My babyπŸ˜‡πŸ˜ͺπŸ’”

Parisa

On 31st August 2018 at 0347am, weighing 7lbs 9oz, my precious, beautiful, incredible daughter, Kiara Amelia was born at home into the most loving and connected family anyone would be blessed to be a part of. Almost the whole family was present; my amazing mum (and personal but unofficial midwife), my proud grandparents and of course my incredible little brother, who was so excited to become an uncle. Everyone was utterly besotted with her the second they set eyes on her cheeky wee face and looked into those stunning navy eyes. Not many people knew I was pregnant and even less know that at around 5am 28th September 2018 at exactly four weeks old I woke up beside my baby, still pink and warm, to a feeling that something wasn't right. I tried waking her but she lay still, I scooped up my usually wrigglly little bug and watched as her limbs flopped around me, I RAN into my gran screaming. I called 999 and shouted at the poor man down the phone I needed an ambulance my baby wasn't well and that's when I heard my gran shout with a fear in her voice I hope I never hear again that "Millie isn't breathing, Parisa!". In that moment my world crumbled around me, I ran to my baby -my brain in overdrive- lay her on the floor and proceeded to preform CPR on my own baby. A baby who just hours before was perfectly healthy and thriving. A baby who met her milestones weeks ahead. A baby who was an absolute pro at breastfeeding within minutes of birth. A baby born with incredible head and neck control and eye coordination, the most alert and content baby I've ever seen. A truly beautiful girl who was living and breathing. Was. The paramedic arrived and took over CPR until the ambulance arrived seconds later at which point he picked up my girl and bolted into the back of the ambulance telling his colleagues they needed to go NOW. I tried running after them, not even realising I was only wearing a pair of pants as I had been feeding her not even two hours earlier. I grabbed the first thing I could see without zips because I knew when my baby woke up all I wanted to do was give her the biggest hug and a zipper would hurt her face. My baby never woke up. When we arrived at the QEUH the staff were already outside waiting, they rushed her in and I sat helplessly as the team of doctors and nurses from the emergency and ICU departments tried everything they could to save my little girl. I could only see her little arm laying still on the bed, looking paler by the minute and every second my heart dropped further into my gut. My parents arrived and shortly after a doctor came over and told us that my darling daughter was gone, there was nothing more they could do. I couldn't believe it, I still can't. The hospital staff took us into a little room and brought Millie in to us. For hours I held her and begged her to wake up "just open your eyes for mummy, c'mon I'm bursting with all of this milk just for you, wake up Millie, I need you to wake up, PLEASE just wake up!" It was heart breaking in a way no-one will ever understand until they feel that loss themselves. We sat, as a family, with her for over 10 hours in that room. Just holding, cuddling, talking and singing to her until they had to take her. Take her to a morgue because my baby wasn't coming home, not alive, not that day, not ever again. That's when the guilt kicked in, what the fuck has just happened? Was it something I did?something I didn't do? Did I roll on her while we slept? I was always so careful while co-sleeping, what went wrong? Why is my baby dead? The blame is endless, as a parent you do anything to protect your child, I felt like a failure, I had failed the most important person in my life, but how? She had a cold virus the weeks before but she was getting better, I had her down at the gp several times and not once was anything serious wrong with her, she was always perfectly healthy and recovering well from her snuffles. Her post mortem revealed nothing out of the ordinary. From what they could tell she was perfect and healthy, nothing had happened, I hadn't fallen asleep on or accidentally smothered her. She just went to sleep and never woke up. What happened to Millie has many names, cot death, SIDS, SUDI, but no cause. It can happen to any baby at any time, no matter how careful a parent is, no matter how closely you follow the guidelines and advice given by midwives and health professionals during and after pregnancy. Sometimes a baby is born an angel and soon after that angel gains their wings. The only thing I ever wanted for my child was for her to be happy and I can take comfort knowing that that's all she ever was, not once did she want for anything. She knew what she wanted and so did I, she hardly cried, she was always cuddled and spoken to, she was fed on demand, she was changed umpteen times a day and then fed some more! She never knew pain and never will, she fell asleep beside her mummy which is exactly where she wanted to be that night and just never woke back up. This week is baby loss awareness week and hits us, as a family, very close to home this year. Instead of watching my little girl grow bigger, stronger and smarter every day, I'm planning and preparing for a funeral less than a week before my 21st that I never imagined in a million years I would attend. Instead of feeding, cuddling and being covered with various disgusting excretions created by such a beautiful being, I will spend my birthday and the rest of my life trying to heal a giant hole that will never go away. I was blessed for 28 truly special days with a wonderful and special little girl who brought my family closer than most could even imagine. I'll always be a mummy, just without a baby in my arms. Millie will always be my first born and I will never forget her, I will never let anyone forget her. I love you Kiara and I'll keep you alive in my heart and soul until we meet again. Goodnight wherever you are, my sweet angel, mummy loves you, always and foreverπŸ’”