What Happened Next...

The first week after returning home from hospital is just a blur. We don't count it as part of the time we've been grieving. It was the time we had to plan our little girl's funeral and tell the world what had happened. We didn't really have time to stop and take in what we’d just been through, never mind the fact that I was also recovering from giving birth.

During the first week we were able to visit Freya at the funeral home each day, we’d go and see our girl, read to her and have cuddles as a family whilst we could. We chose the book "Guess How Much I Love You" to read to her. My Mum’s had a vase made for us now, in the shape of a book with the title of our special book on, it's beautiful. Fresh Roses (Freya's birth flower) are put in there each week for our girl.

We gave Freya some of her things to keep with her, along with a necklace that Stephen had bought for me for Christmas a couple of years ago, it had our names on and the date we made our relationship 'official'. We also gave her a photo of the three of us, so she’d always have her Mummy and Daddy by her side.

When I was pregnant with Freya, I shared a lot of my journey on Social Media, scan photos, bump photos and all the date days we were squeezing in before we didn't have as much time to do them anymore. Looking back now, I wish I hadn't. 

We both knew that when we got home we had to somehow, announce our daughter’s birth and death at the same time to everyone we know. The last thing I wanted was messages asking if she’d arrived yet, so we did it, we posted the news that nobody should ever have to post. We told the world that our world had just fallen apart. 

After we did it, we switched our phones to ‘Do Not Disturb’ and turned off all notifications on Instagram and Facebook. We’d look at them when we felt ready to. I actually still don't think Stephen has ever gone through the comments. 

The messages came flooding in, from friends, work colleagues (old and new), and family members. Whilst I appreciated every single one, I couldn't find the strength to reply to any. I’d show that I’d acknowledged them by responding with a heart, and wrote a status thanking everyone around a week later when I felt ready.

On the second day of visiting Freya, we had to sit down with the funeral directors and plan her special day. Planning a child's funeral is something that I wouldn't wish upon anyone. To this day, I don't know how we sat there and did it. We chose fresh white roses for her flowers, spelling out her name with a small heart, with some pink roses and pink butterflies too. My Mum, Aunties and Nanna had some of her flowers put in resin and made into a beautiful heart ornament for us so that we could keep some forever. 

We chose small pink rose memorial pins which we gave to some members of our family, some of which now wear them every day. We’ve put 4 of these aside, 2 for my nieces that we can give to them when they’re older and tell them all about their baby cousin, and 2 more for any future children that we hope we’re lucky enough to have one day. 

We decided on ‘Forget Me Not’ seeds instead of orders of service so that everyone could take them home and plant them in memory of Freya.

I remember choosing the music for the day being the hardest thing of all, how do you choose a song that will be tied to your child's death forever? We chose ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’ and ‘A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes’, both beautiful songs that I hope one day I can listen to again, think of our girl and smile. 

We chose two poems and I wrote some words from myself and Stephen, to be said on the day. Then, the worst decision of all came, did we want Freya cremated or buried? Another decision that I’d never wish upon any parent. We chose to have Freya cremated, so that we could have her home with us where she belongs. Myself and Stephen have never liked the thought of burial for ourselves either, so we agreed we wouldn't want our girl to be scared too. Freya's ashes now sit at home with us, in the most beautiful urn we picked out, I also carry them on my wrist in a bracelet bought for me by my amazing cousins, who don't know how much this bracelet will always mean to me.

Freya's funeral was the day after her official due date, I spent the days leading up (and still do) wondering how a day after my daughters due date, I was saying my final goodbye to her? How people who didn't get to meet our daughter were attending her funeral? I don't remember much of the day itself, I just knew I wanted it over as soon as possible. 

I remember pulling up in the funeral car and screaming at my Mum that I couldn't get out, I remember feeling as though I had no control over my body, it was just moving and somehow the next thing I knew I was seeing our little girl's coffin, watching her Daddy, Uncles and Grandad carry it into our daughter’s funeral service. 

The plaque on her coffin said "born sleeping June 15 June 2024", yes, June was written on twice. Me and Stephen actually giggled at this when we were standing there saying goodbye, one last little laugh with our girl. 

It was a beautiful day, the sun certainly shone for our girl and so many people showed up for her. I didn't realise until a couple of days later how many people came, my Mum told me there were people standing at the back because there weren't any seats left.

Our girl was so loved and we’ll be forever grateful to everyone who came to show her that, that day. We chose not to do anything after the service, we couldn't have thought of anything worse. We knew we’d just want to go home and be on our own, which is exactly what we did.

After the funeral had passed, we decided to get away for a couple of days and spend some time, just the two of us. We stayed in a cabin in Wales in the middle of nowhere and escaped. At the time I thought it was pointless, all I was doing was taking my grief elsewhere, it was just a different place to cry. But, looking back now it was probably just what we needed.

We hadn't had any time to ourselves to process what had just happened, so yes, maybe all we did was cry about our girl but we did it somewhere beautiful, and it was beautiful. I didn't appreciate it at the time but one day we’ll go back there, maybe with a living child and enjoy it properly. 

I can remember when we arrived in Wales, we stopped at a shop, I got out of the car and went in with Stephen, without even thinking. I walked into that shop and I sobbed. I stood there and cried when I saw a little boy arguing with his Mum about some donuts (we do laugh about that now), and just when I thought I’d pulled myself together, the baby products were right next to the till. 

It was then that I realised, I’m going to have to learn to live again.