When you have seen a baby dead in a cot
It is hard to put another baby in one
When you have seen your daughter dead in her cot
It is hard to put another of your daughters in one
How am I to look in a cot at a sleeping Bea
And not see a dead Matilda Mae?
It is not the same cot
It is a different one
But I still cannot bear to use it
I cannot even think how to start
The last time I saw Tilda alive
I fed her to sleep
I laid her in her cot
And kissed her goodnight
The next time I saw her she was dead
Laying Bea down in a cot
Is not a small thing to do
It is not an easy thing to do
And I have no idea how to even begin
I have no clue what we should do
When Tilda died
I stored all her belongings in her cot
I used to sit beside it
For hours
Talking to her
Crying for her
Missing her
I could not bear for the cot to be taken down
Beside the cot was a light
The light I turned on
To see her when she died
When I found her
A light I could not bear to switch off
A light that shone
Until I was ready to be the one to turn it off
It took me 18 days
Until the day I tried and failed to say goodbye
I turned her light off on that day
It was 17 months before David and I slept in our room again
Tilda’s room
17 months sleeping on the lounge floor
There is still no cot in that room
A Snuzpod yes
A cot no
How can we have a cot in there again?
David has worked so hard to make our room a peaceful place to be
But it is still the room where our baby died
It is still the room where I found her
How can we have a cot again?
We do have a cot
It is Esther’s old cot
It cradled her safely for over three years
It could do the same for Bea
If I ever do more than stare at it
With Bea safe in my arms
In 10 days time
Bea will be 10 months old
Apart from snippets of naps
In the buggy or car
Some snatched sleep with Daddy
Rainbow Baby Bea
Sleeps in my arms
I eat one handed as her head rests on my left hand
I blog one handed
I do everything with my giant little baby
In my arms
And though it is good for my head and my heart
Holding her close
Feeling her breathe
Keeping her safe
It is ruining my back
It means I cannot do anything
While Bea is sleeping
Bea is not a dainty girl
She is a heavy baby
98th centile heavy
But she gives the greatest cuddles
And I cannot bear to put her down
I don’t know how to put my baby down
At the end of the night
She comes to bed with me
By body wraps round in a protective c
A natural position for Bea and me
The cot is in the lounge
The plan is for her to sleep there
In the evenings
With David and I close by
Watching the rise and fall of each breath
But I can’t do it
I don’t know how to do it
I don’t know how to put my baby down
So the cot remains empty
And Bea sleeps soundly in my arms
Beside the empty cot
Have you thought about a mattress on the floor for Bea? Then she isn’t in a cot, and it will give your back a break? there are no easy answers here though.
Much love
This breaks my heart to read it and only try to imagine how you feel.
I was gonna try and say something that may make you feel better, but I couldn’t because I know nothing will, so instead just know that our thoughts are with you and always will be.
L
Our child had a few apnoea episodes and stopped breathing when she was a tiny baby. So for 3 years, we had a breathing monitor in her cot. It saved my sanity. I hope you will consider it for Bea.
My heart breaks for you. Have you ever thought about baby wearing during the day to free your hands up?
Jennie, this just breaks my heart. The smallest things that i take for granted, like putting my baby to bed, has such an understandable impact on your life. The cot wasn’t the thing that took baby Matilda Mae, it was the place you found her, so it’s understandable you are not at ease. Give yourself small goals if you want to get Bea into the cot. Have the baby monitor mat in the cot (i use Angel Care – it’s brilliant!) and place her in the cot, maybe for a minute, you can stay with her at all times, read her a story, let her get used to the cot whilst you do at the same time. Try not to fear the cot hun, you need to look after yourself and you don’t want to cause serious damage to your back. Thinking of you as always x
This post literally took my breath away, Jennie, and I had to bite my lip so as not to let the tears stream in the office. I can’t imagine the horror of turning on that light, only to see what had happened.
We’ve never put the twins to sleep in a cot, either. They sleep with us, in our arms. We’ve never experienced a loss but they are so precious to us, it’s frightening to switch off from them at night. We don’t sleep very well with them cuddled up on us but I don’t think that we would sleep well if we couldn’t feel them breathing, either.
Hard. Even without loss it’s hard, so I can’t imagine what it’s like for you. I don’t have any advice, I’m sorry, I just want to hug you. x
This must be so hard for you, emotionally it must be such a hard thing to try and overcome, physically it must be so draining on you too. Would she fall asleep on a mattress (or something similar) near to you at night, if the cot is too much for you both at the moment it might be a slight transition…at least it would give you a slight break but she would still be close by xx
I found our little boy one terrible morning in 2011.I could not have managed next time round if i didn’t have a apnea alarm.It didn’t stop the every 10 minute checks on her but the beep of every breath helped so much.
My nephew lost his son to SIDS and the lullaby trust have given him a breathing monitor that is attached to their new baby 24/7 and they have been taught resuscitation incase the alarm on the monitor ever goes off.Thinking of you xxx
A beautiful and heartbreaking post – try to stay strong x