This is My Story - Alexandra

In this series of personal stories we hear from parents who have suffered pregnancy or baby loss. We hold space for loss and grief, and we remember our babies gone too soon.

In sharing their stories, these parents are beginning to exorcise the triple demons of stigma, silence and ignorance that afflict so many conversations in the perinatal bereavement space.

Parents share their journeys and the lessons they have learned about grief, parenthood, friendship and living after the death of their baby. They tell us how they have changed, who they have become, and what truly matters now.

Baby girl Lucy with her mummy

I found out I was pregnant in June 2023. It was a complete surprise - my husband and I were not thinking about having children at all. We were very excited to become parents and were so prepared to bring our baby home.

We didn’t find out the sex of the baby so it was another exciting element on our journey. I had a very normal, boring, straightforward pregnancy.

I was induced at 40+6 due to pre-labour rupture of membranes. It wasn’t in the ’plan’ but I was happy to go with the recommendations of the doctors and midwives at our small local hospital. As far as inductions go, it was very good. I was able to move around and be in the shower and bouncing on the ball. Things were progressing really well and I was dilating about 1cm per hour.

The labour took an unfortunate turn when baby wasn’t descending and got stuck in the birth canal. The beautiful attending obstetrician made the decision to cut an episiotomy and use the vacuum to aid the delivery.

I had been in active labour for 12 hours by that point, so whatever they had to do, I was fine with.

Baby Lucy was born at 1:38am on 16 February 2024. She was floppy, and immediately taken to the resus bay. I was delirious and exhausted, and couldn’t really understand what was going on. I was saying to my husband, "where is my baby? I want to hold my baby."

We learnt that Lucy had been deprived of oxygen at some point during labour and that her best chance at recovering was being on a cooling mat for 72 hours. This would (hopefully) settle her brain down and minimise any brain damage. Lucy also suffered seizures as a result of the lack of oxygen.

Those first 3 days in the NICU we were not able to hold Lucy. We had to be very quiet in the room to give her brain the best chance at recovering.

All we could focus on was the MRI which, following the conclusion of the therapeutic hypothermia, would tell us the extent of her brain damage. We had discussed with the consultant the likely outcomes and they were not good. My husband and I agreed that we did not want Lucy to live a life where she was unable to be independent and we communicated that to the amazing medical staff in the NICU.

The first time I held Lucy skin to skin after she came off the cooling mat I was completely overwhelmed with love. But my heart was also breaking because a part of me knew it would be fleeting.

She was so warm. Lucy had a shock of black hair, the softest skin, long limbs and a button nose.

Lucy’s death has completely changed my outlook on life. She has made me so much more resilient. I learned that I am surrounded by amazing people who really showed up for us and for Lucy. I believe people are good and generous, and wanted to help.

Lucy taught me that the small, trivial things in life don’t really matter. All that matters is family and friends, and showing up for those that are important.

We have been married for nearly 12 years, and losing Lucy has made our marriage even stronger. If we can get through the death of a child, we can get through anything.

I wish I had known how fragile life is. I think I knew it in theory, but I always thought, "oh that would never happen to me." It can all turn on a dime. I wish I had been more accepting of support groups and other loss parents. Connecting with other parents who have experienced baby loss has been so healing for me, and I wish I had done it sooner.

I will never have pictures or memories of Lucy’s first birthday, graduation, her riding a bike, or on family holidays. Having someone create an artwork of the baby who made me a Mum, without all the medical equipment, is so comforting. My Possum Portrait is something I will keep by my bedside and treasure.

Life is short - hug your people, tell them you love them.I want to honour Lucy by doing all of the things she couldn’t and living the best life I possibly can.

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