This year marks ten years since my granddaughter, Lottie, was stillborn. It was a devastating time for our family, but I was incredibly grateful for the support I received — not just from friends and family, but also from my colleagues and employers in the NHS, who were truly compassionate. 

About two years after we lost Lottie, I reached out to my local Sands Group in East Lincolnshire. That connection meant so much. Two years after that, I trained to become a Sands befriender, and I now focus on supporting others who are facing similar grief. I also volunteer as a hospital liaison, helping to ensure that families get the care and understanding they need right from the start. 

 

I remember, early on, attending a Sands Group and feeling like a bit of a fraud — like my grief couldn’t possibly compare to what parents go through. But over time, I realised that grief as a grandparent is still deeply real and valid. 

 

Someone once told me that seeing me at a group meeting made them feel like they could encourage their mum to also attend for support, and that really stayed with me. It reminded me of the importance of simply showing up. 

That first Christmas after we lost Lottie, I bought my daughter a white polar bear ornament in her memory. Every year since, I’ve knitted a little scarf in a different colour for it. That bear has become such a special part of our decorations — it sits proudly among everything else, and it’s our quiet way of remembering Lottie and keeping her close.