When Naomi and her wife became pregnant, they were overjoyed, but at 24 weeks Naomi woke up with a gut feeling that something was wrong. When they arrived at the hospital, they heard the words that caused their worlds to stop: “I’m sorry.” Following Remi's stillbirth, the couple attended their local Sands support group in Derby and found community and great support from everyone there. They share how they are sometimes reluctant to call themselves mothers, but they know that they are mothers in their own way to their lovely daughter.
Please be aware Naomi has chosen to share a picture of baby Remi's hands with her story.
When myself and my wife started the process of IVF, we thought we would have an easy time. We were only unable to have a baby due to us both being women, surely the process of IVF would be simple!
We had all the tests, everything came back fine apart from me having a low ovarian reserve, but we were told we shouldn’t have any problems conceiving through IVF. Our first embryo transfer didn’t work, which knocked me back, as I wasn’t expecting anything to not work during this process, but the second transfer worked and I became pregnant. We were absolutely overjoyed and so excited as first time parents. We bought everything we would need over the next few months, my wife did all the research, and we were so prepared to welcome a baby into our family.
During my pregnancy, I was unwell with sickness and migraines, but every scan that we had reassured us that everything was okay with the baby. Other than me being unwell, it was a simple and straightforward pregnancy.
At 24 weeks, I woke up one morning and felt strange, I think my body was aware that something was wrong.
I had no pain, no symptoms, but a “gut” feeling. This feeling worsened when I couldn’t feel any movement for a couple of hours after I woke up. I did all the things that would usually have made me feel a wiggle, but nothing.
My wife drove us to the community midwife, who used a device to listen for a heartbeat. As we were waiting anxiously, my wife became upset. At this point I was still convinced we would hear the heartbeat. The midwife said not to worry as my placenta was at the front, so it can be hard to hear sometimes. She sent us to the hospital for a scan just in case.
I remember the drive to the hospital was when I started to have some worries, but I still managed to convince myself that everything would be fine.
When we arrived at the hospital, the midwife took us straight to a room for a scan. The doctor moved the screen so we couldn’t see it, and at this point I started to think that they all knew something that we didn’t. And then came the words that caused our worlds to stop: “I’m sorry.” I don’t remember much after that, other than thinking I was dreaming and I would wake up soon and everything would be okay. This wasn’t the case.
We waited for hours at the hospital, at first, I was convinced I was not leaving the hospital with my dead baby still inside of me, but after a few hours, the only place I wanted to be was at home.
We were sent home to return in two days. Those days were a blur, my wife was incredible looking after me, but she was broken too. She was watching her wife going from being pregnant and full of joy, to acting as a coffin for their baby for two days. Our sisters-in-law came to the hospital with us to deliver our baby. I was induced and gave birth nearly 24 hours later to our baby daughter Remi.
Our experience of being on the labour ward was surprisingly a joyful one.
The midwives were absolutely incredible. We could hear call alarms going off regularly, they were clearly extremely busy, but whenever anyone came into our room, it was like nothing else existed. We had their full attention and care, which allowed us to experience some joy when our daughter was born. We cannot thank the staff on the labour ward enough for allowing us that.
We also received a memory box from a charity which gave us the opportunity to have pictures of Remi and her hand and footprints which are now our treasured possessions.
Over the next weeks, myself and my wife got by with the help from each other, family and friends.
My wife was allowed two weeks paternity leave, and then she was straight back to work.
I still worry now that my wife doesn’t know where she fits in as a bereaved mother. As the mother who didn’t carry our baby, she doesn’t quite fit into the bereaved mother role, yet she also doesn’t fit into the bereaved father’s groups and support. Of course, I see her as a mother as much as I was to Remi, but in terms of community and support groups, there is nothing specific to her where she fits in.
We attended our local Sands support group in Derby and found community and great support from everyone there.
I can relate to the mothers who have lost children, as can my wife to some degree, but we have yet to meet in person anyone in the same position as her.
We are so glad for the support we have received from many different places. It had been a very hard journey, but we are journeying it together.
Mostly, I am so grateful to my wife, she did not need to carry our baby to be a mother. She became a mother the moment I was pregnant. She looked after me, made sure I ate well, made sure I was staying healthy, which made sure Remi was healthy too. She did not need to carry our baby to be her mother.
We never found out why Remi died. However, we will forever be glad for the joy that she brought us throughout my pregnancy. We are sometimes reluctant to call ourselves mothers, but I know that we are mothers in our own way to our lovely daughter Remi, and that will always be the case.
