. “He may be born alive”, “he may not have fully developed we don’t know”, we also got told when we where planning funeral that we may not get many or any ashes from his cremation.

Now as you may or may not be able to imagine when going through all this, delivering your dead baby or a baby that will die, planning your child’s funeral. I can honestly say your head is everywhere. You can barely manage to remember to wash and eat let alone anything else.
We very slowly managed to get back to some sort of a normal life.


We never got a phone call about Ethan’s ashes so we assumed we didn’t have any. I mean he weighed 440g so it was understandable.


However I was on the arc forum website (antenatal results and choices) reading and chatting to other parents and something hit me and I had a huge break down. It was that uncontrollable sob where you can’t breathe. I phoned Ste in a panic thinking oh my god what if I have left him somewhere, I felt lost without him, I felt like a terrible Mum and I felt incomplete.


I got home that day to find my hubby had been phoning round places that day, only to find that we had Ethan’s ashes waiting for us at the funeral home.


Now this all happened in February 2015, 8 months after our son was born and then died.
Eight months without him and feeling empty and lost. That emptiness is the worst feeling ever.
So as you can imagine when we finally got him back we didn’t want to let him go. So Ste and I had a chat and that’s how his ashes came to be put in a bear. So we could keep him and cuddle him.


Those 8 months without him where unbearable. We had painted his nursery and planned his future and the suddenly he was gone eithout a trace. Nothing left behind other than an unworn baby gro.


So you see, the though of leaving our son home alone for more than a day extends to more than “what if someone stole him” it feels like we are leaving him, abandoning him. So you see, if we go away, he comes with us or stay’s with family or his Godmother. My son is loved and will always be cared for and looked after. Even in death.

That’s why he will never be left at home, because it took so long to get him back the thought of leaving him alone at home just fills me with dread and horror.

He’s still part of our family and he will always be looked after.

Much Love

Emma