My Lost Boy - Reggie Edward Gill

I will try to keep this as brief as I can and spare you any of the gory details of Reggies fate - I want to focus on his loss.

June 24th - A date I would give anything to forget, but will desperately hold on to and remember until my dying day.

For us up until this date - well actually a few days before really life for us as a trio along with our sidekick Neville the Frenchie (coz ya know - he’s part of the family too!) life was pretty much perfect.

Yeah of course we had the usual wanting to buy a house, change career, maybe win the lottery discussions but as a family we were just fine....not a care in the World.

Even with this bastard COVID-19 that has pretty much screwed everyone over in 2020 as we couldn’t now buy that house, or take that holiday we were all still healthy and in love and that’s all that mattered really wasn’t it?

There was one thing that was happening that we could look forward to and get excited about - we were having another baby, a brother/sister that Jaxon so desperately longed for.

Christmas this year was definitely going to be different - a baby due December 13th how exciting!

But hold on a minute ‘What if I am in hospital over Christmas? I can’t not be at home over Christmas, Jaxon needs me at home for Christmas! What if my waters break early again? I need to be prepared and maybe start my Christmas shopping earlier this year and have it all wrapped just incase! Where will Jaxon stay if I have to stay in again? Who will have Neville (he isn’t your normal dog - he’s a psycho of a dog that will run rings around you - literally.)

You see our first born Jaxon was due December 2nd 2012 - however he decided he would move our meeting forward just a little bit and we ended up welcoming him into the World on October 31st 2012 at 7.21am via C-Section.

He was breech and I had a hospital appointment booked for the afternoon of October 31st to try and turn him ready for labour. I guess he didn’t fancy being poked and prodded that day so he thought he would make his own grand entrance in his own way.

I had been to Rugby to visit my Sister for the day, pumpkin carving with my Niece and Nephew.

I kept having twinges....nothing painful but it sometimes felt like he was almost trying to scratch his way out. My niece told me I should sit down and eat some Haribo because she could see my babies head. (She most definitely couldn’t!)

1. He was tucked firmly away inside me tummy still

2. I had leggings on!

We laughed about how weird she was, I ate the handful of Haribo she stuffed in my mouth and after a lovely day with the kids about 7.30pm I went home back to London.

Every bump in the road began to hurt me down there 👇🏼 but then I was heavily pregnant so what else was i to expect?

Once home we (myself and Louis - he’s my amazing husband I have mentioned previously)

settled down on the sofa (a corner sofa I often got stuck on because I was too heavy to get myself off it) and watched crap on tv until we fell asleep.

Around 2.20am I woke up with what felt like the sound of running water and a warm feeling in my really sexy leopard print pyjama bottoms (a gift from the girls I worked with at the time - thanks girls!)

I heard the sound of my waters breaking in my sleep - I won’t ever be able to describe it but if your waters have broke in this way then you may just get what I am talking about.

My first thought was that I had pissed myself! It had finally happened to me...my boss at the time had kept saying I would sheeeet and piss myself (he’s French) he was right bloody hell I’ve only gone and done it! Thanks Lolo!

Now remember me talking about the sofa being a corner sofa? So....the positions myself and Louis had fallen asleep in meant that we were pretty close. OH MY GOD....NOT ONLY HAVE I PISSED MYSELF. I HAVE DONE IT ON MY HUSBAND!!!!!

So I quickly stand up but as I do the gush of my waters breaking pull my pyjama bottoms down! I woke a dazed and confused Louis up and told him this is it...our baby was on the way.

He went and got himself ready, called my Dad etc and then we let the hospital know we were on our way.

It was time to go meet our son. (And no I didn’t actually piss myself or on my husband....but the water didn’t stop trickling out all the way to the hospital.)

Once arrived I was monitored, Jaxons feet were in my pelvis.

Time ticked by and I was getting contractions etc, a little bit of gas and air I was 8cm dilated. Jax was still breech I could deliver him naturally but there was a high risk both of his shoulders would be dislocated in the process so a C-section would be the safest method of delivery for him.

So while the anaesthetist does his bit with me Louis is off getting his scrubs on.

He walks back in the room looking like an extra from Casualty (the Brummie in him would probably rather I said an extra from Doctors!) we laughed and joked. I took photos of him posing in his scrubs and then I was taken down to theatre.

7.21am Jaxon was placed onto my chest and I fell instantly in love. He weighed 6lb 11oz and had such an angry little face as if we had disturbed him! I ended up staying in hospital for 5 days as we established breast feeding, oh and the Registrar who was to send us home a couple of days earlier had an asthma attack in the lift so there was no one else to take over and discharge mums and babies so we ended up staying a little bit longer.

I hated it at the time but I had the best view looking out of my window - Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament directly across, the river just below me. I loved cuddling my son and watching the busyness of London slowing down the later it got. The twinkling of lights reflecting off the water of the Thames and the little boats making their way past. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t getting any sleep - I had a perfect view and cuddles with my son.

It was just a shame that each night Louis had to leave at 8pm. (I think they have changed that rule now and dads can stay.)

Fast forward to June 2020 and the early meeting with Jaxons sibling couldn’t have been more different if it tried.

I would give anything to remember it with memories that made me smile just as Jaxons birth did. Instead it was a living nightmare and one that I hope no other mother ever has to go through - but I know sadly will.

The more I scoured the net looking for a reason as to why the events of that fateful night happened to me the more women I had come across that it had also suffered a loss in a similar way.

I found these women!on forums, and private groups on social media platforms.

Millions of women around the World have gone through the process of loss of a child - no matter how far along gestation was, how old the child was at passing they have still left behind a massive hole in someone’s heart and that massive black cloud of grief attempts to hang over their heads from that point in time for the rest of their lives. There ain’t no getting away from it. Life has changed forever and grief is something you have to live with until your dying day.

We didn’t tell anyone Jaxon was getting a sibling until after our 12 week scan. Why? Well this is when the ‘danger’ zone becomes less of a danger so to speak. You hit 13 weeks and you are safe! You know you are getting a baby so you plan your baby shower, decide what pram to buy, think about the changes that will happen once you bring baby home.

Sadly there is no safe zone....there is no guarantee that you will be bringing a baby home. I had no idea until I lost Reggie that 1 in 4 pregnancies result in loss.

While yes they do occur during the first 12 weeks sadly a lot of them also occur during the 2nd trimester.....and the 3rd....and at birth.....and also shortly after.

So why are we not aware of this?

Is it because we don’t want to put women off from having babies so we don’t speak about it? Nope you hear stories of how painful birth is it’s ripped so and so a new one, she had to have stitches in her Hoo ha yet it didn’t put anyone off so that can’t be it.

Death of babies and children is not the correct order of life really is it? No one expects a funeral for a tiny person over an adult that may have lived a full life. However it happens....everyday yet is so taboo it is never spoken about.

Then there are women who have lost babies before they have reached the 9 months tummy time they should have done....yet often no one will really be aware of what someone has lost because they don’t speak about it. They can’t speak out about it for fear of making people feel uncomfortable.

No one wants to hear of a woman having a ‘miscarriage’ it’s just a heavy period isn’t it?! Yuk...no thank you, you can keep that information to yourself, it’s pretty gross and I’m sure you will be back to normal in a couple of weeks.

WRONG

I hate the word miscarriage. I hate it. Do you know what’s worse than the word miscarriage in reference to the baby you have just lost? Try this one instead ‘retained products of conception’ yup....that’s lovely isn’t it.

As I write this today, I am actually laying in bed as I have done for the past hour and a half trying to stall getting up as today I am attending a funeral.

The funeral is that of my ‘retained products of conception.’

Take a moment to let that sink in for while.

Imagine you are having a funeral for an elderly member of the family and they are referred to as a ‘no longer required bag of bones’ the heartbreak that would surround that term would be unimaginable. So why is it acceptable to treat some losses in this way?

Today is the day of my baby boys Cremation and I am dreading it.

I don’t want to see his tiny coffin and know that he is just inside that box and I can’t hold him, but at the same time I know that when I do see it all I am going to want to do is pick it up, cradle it and kiss it.

It’s been a tough few weeks since losing Reggie but slowly I getting there. Today will no doubt set me back just a few steps.

The night I lost Reggie I had him (partly) on the toilet at home.

I had been in and out of the EPU for days running. With blood loss, unusual discharge (yep gross but it happened) and finally my waters breaking.

Yet each time I was sent home...even when it was clear my waters had broken.

I won’t divulge too much information in regard to the (lack of) care I received as I am taking further action.

But the night I was admitted back to that same ward via Ambulance I went through hours of labour. I experienced dilation and contractions leading up to the delivery of my baby and the placenta as you would with a full term labour. I even had some gas and air too! What I didn’t get was to bring my baby home.

Now I mentioned I had him partly at home in my bathroom. You see he actually got stuck.

So I had to lay waiting for just over an hour for the Ambulance to get to me being able to touch the part of my son that was exposed. I could feel him yet I couldn’t get the rest of him out.

When I delivered fully it was in a shitty hospital toilet into a bedpan.

Not only did I deliver my son in the shittiest of ways it wasn’t over because I still had to deliver the placenta. It’s like giving birth....all over again contractions and all!

The difference was that while waiting for the placenta I bled so badly my husband was now passing me bedpans that I was filling with blood.

If I didn’t think he was a keeper then I most certainly do now!

I missed an operation and a blood transfusion by the skin of my teeth but instead was given an Iron transfusion to kick start blood making.

I lost my son Reggie at 15+4 weeks.

As he was (just) under 16 weeks gestation he is not considered viable.

If he had been born breathing it was likely there would be nothing they could do to keep him alive, so they don’t try.

Now Reggie was born sleeping but when we were given the opportunity to see him I didn’t think I would want to at first. The images I had of him were not the nicest but myself and Louis decided we would.

Now at this point in time Reggie in a medical term is a ‘product of conception’ so we was not expecting to be offered a funeral for him.

The bereavement midwives don’t come round to see you because your baby is below that 16 week threshold yet you can plan a funeral for them?!

So you go through the process of not only giving birth as a full term Mother would, having funeral arrangements made for this little person (who might I add was a perfectly formed baby - just a tiny version) in the same way you would an elderly person. Yet there can be no birth certificate/death certificate because medically your baby wasn’t at the ‘viable’ stage and you don’t get access to any midwife bereavement team. However you do get handed a baby loss leaflet and a leaflet for SANDS. So you can choose if you are fragile enough to want to reach out to someone.

So now maybe you can sort of understand why I really dislike the term ‘Miscarriage.’

I never had a miscarriage I suffered a loss, a loss that has changed my families lives forever.

I will always speak of my son Reggie - In Neverland chasing adventures instead of being here chasing the dog.

He did happen and he will forever be acknowledged and by doing so I hope that this is what helps me move forward.

You don’t move on, it’s impossible to move on but speak about him, don’t be afraid to say his name when you see me.

I hope that if loss has affected you in any way shape or form you too are able to speak openly about it and know that you are always welcome to speak to me about anything. I will be a listening ear. I don’t have all the answers, but I promise I will always listen.

Together we need to erase the Stigma around this type of loss.

Reggie is my lost boy a lost boy in Neverland....he isn’t lost because I refuse to speak about him.

Until next time maybe,

Michelle xXx