I have never talked much about the night she died
The night our baby daughter died
I have never talked much about how I found her
Perhaps because of the feeling of guilt
She was beneath her blanket when I found her
The wrong way round in her cot
I have been told so many times
That is was not my fault
But it never stops me wondering
If really it is
I may not have killed her
But I did not stop her dying
Baby Tilda had a full autopsy
It ruled out suffocation and overheating
It did not say that this was an accidental death
It stated clearly in black and white
That Matilda Mae Henley died from SIDS
I will never ever forget that day
The coronor called.
Cause of Death.
For Miss Matilda Mae.
Age 9 months.
SIDS.
Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.
The death of a seemingly healthy baby in its sleep, due to an apparent spontaneous cessation of breathing.
I remember the relief that day
That our baby had not died because of something we had done
But now I am back to wondering if maybe she did
Though people assure me
And reassure me
That coronors are not allowed to lie
I am sure I will be asking for questions
Until the day I die.
I will never forget the night she died
Finding my daughter
Lifeless
Breathless
But still warm
I screamed for David
He knew from the sound that something was wrong
He came and did what I could not
Which was spring to action
And start doing mouth to mouth
It was hopeless
She was gone
But that is what you do
Your instincts take over
You do what feels most natural to do
You try to save your daughter
The ambulance was called
My mother was there
Thank goodness she remembered where we lived
Because in that moment I had no clue
I called David’s Mum
I think I did
Though I have no recollection of dialling the number
And I screamed the words, ‘She’s dead!’
I think it was an answer phone at first
Or perhaps David’s sister Clare?
In all the screaming
The coming and going
Of police and ambulance crews
Paramedics
Officers
Grandparents
Esther and William did not wake up
They were not disturbed
We were not allowed to see them
The police checked on them whenever we asked
But we were not allowed in to their room
The medics tried to save her
There were needles and bags
Procedures
CPR
They truly tried all they could
I was in a hundred worlds of pain
Asking over and over ‘Is she dead?’
David and I clung to each other
Watching
Hoping
Praying
My Mum was there
It must have been awful for her
I have not yet found the strength to put myself in her shoes
I know she has nightmares still
We all do
Crippling excruciating nightmares
Mum asked the medics to give me something
A sedative? I don’t know
David and I said no
That was not the right thing to do
I needed to be there for Tilda
For David
Esther and William if they woke
David’s parents took us down stairs
Where we waited in the lounge
For the declaration we knew was coming
Our baby girl was dead
A blog post that I read some time after
Confirmed what in my heart I always knew
The medics knew Tilda was dead on arrival
But they had to do what they had to do
For themselves
For protocol
And to remove any doubt from our minds
That everything that could be done had been tried
The medics worked tirelessly with Tilda
The police were so caring and kind
When it was time to take Tilda to the hospital
They invited me to travel in the ambulance with Tilda
I tried
I really tried
I got into the ambulance
But I could not stay
The pain, the burning in my heart
This was not my baby girl
It was, of course, her body
But my daughter was not there
The police offered to drive us in their car
So this is what we did
Driving slowly
Dazed, confused
Behind the ambulance
To walk into the hospital with our little girl
One of the officers drove David’s Mum to the hospital too
So that she was with us and able to take us home
We seemed to be at the hospital for hours
But it was not very long at all
The poor policeman who was with us
Sat with tears and hurt in his eyes
He was a daddy too
It was not a nice night at work for him
He was wonderful with us
And I will never forget the compassion and pain in his eyes
We were allowed to see Tilda one last time
They had laid her out in a Moses basket
She did not look right
She did not look real
Her soul, her spirit were no longer there
But it did not stop me wasting those precious moments
In begging her to wake up
Please Tilda, wake up
I am begging you Baby Tilda, please wake up
Of course she did not
She could not
But I could not believe it
Accept it
That our baby girl was dead
I screamed and I cried
And I begged
Until our time was up and we had to leave
And all too soon we were leaving the hospital
And leaving our baby girl behind
We drove home in Granny’s car
As our baby was wheeled to the mortuary
The physical pain cannot be described
There are just no words
There were no words when we got home
We asked our parents to leave
We wanted to be alone
The two of us
The four of us
No longer the five of us
Somehow we had to find words
We had to find the words to tell Esther and William
That their baby sister had died
We did not sleep that night
It was morning really
And it was not long at all before Esther and William were awake
No one had told us what to do
No one had told us what to say
We had asked everyone to leave
But we knew
As soon as Esther and William were up we knew
We could not do this on our own
We called David’s parents and they knew
They knew we could not do this on our own
And as soon as we wished it
They were there
The Henley’s surrounded us
And for two weeks they carried us
As we struggled to find the words
To make our two and a half year old twins comprehend
What we could not
That our baby daughter
Their baby sister
Had died
I have never talked much about the night she died
The night our baby daughter died
I have never talked much about how I found her
Perhaps because of the feeling of guilt
Perhaps because I cannot remember the details very well
Perhaps because I cannot bear to
Perhaps I do not want to
Perhaps I want to remember the days she lived
Not the night she died
Reading this is almost too much to bear. So brave of you to put it into words. Completely choked right now. xx
Same. Thanks for sharing and I’m so terribly sorry for you and yours.
I am so, so sorry, darling.
Lovely Jennie – I don’t know you, but I couldn’t leave this post unanswered.
You are a brave, brave lady in so many ways, and you have our utmost admiration.
Thinking of you so much at the moment, Chloe xx
Oh Jennie – I am so, so, so sorry for you all. I don’t know what else to say. xxx
Jennie I almost could not read this, but I did because it must have taken a lot from you to be able to write this. Utterly heart breaking, like something out of a horror or a nightmare.
“We drove home in Granny’s car As our baby was wheeled to the mortuary” – I just can’t imagine the pain and anguish you must have been in. I wish this wasn’t so. xxx
Jennie I just don’t know what to say. Reading this years a home right through me. I cannot begin to imagine. I cannot. I am so so sorry xxxxx
I have followed your web site for ages all I can say is inspirational I have tried many of your messy play ideas thank you. Sending you and your family big hugs xxxxx
Tears and a heavy heart. No parent should ever have to deal with that big hugs xxxx
I knew this would be difficult to read and it was. I cannot imagine how difficult it must have been to write. You are so brave. I am so sorry. Xx
Oh Jenny, crying reading this, such unimaginable pain and your loss. Sending all my love xxx
You are so very very brave to write this and allow us all to read it. It’s just so heartbreaking and I hope one day the pain will start to ease.
Sending love and hugs xxx
My stomach churned and flipped whilst reading this. I cannot bear to begin to try and imagine how completely horrifying this was for you all. It is every parents’ worst nightmare.
You are so brave to open up about it all, it is so important to raise awareness. I heard about your angel when it happened, through a mutual friend of ours, and I’m local to you and saw posters for fundraiser you had at Beale Park. I have only recently joined the blogging/twitter world and am glad I can finally pass on my sad condolences on losing your stunningly beautiful girl. She looks so smiley and happy in all your photos, I hope you can take some small comfort in knowing that she will never know pain or sadness, and that you made her short life a happy one. I’m so so sorry for you terrible, irreplaceable loss xxxxx
no words Jennie – just deep sadness and much much love to you all xxx
Dear dear Jennie,
That is the most heartbreaking post. Your heart must be broken into pieces forever. It doesn’t make any sense why this happened to you and no words from me can make anything better. I am so sorry Jennie. I don’t know why this has happened. I am so sorry x
Jennie I cannot find the words to say but I feel I must say something to acknowledge how brave you are for writing this post even though it is so painful for you. I am so very very sorry that Matilda Mae died xxxx
This is probably one of your most heartbreaking posts. I don’t know what to say. What can I say? Nothing. I’m so sorry Jennie xx
This post left me feeling breathless with pain for you Jennie.
It hurts so much to read this, let alone live this nightmare.
Sending so much love, you write beautifully and gracefully.
Tilda will be so proud of her Mummy xxxxxxx
so sorry. Must be so hear re-living it over and over. praying for peace x
Jennie, this post made me feel breathless and so upset reading it, but I wanted to get to the end and leave you a comment because I think you are so incredibly brave for writing it. The words don’t seem real, like something out of a nightmare, yet you have had to endure them. The most unthinkable thing that can happen to a parent. I am so so so so very sorry. xx
Jennie I don’t know what to say. Such a heartbreaking post. Sending you so much love xxxx
sending love to you all xxxx
I am so sorry that you’ve had to go through this horror, that your daughter was stolen from you with such injustice and that, while our lives go on in a way that must very often feel like more stabs in your already broken heart, your own life has also irremediably been stolen from you. This is all so unfair x
Love and peace to you all. I hope it helps to write, so many of us would do anything to stop your suffering if only we could. Your writing shows such grace and strength. Jx
Devastating.xxxxx
The gut-wrenching pain of reading this, it’s literally left me breathless. To have actually lived through it and to re-live it in writing this post… unbearable. There are no words to express how tragic your loss is, how much heartbreak you are forced to endure… unimaginable and so very very unfair xxx
I don’t know what to write, words just don’t seem enough.
I’m thinking of you as I always do everyday & beautiful Matilda Mae x
Love to you all Jennie…this just breaks my heart.
Karin xx
I don’t know what to say Jennie but I couldn’t read this and not say anything. It’s such a painful post to read but I can only imagine how much more painful it was to write. You are so very brave to do it. It’s so so unfair that you had to go through this pain and horror.
Such a heartbreaking post which must have been almost impossible to write and relive such a traumatic time.
Truly beautiful photographs.
Love always,
Wendy
Oh Jennie…. Oh Jennie… I can’t bear it, that you lived through this. I couldn’t bear to read this but I did, because I need to know. How can I be any kind of friend to you if I don’t know? Thank you for sharing. It’s a new level of brave and I think an amazing sign that you now feel able to start to go there a little. I wonder if the counselling is helping you to start to entertain covering these memories in more detail or if it’s just the right time? You are the bravest human being I know, truly. I feel sick to my stomach that this can happen in our Universe. It shouldn’t be. Can’t describe how I highly I think of you that you can not just live through this but create so much of worth and so much that’s positive in the months after. You’re quite simply unbelievable and you deserve all the support and admiration and love that comes your way. x x x x x x x x x x x x
My heart is aching reading this.think of the 5 of you everyday.
As a mummy and a police officer who attends such devastating tragedies this post has touched me beyond words. I can not imagine the pain you have been through. I’m so sorry xxx
Jennie I dont know really what to say but i could not leave without saying something on such a heartbreaking post. All i cn say is i am so very sorry you are such a brave family and such a brave lady thinking of you always , much love claire xxx
No words…. just love to you and your family. I can’t even begin to comprehend the pain this memory holds for you. X
I cannot put into words how reading this post makes me feel. Heart broken is not nearly strong enough. The horror you faced that night is incomprehensible to all but those who’ve known it. I read through tears and I would give anything to turn back the clock for you and your loved ones. You have been so so brave to write your story down xxx
Even imagining this is so frightening and heartbreaking – just terrible that you experienced this. I am glad you are having some counselling as you must be so traumatised by finding her, quite apart from the grief of losing her. Be gentle with yourself xx
I am so sorry for the loss that your whole family has experienced.
I really, really hope that the 4 of you have some very happy times to look forward to and that you are also able to look back fondly amidst all of the heartbreak and hurt you must all be feeling.
All my love. Xx
Love and Strength to you Jennie.
I can not imagine your pain, but admire your courage.
Emma x.
Am so heartbroken for you. I simply cannot imagine how awful that night must have been. You are such a brave person doing all that you do with the loss of Matilda, Sending all my love, and thinking of you all. Xxx
I’ve now read this five times over and still don’t have the words to say how sorry I am or describe how deeply your writing and Tilda’s life have touched my soul. I wish you love and strength Jennie. X
omg this made me cry big hugs to you and your family is all I can say xxx
http://thegoodmotherproject.com
It is such an awful thing to happen! I am grateful that you had such wonderful people around to hold you up in those horror-filled hours and days, even if they could not do anything but be there and hold your hands, show compassion.
Hi Jennie, I have read your blog in pain as I went through the same – the surreal horror and panic of realising your baby has died, and dealing with everything, from hospitals to mortuary and the worst, having to tell others, in my case, having to tell my husband. I know that one of the reasons I am still in so much pain over a year later is because I have a huge sense of guilt, babys don’t just die?? I have asked my paediatrician several times if it was my fault, what could I have done? And more recently how do I know he’s not lying to me? In the end my husband told me, ‘there’s only so many times he can tell you it’s not your fault, he’s only human.’ It wasn’t our fault Jennie, you are a wonderful wonderful mum x
It has taken me a while to read this post as I knew it would be hard, and it was. Of course nowhere near as hard as your pain. You know i am here for you as much as I can be xxx