When Jessica couldn’t feel her baby’s movements she went to hospital and it was there at 31 weeks pregnant, she was told her baby boy Jacob had no heartbeat. Because of COVID her husband Jake wasn’t with her, but he was called in and told their baby had died. That first night Jessica couldn’t sleep and googled, “what happens when your baby dies inside you?” That’s when she learnt she was having a stillbirth.
Four and a half years after Jacob's death, she attends Sands meetings which give her a chance to validate feelings that can sometimes feel out of place in everyday life. At Sands meetings she doesn’t have to wear the mask that she often does in normal life. She can simply be Jacob's mum, speak about him freely, and know that everyone in the room understands.
She also met with a Sands Befriender during her pregnancy after loss. Speaking to someone who truly understood the fear and anxiety of expecting another baby after stillbirth made her feel less alone. She is now training to be a Sands Befriender herself.
My husband, Jake, and I had been together for 11 years when we decided to start a family. We were overjoyed (and nervous) when we got pregnant quickly. My pregnancy was low risk, and everything seemed ‘normal’.
As a dentist, I was worried about COVID, so I planned to start maternity leave early. Unfortunately, I caught COVID two weeks before my leave began. My symptoms were mild, and I felt okay overall.
The day after finishing isolation, I noticed the baby’s movements weren’t strong, but he’d had quiet days before. I didn’t think COVID could affect pregnancy, probably because I hadn’t heard that it could. That evening Jake was at a Christmas party and after midnight I felt a kick. I now know that was Jacob’s last. I believe he waited for his daddy to come home for one final goodbye.
The next morning I didn’t feel any movements so we went to the hospital. Jake couldn’t come in because of COVID. Two midwives couldn’t find the heartbeat with the Doppler, so they took me to the ultrasound room. Two doctors checked and strangely, I still wasn’t worried. The senior doctor told me, “Unfortunately, there is no heartbeat.” I was 31 weeks pregnant. I was in shock and didn’t understand. They called Jake in, and the doctor told him our baby had died. I wanted to know what was next and how to end this nightmare, but I didn’t realise the nightmare never really ends when your baby dies.
A consultant confirmed Jacob had died and said they’d seen COVID cause pregnancy losses like this. I took a tablet to start the induction and we were told to return in two days to give birth. We hadn’t done antenatal classes yet so I had no idea what to expect. In my mind I was stepping into a horror film where I would give birth to death. I was terrified I would die too, like my baby had.
The next two days were a blur. We told family and friends and everyone was heartbroken. That first night I couldn’t sleep and googled, “what happens when your baby dies inside you?” That’s when I learned I was having a stillbirth. I started reading stillbirth stories. It finally hit me and that’s when the uncontrollable crying started.
On Tuesday 14th December 2021 we went to the hospital and were placed in the Butterfly Suite. My parents were allowed to be with us. Around 5pm they began the induction and Jacob was born at 10.33pm. I feel like Jacob wanted to help his mummy because the birth was quick and relatively easy. He was born at 31 weeks and two days, weighing 1,550 grams (3 pounds, 6 ounces), and measuring 45cm long. His foot length matched a 34 week old!
Jacob was wrapped in a personalised blanket we’d brought and they placed him in my arms. I was in awe. He was perfect. All I could do was stare at my beautiful, sleeping angel. At one point, the midwife said, “Oops, he’s done a little poo.” For a second, I thought maybe they’d gotten it wrong and he was alive. I put a nappy on him; the first time I’d ever done that. I was nervous and scared I’d hurt him. We dressed him in a newborn babygro, which was too big, so we rolled up the sleeves.
We spent several hours with Jacob that night and more the next day. We took many photos and videos which are so precious to me. We received a Simba memory box and made handprints, footprints and took a lock of his hair. A priest came and gave him a blessing. Those hours with Jacob are the most precious time of my life. Now, I look back at that time with joy because it’s when I met my son.
We were given a Sands booklet in hospital while I was giving birth to Jacob. At the time, everything felt overwhelming but in the weeks and months afterwards I found myself going back to it and the information it contained.
Leaving the hospital without Jacob felt so wrong. Instead of carrying my baby out, I held his memory box. Walking outside into the real world felt wrong too, like life shouldn’t just go on when mine had shattered.
The days that followed were a blur. I had a postpartum body but no baby. I visited Jacob in the mortuary several times. Holding him, reading to him, and singing to him were more treasured moments. But as he began to deteriorate, I had to make the heartbreaking decision to stop going.
Jacob’s funeral was six weeks later with just close family. It felt final but I was glad to lay him to rest and have a place to visit. One way I mother Jacob now is by caring for his grave.
We chose a full postmortem to understand what had happened. Jacob was perfect, but COVID had infected my placenta, triggering an immune reaction called chronic histiocytic intervillositis (CHI). This caused the placenta to stop functioning properly and cut off Jacob’s blood supply. I feel guilty my body couldn’t protect him.
Since Jacob died my love for him has only grown. I keep his mementos around the house and in the wear jewellery I wear. I love being reminded of him and I’m proud to be his mummy. Jacob will always be missing from family photos and events but he’s our firstborn and a cherished part of our family. We’ll always wonder what he would have been like. Instead, he lives in Heaven, watching over us.
I want to keep Jacob’s memory alive by talking about him and fundraising in his honour. He will forever be in our hearts and minds. We will grieve him forever because we will love him forever.
Jacob now has a baby sister and a baby brother. Pregnancy after loss is hard, you never truly believe you’ll bring a living baby home. Jacob’s siblings will always know about him. We will always talk about our precious boy.
I had counselling with Petals after Jacob died while my partner chose not to. When I became pregnant again I had a second course of Petals counselling during my pregnancy after loss. Even now, I still have occasional private sessions with my Petals counsellor. I call it my "Jacob time" – a space where I can talk about him openly and honestly without feeling like I need to protect other people's feelings or worry that I've spoken about him too much. As time goes on, opportunities to talk about Jacob become fewer and further between in everyday life, so having that dedicated space has been invaluable.
I attended a couple of Sands support meetings soon after Jacob died but then I became pregnant quite quickly and didn't feel able to attend while I was pregnant. Since then, I have had two more children and now, four and a half years after Jacob's death, I regularly attend Sands meetings again and am training to become a Sands Befriender myself.
Sands meetings give me something that is difficult to find anywhere else. Being surrounded by people who truly understand validates feelings that can sometimes feel out of place in everyday life, where there can be an expectation that I should have "moved on" by now. I know I will never move on from Jacob; instead, I have learned to move forward with him as part of me. At Sands I don't have to wear the mask that I often do in my normal life. I can simply be Jacob's mum, speak about him freely, and know that everyone in the room understands.
I also met with a Sands Befriender during my pregnancy after loss, which was incredibly reassuring. Speaking to someone who truly understood the fear and anxiety of expecting another baby after stillbirth made me feel less alone.
The first night we found out Jacob had died, I also found myself reading stillbirth stories on the Tommy’s website. In that moment, I was still in shock and not really able to process what was happening, but reading those stories helped me realise the reality of what was happening, when everything still felt unreal.
