I’ve never liked New Year’s Eve. Like pretty much everyone, I enjoy fun and a good time, but I hate organised fun and I can’t stand it when there’s pressure to be happy and have a #amazingtime, it brings out my grinch. Added to the ridiculous prices and horrible overcrowding…let’s just say NYE has never been my scene. I don’t do new year’s resolutions, I find they tend to set me up to fail. But I do love a good reflection session, and that’s what you’re going to get in this post.
Since we lost Kaitlyn, I’ve found new year to be very difficult, especially that first year. Just six weeks after Kaitlyn had died, we moved into a new year and I simply was not ready to leave 2018 behind, the year that I became pregnant, grew my baby and lost her again. But time stands still for no woman. I have learnt that Kaitlyn stays in our hearts and our family no matter what year we are in. I’ve learnt that she stays in the hearts of those close to us, our family and amazing friends, and people that read this blog, and for that I am so grateful. But at the same time I feel so sad seeing in yet another year that Kaitlyn should have been here for but isn’t.
So many people have called 2020 a write off, and I understand why. It’s been one hell of a year. People I love have lost people they love, others have fought hard against a virus that has left them with long term problems. Life as we know it has changed. Sometimes I think the 18 months that came before prepared me better for this – losing my social life, my stability, my very self, these things all happened to me long before 2020. This year has not been my worst year by quite a long way. And new normals? Yes very practised at new normals, thanks…But then sometimes my resilience deserts me and I think “how many “new normals” can I really handle in such a short space of time?!” And it’s not just Covid either. The initial findings of the report into maternity failings at Shrewsbury and Telford are horrifying and will stay with me for a long time. Miscarriage has been talked about more openly by more people in high profile roles than I remember happening before. My heart goes out to anyone that lost a baby during Covid; it’s a horrendous experience on its own, without the awful restrictions that a pandemic brings.
For our family it’s been one hell of a year too. The biggest reason it has been far from a write off for us was the arrival of our beautiful K, who brings light, joy, chaos, love, sleeplessness and wonder into our lives every day. I’ve been two different people during this year – in the first half my mental health was in a dark pit and I could hardly breathe, all the time, day or night. Frankly it was absolutely bloody awful and I wouldn’t wish that level of anxiety and trauma trigger on anyone. Was it worth it? Of course yes, a resounding yes, a thousand times yes and I’d do it all again to get my boy. But I’m not sorry to see the back of the mental health impact of pregnancy after loss during a massive pandemic. Yes I’m exhausted right now, hardly sleeping and constantly worrying if I’m doing the best I can for my children when they can’t see their friends, do their clubs, even meet other people in K’s case. But I can breathe and laugh and drink and eat treats and relax and drink herbal tea and have a bath and play and…actually imagine a future, even with Covid. All the things that might sound so banal and fundamental but that I was too terrified do for 8 months. Six months after K’s birth I still don’t take for granted what it really feels like to not carry a tonne of rocks on my back all the time.
It’s been one hell of a year for M too. As Kaitlyn’s parents, S and I have of course “walked a journey” together, so to speak. But M has absolutely walked that journey too. Our bond is incredibly special and she amazes me every day. She became a big sister to a living sibling and she is absolutely wonderful at it, she steps in and calms him when I’m in the middle of something, fetches and carries things, waits patiently when I can’t get to her straight away. And K adores her, both their faces light up when they see each other and their bond is wonderful to see. M often tells me that she wishes Kaitlyn were here to join in the fun. Her understanding of death is developing as she gets older and I always have a careful eye on how she chooses to handle her emotions – sometimes by speaking, sometimes by going off privately for some down time. She started school and I’m so proud of the way she’s handling the transition, especially after 6 months at home with us and a new baby arriving. I have been doing a photo journal and adding a photo every day since lockdown 1 started. When I look through them I can really see the plus side of the precious time we’ve had together. Of course I wish it hadn’t come at the cost that it has to so many people, in terms of physical health, mental health and financial security. I’m not going to sit here and wax lyrical about the benefits of lockdown when so many have struggled. I’m just grateful that M and I were able to make the most of that time together, and having S at home with us rather than off commuting every day.
For Kaitlyn’s legacy, this year has been a strange one. I have been caught in between wanting to set the world on fire in her name and not having the energy to lift my head off the metaphorical pillow. Baby Loss Awareness week was exceptionally difficult this week; I did some things I was proud of in Kaitlyn’s name, such as the Sands steps challenge, singing at the local remembrance service, recording Kaitlyn’s story for Naya’s Wish and recording information about the Flutterbyes Bereavement group and Kaity bear weighted memory bears. But mostly I felt furious and frustrated the whole week, as in amongst Covid it felt like the walls of our echo chamber closed in around us, especially with baby loss charities struggling for funds and to have a voice amongst the constant Covid news. I desperately want to do some work around maternity safety and have no idea where to start. But there are plans afoot for our local Bereavement support services that I have worked on with fellow dedicated parents and professionals, and that will yield some important work in 2021. Above all, we carry our Kaitlyn with us every day. Forever our middle child, our second of three, our perfect, much-loved girl 💜
So as we enter 2021, my first few days will be in limbo until we pass the anniversary of Kaitlyn’s cremation on 4th January. For the rest of the year I hope that the vaccine is rolled out quickly and works and we can all start to move forward, as much as possible. If you’ve read my blog for long you’ll know I don’t do blind optimism. You’ll also know I have a complicated relationship with the Universe. When the whole of social media was full of “wow it’s 2020!” posts last year I quietly panicked, wishing people would stop tempting fate…of course my logical brain knows that has nothing to do with where we are now. But just to be safe, I’m going to quietly wish you a safe, healthy and peaceful New Year, slip off to bed after the baby’s late evening feed and hide away from social media until the new year noise has quietened.
With all my love for a more hopeful year ahead x
A Keepsake for Kaitlyn 