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£3,953raised of £5,000 target by 277 supporters

Weʼre raising £5,000 to help fund the Snowdrop Suite at Derriford hospital, and help fund Pregnancy Crisis

Plymouth, UK
25 days to go

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Story

Like most stories, there is a beginning and an end, unfortunately my story as a Mother is shorter than most. My name is Jennifer, but I answer to a selection, Jenn, Jenny, Womble or Noodles (primarly my Dad’s name for me), and I am a Mother, a mother to Percy. I am not your usual Mother, I am a Bereaved Mother, a title I wear with honour, but with deep grief and sadness.

Our story starts December 2017, with an elated set of new parents to be, my husband (Fred, yes that is his real name, not his nickname. Apptly named after Freddie Mercury!) found out that we were expecting our first child together. For those who know me, deep to my core, and listened to me agonising for years at how desperate I was to start a family with Fred, they were pleased to hear that my plee had been answered! Fred had finally caved, he had finally dictated that the time was right! (Although I think that time had been decided due to a stressful BOST and a looming, out of no where, which is impecible notice for the Navy, deployment to un known seas.)

Fast forward your minds, and in quick time, play through in your metaphorical memory a relatively easy, beautiful and enjoyable pregnancy. We hit a few hurdles with the passing of my beautiful Mother in March, that shook us both to our core; knowing that the woman who had raised me, taught me to be the person that I am today, would not be able to hold her grandchild, from her only daughter. The pain for me was losing the idea, a memory I had made up, of my Mother looking at Percy for the first time. My mother was fierce, strong, and had created that in her only daughter. A pregnancy that I loved every single moment of, even with my head in the toilet, even the hip and back pain; those pains eased with every little kick that Percy made for me.

Fast forward to the 28th of June 2018, you probably do not recall to the exact fact of what you were doing that day, but my day may have been different to most. After what had been a stressful day, I realised, at 31 weeks and 2 days pregnant, that our son, our Percy had stopped moving.

We made a quick procession to the triage waiting room, with an agonising wait in a room with other Mums and Dads. I sat there, frozen in fear, willing our boy to move, begging him to stop being like his Dad, a lazy thing, who moved only for food (sorry Fred!) the realisation came quickly to me as I saw the way a mother, directly opposite me looked at her new bundle of sweet goodness. My fingers gripped tightly to the chair, willing myself not to break, not to cry, as I flung my face into Fred’s chest, muttering the words “he is dead Fred, we will never get to look at our baby how she looks at hers.”

We were then quickly escorted to Triage, where a kind, and thoughtful midwife tried her hardest to find Percy’s heart beat; I panicked, I was sweating, I was begging her to try harder as she grabbed my hand, and looked at me how only a mother looks at her daughter, and she lightly spoke “I will get the Dr now.” After a few steps walking, of which felt like my final steps, the longest steps, to a deep purple delivery room, a room that will be filled with so many pure and happy memories for those parents lucky enough to walk away with their bundle, that room to me is etched deep into my heart for eternity. Another, kind and caring Dr greeted us, quickly we laid down, the gel felt colder than usual, an image of a ghost appeared on the screen, my son, Fred’s son, four chambers of a heart, sat silently, having muttered their final words hours ago. The pain soared through me, as in those moments, seconds dragged into hours, without hearing, only lip reading as words buzzed around my ears, un recognisable as English “Im so sorry, but your baby has died.”

My stomach turned, someone, somewhere physically reached inside my chest, grabbed my heart, and ran away with it. The screams ripped through me at exactly 2348 on the 28th June 2018 I found myself on my knees, thrown off the bed, holding my bump in desperation, screeching the words “our son cannot be dead, tell me they are joking.” An inconsolable woman; I left a part of me in that room, I walked out a different woman, the part of me that I loved remains in that room, she remains with the idea and hope that her son will live on to be the person she imagined him to be.

With grief comes love, and this is my cause, the support I have been given from outside charities has been utterly immense! The Day we gave birth to Percy, we delivered in a private room, tucked away from the cries of labouring mothers and their new born babies. A room set up only from the generous donations of people like yourself, the room is called the Snowdrop Suite, located in Derriford Hospital, their mission is to help berevaed parents deliver in a safe and comfortable area that is away from the reminders of leaving the hospital without your baby. The snowdrop appeal remains deep in my heart as without them, my labour would have been an impossibility. Percy’s legacy is to improve the standards of this room, to help develop the equipment and ensure that Mums and Dads like us, know that they are cared about, they are not forgotten, and that their baby matters. Please help me raise money to donate to the Snowdrop appeal Plymouth. Without them, our experience could have been so many worlds apart.

Percy’s life has not been forgotten, his milk has been expressed and delivered to a preemie baby, for two months, with over 1000oz of breast milk expressed. Thank you Percy for ensuring another baby’s life has been built upon with the gift your milk. I am proud of you.

If you have taken your time to read this far, then thank you, thank you for acknowledging our story, thank you for the support shown already.

If you are unable to donate, but would like to spread the word, please share Percy’s story, and help future Mums and Dads who need the support that I have recieved.

Thank you again. Jenn, Fred and our little something, our littlun, our son, Percy.

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Updates

6

  • Jennifer Noakes3 months ago
    Jennifer Noakes

    Jennifer Noakes

    3 months ago

    Thank you everyone! 💜💜💜

    Update from the Page owner

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  • Jennifer Noakes3 months ago
    Jennifer Noakes

    Jennifer Noakes

    3 months ago

    So much love to everyone who has shared, and spread Percy’s name around the country. Thank you. 💜

    Update from the Page owner

    Share this update to help us raise more

  • Jennifer Noakes3 months ago
    Jennifer Noakes

    Jennifer Noakes

    3 months ago
    Update from the Page owner

    Share this update to help us raise more

3 months ago

Jennifer Noakes started crowdfunding

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Page last updated on: 11/21/2018 9:46 PM

Supporters

277

  • Anonymous

    Anonymous

    Nov 21, 2018

    £20.00

  • Elizabeth Webb

    Elizabeth Webb

    Nov 21, 2018

    Such an important cause to potentially help so many parents. Thank you on their behalf.

    £10.00

  • Jane Frajbis

    Jane Frajbis

    Nov 20, 2018

    £20.00

  • Anonymous

    Anonymous

    Nov 4, 2018

  • Anonymous

    Anonymous

    Oct 15, 2018

    £20.00

  • Emina Nicklin

    Emina Nicklin

    Oct 14, 2018

    Keep going 🙂 Percy will be proud

    £10.00

  • Becca, Luke & Poppy XxX

    Becca, Luke & Poppy XxX

    Oct 13, 2018

    Such a good cause you're raising money for, good luck XxX

    £13.00

Jennifer Noakes

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About the fundraiser
Jennifer Noakes

Jennifer Noakes

Plymouth, UK

A little bit about me, originally from Middlesbrough, I moved to Plymouth in 2011 to join the Navy; I have deployed to many countries with the most special West Africa in 2014 to help with Ebola Humanitarian Aid. Fred is my husband, Percy is our son.

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