"But, you're still a Mum"

Before I start, I just want to say that yes, I’m still Freya's Mummy and she’ll always be the girl that made me a Mum. But, when you birth a child and never get to raise them, how’re you supposed to feel like a Mum? That first chance I had to be the best Mummy I could be got ripped away from me at the very last second. I did a full term pregnancy, I gave birth, but I’m now unable to Mother my child. So yes, I’m still a Mum, but I’ve had to figure out a way to be one without my baby being here with me.

The first week after Freya was born, I did feel like a Mum. Those 2 days, especially in the hospital I did, but she was there with us then. I remember messaging my best friend about our day. I told her about how I couldn't sleep so I got Freya out of the cold cot and sat up with her. In that moment I felt like a normal Mummy who was just up at night with her baby.

 Although I didn't get to do everything I wish I could have done with our girl, those 2 days we tried to do everything we could to show her we were always going to be the best we could for her. Planning her funeral made me feel like a Mum, I was doing something for my child. One last thing that was all for her, a day that we could give her that would make her proud of us. But, after that, nothing. 

I thought that was it, that I was no longer a Mummy. She was gone, and so was my title of 'Mummy'. I’d cry to my Mum all the time saying "I just want to be a Mum" when I saw baby announcements of people I knew that were pregnant around the same time as me (and there were a lot). And she would always respond "you’re Freya's Mum". But, I wanted to BE a Mum. Do all the things that new Mum's do, that now I couldn't. All the things that I was seeing all these new Mum's doing with their babies. I had so many plans with Freya already booked in, I really wanted to do everything with her, and make our 9 months of maternity leave together as special as possible. As I've said before, I've always been a planner, so I had it all worked out. 

It really is hard to feel like a Mum when your baby isn't here, but I know now that I am.

I remember when we got home from the hospital, my Mum and Stephen would avoid giving me a brew in any of my 'Mummy' mugs. It wasn't because they didn't think I should use them, they were just trying to protect me at the time. But, I did shout at them after a while, when I started to think of ways that I could feel like a Mum still. "I'm still her Mummy", "I'm still allowed Mummy things" I would say. I think they're scared of giving me a mug that isn't my Mummy one now (sorry guys).

We always try to do things in the house that honor Freya, like the fresh Roses every week that I mentioned previously. Each morning and night we say “good morning” and “good night“ to her. That was something that took me a long time to be able to do, I remember trying to sit there and talk to her one night and I just sobbed. My Mum had to come back round (which she did on many occasions) to calm me down. All I wanted (and still do) was to be able to give my little girl a kiss and cuddle good night and put her to bed, like any parent should get to do with their child. We have little things scattered around that represent her, mainly things that have bunnies on (I’ll tell the story behind the bunnies one day). I've recently started lighting candles for her every night to, I realised it made me feel that little bit calmer as well as doing something for her at the same time.

I try to do things that made other people feel close to Freya. I bought my Mum a small Rose Urn that she has in her house with some of Freya's ashes in, so she’s able to have some of her Granddaughter at home with her. A place where she’d have spent many days making memories with her big cousins.

Giving people something to remember our girl by made me feel like I was telling them that it's okay to talk about her, that I want them to have things in their home that people can see and ask "what's this and whose that baby?". I know that people, especially my Mum, don't want to hide our girl away, and letting them know that it's okay not to, felt like I was in a way, honoring Freya again.

The one thing I do to keep that Mummy and daughter relationship alive for myself, is write to my girl. Every morning, the first thing I do is open my own "Dear Freya Rae" book and write to her. I tell her all about the day before, what me and Daddy have been up to and how Mummy felt that day. If there were any new 'first steps' I'd taken to get me back into the big wide world. I talk about everyone we love and who love her, what her big cousins had been up to and what plans we’d have had if she was here. Writing to Freya was an idea that my Auntie had not long after we lost her, she bought me my first book and it's probably the first note book I’ve ever filled. I've never said this to her, but without her asking and buying me that book, it probably isn't something I’d have even thought about doing. Now, it's the first thing I think about when I wake up so that I can still feel that connection with my girl. Not to make you cry (not that you won't be already, Nicky) if you're reading this, but thank you. You gave me a safe place to write down my thoughts and somewhere to process what had happened, as well as giving me a sense of purpose and a reason to get up in the morning.

Lastly, this. This blog. This is all for Freya. This is me being a Mum to my little girl and doing what we promised her we’d do as we said goodbye, and that was to always keep her memory alive. I don't know how far this is going to go but it helps me to know that I'm doing something for her. Before I started writing this blog, I’d had some of my darkest days since Freya died. I was at a point where I didn't know if I was ever going to get through. Until I woke up one morning and thought, “I need to do something”. I need to do something for her, something that will hopefully make her proud and show the world that bereaved parents have a right to talk about their babies. They should scream their names from the rooftops if they want to. I'm doing all of this in Freya's name.

I’d give anything to be up in the middle of the night doing night feeds, changing all them nappies, watching her hit them milestones, and making endless memories with our girl, but if I can't have her here with me, I’ll do everything I can to make sure she’s never forgotten.

I like to think that when I have a good day (as good as they can be right now), that she’ll be up there, saying "that's my Mummy", and she's proud. Proud of me for doing something that I was scared of. That really gets me through my worst days, and gives me a little push when I need it the most.