We would like to thank Christine and her daughter, Lisa, for bravely sharing their story with us. She shares her experience of baby loss as a long-ago bereaved mother and the impact this had on her, her husband and their family. By sharing her story in memory of Billy and their babies, she wants to help others find the courage to talk about their babies and remember them in a way which feels right to them.
My husband, Billy, got together when we were 16 years old and we had our first daughter, Diane, in 1970. She was born perfectly normal and was a healthy baby. It was at this time that we also got married. As you can imagine, we were on top of the moon, we had just got married and had our first child, everything was going so well.
In 1973, I caught for my second pregnancy. I was unwell throughout the pregnancy, but the doctors kept saying it was because it was my second baby. I thought that must be why and carried on as best as I could. When I was around 8 ½ months pregnancy, I came into contact with German Measles and was sent to hospital for an overall check. It was at that moment I found out that my baby had sadly died. I was simply told “no heartbeat” and that I would have to have a natural birth and there wasn’t much more said. I delivered my baby boy on 9 December, but I never got to see him. I asked but I was told to carry on as normal, that I had a child at home that needed me, so I returned home, and it was never spoken about.
In 1974, I became pregnant again. I kept having normal check-ups at the doctors, but I can remember one particular day when the gas man came. He came to service the gas fire but when he had gone, I started to feel unwell. It turned out that he had accidently left one of the valves open and gas was leaking into the house. Billy came home and called the doctor straight away. I was advised to get lots of rest as my blood pressure was quite high. Throughout the rest of the pregnancy, I took it easy, but I started to become unwell again. I was told ‘that’s just normal’. I then started to go into labour and next minute, Billy was called up to make a choice. They asked Billy if he wanted to save me or the baby. It was such a difficult situation for him to be in and it did have a big effect on him.
I had my little girl naturally on 10 December. Her name was Jane, and she lived for three days. We were told that she was born with brain damage and was sent to intensive care. I did get to see her little face whilst I was staying in hospital, but I didn’t know I wasn’t taking her home, because I was unwell. I was finally sent home but I suffered a collapsed and it was during that time Jane died. As you can imagine, we were in such a shock. We thought we would be going back to get her, but it was never explained to us that we wouldn’t be bringing our little girl home.
We weren’t offered any support or anything like that. I had no family myself to support but we did have Billy’s family but they all had their own lives. We were given a birth certificate for Jane because she had to be buried but she was just taken away. We weren’t kept informed or invited to attend anything. We didn’t know where she was taken, and we never really moved on from that.
Her little bedroom was all set-up and ready for her to come home. We had to give up the house and move into a flat because I couldn’t stand being there without her.
In 1978, I found myself pregnant again. A few months into that pregnancy, I found out that I had been exposed to German Measles again whilst sitting in the doctor’s surgery and was sent for tests. It was around the time that it was quite a high risk to pregnancies. A letter was posted through my front door, and I was offered an amniocentesis. We were told that an ambulance would pick us up, take us to train station and another ambulance would be waiting for us at the other side to take us to a hospital in London.
By the time the results came back, I was 36 weeks, and I was told that there was no heartbeat and that I would have to deliver her naturally. It was another baby girl. They said I could carry on to the end of the pregnancy but sadly there is no heartbeat. I had no help to deliver her, and she was born on 8 December. I did ask to see her, and they said no, they just took her away.
Our lives had been completely turned upside down. I couldn’t believe we were here again. I hit rock bottom. I couldn’t see a way forward and I did turn drink for a short time, we still had Diane to think about, but I didn’t know what to do or how to cope with the grief and pain that I was feeling. I just wanted to get through each day.
Billy was a sportsman, and I think that was his way of dealing with things, but he never spoke about it. Looking back now, I do think he needed support but there wasn’t anything back then – not like there is today.
A few years later, we finally had some joy when our baby boy Gavin, was born on 10 December 1981. He was born by emergency caesarean with blood transfusion. I really struggled to accept him, I didn’t think he was mine, especially after everything we had been through. I felt that people were laughing at me having a caesarean and it was decided that the doctor would intervene and look after me for ten days to look after me. I think that post-natal depression isn’t taken serious enough sometimes, it is a big think. I knew that I wasn’t well, I just didn’t realise how unwell I was.
In 1983, I fell pregnant with my daughter, Lisa. I went to the doctors for a routine check-up, but they wanted to send me to the hospital to have an abortion. They said that due to some complications during the pregnancy with Gavin, that I could lose my life if I went ahead with this pregnancy. II knew it was a big risk, but I knew that I couldn’t have an abortion. Lisa wasn’t planned but I got the prize, for some reason it was meant to be.
I do sometimes get asked a lot about why there is such a big age gap between the children. It wasn’t something that I liked to answer because it’s such a painful subject for me. We never really spoke about the babies afterwards, we just learnt to carry on with our lives.
Around eight or nine years ago, Lisa came across a post from Sands promoting the Wave of Light. She asked me why we didn’t light a candle for our babies, and I didn’t know what she was referring to. We never knew anything like this existed and we felt a huge relief – it felt like something was released inside of us because people wanted to honour our babies. We then made sure that we lit the candles every year.
Billy and I went to do our funeral plans a while ago and they asked where we would like donations to go, and we nominated Sands. The lady had never heard of the charity, but we had decided together that we wanted the money to go towards helping other bereaved families like ours that had been affected by stillbirth.
As we lost all of the babies so close to Christmas, I always struggled to get into the spirit. Billy could, he loved Christmas and would decorate the whole house and put lights on the tree outside for our babies, but I always found that time of year difficult and still do. I had my own ways of coping with it but my youngest, Lisa, said that she could always notice a change in me when we approached December. She now realises why but I remember my eldest, Diana, asking every Christmas for that one special gift of a brother or sister. No matter what presents she had, she always wanted a brother and sister. Due to the age gap between Diana and Gavin, she kind of took on that ‘mothering’ role because she really wanted a sibling. The love and bond between my three children is very special.
We had no idea he was doing it, but my grandson Lewis had found two of the babies’ graves. We never knew where they were buried so it was wonderful to finally know where they were. Our little boy was buried with others, but our little girl had her own grave because she lived for three days. Sadly, we never knew where the third baby was, we couldn’t find any records of where they were buried so we still don’t know unfortunately. Billy really wanted to find all three babies.
In March 2020, just before we celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary, Lewis was able to locate the graves through the City Hall, and we all went to see them as a family. It was such a comfort to us because until then, we didn’t have anywhere to go. I believed they were buried in the hospital grounds; we didn’t realise they were in a cemetery and so close together all this time.
That’s when Billy and I started to talk about our babies more with the family. They were never a secret, but they became part of the conversation in our home. They now have little wind chimes and windmills by their graves. Billy, before he became unwell, would tend to the graves, keep them clean and tidy and we would go to the chapel in Norwich Hospital and light a candle for the babies. We also now have a memory tree at home with decorations hanging from it which lights up.
All of this has come to light recently really and we’re still trying to navigate it but now the family can understand why when the Christmas music came on in shops, I would walk out. It has been an incredibly difficult time but now we are able to talk about the babies, which is something we didn’t feel able to do before. Thanks to Lisa for introducing us to Sands, we know that we aren’t alone and there is a whole community out there with a similar experience. I couldn’t have done it without her, she has given me the courage to speak up and has found all these opportunities for us to remember our babies.
Sadly, we lost Billy in August and Lisa is determined to keep her father’s legacy going by remembering the babies. They were a part of us and it’s right that they should be remembered. We attended our first Wave of Light service in Norwich this year and it was the first time that I had seen all the memory boxes that families are given by Sands. I couldn’t believe it, but it was so wonderful to see all the support that is available for bereaved families nowadays.
At Billy’s funeral the three babies were mentioned and recognised and there were people there who had no idea what we had been through. Over £1,200 was raised for Sands by those that attended in memory of Billy and the babies. We were totally blown over by people’s generosity and kindness.
I was asked a couple of times why the money wasn’t donated to cancer research, but I explained that we wanted this money to be used to help raise awareness and help Sands to support other bereaved families who suffer the heartbreak of baby loss. I do find that people don’t want to talk about baby loss but when we went to the chapel, it was hard, especially without Billy, but one of the nurses came over and gave us a little candle for the babies. Lisa told her about her father passing away recently and she came back with a teddy. It was so touching because someone had taken the time to acknowledge them. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to us.
That’s why we are so pleased to have found Sands. We feel that the work the charity does is amazing and the support they provided is so important to families like ours. Reaching out to them has helped me to speak out and I hope that by sharing my story it will help others to do the same. Our journey started back in 1970, and families are still going through the pregnancy and baby loss every day. Every baby is special and shouldn’t be forgotten.
It has taken us a long time to get to this point, but the babies are spoken about more than ever before and for that I am forever grateful to my family and charities like Sands.
Support for you
Here at Sands, we know that talking about pregnancy and baby loss can be difficult. Please know that you are not alone, and there are people who understand and whom you can speak to in confidence. Find all the ways we can offer support.
Sands Helpline
t: 0808 164 3332
e: helpline@sands.org.uk