Hi all...I am doing a Skydive with our cousins to help raise money for Sands a charity very close to our hearts.

This is their Story....

This year our boy would have turned 10. To mark this mile stone birthday, myself, Dan, Chases Great Auntie Li and his Nana G, have decided climbing Snowdon at midnight wasn’t enough, so this year to raise money in his memory, we will throw ourselves out of a plane 😳 🤪 We would really appreciate any donation to raise a significant amount for our boys double digits birthday 🩵 thank you as always 🩵

On the 22nd of March, i was 37 weeks and 3 days pregnant. Ryan was born at 38 weeks and 5 days so we didn't think we had long to wait. I woke with dans hand on my tummy, a big kick was given by our little bundle, making us both smile and say 'morning bubba' little did we know this was the last time we would feel our baby move. Later that day I realised I hadn't felt baby for a while, I done the usual sugary drink, lay on left side, warm bath and nothing. You hear stories that baby doesn't have space to move as much at this stage and could be getting ready to come (please don't believe this, it's rubbish!!)

After calling the hospital they asked us to go in. We went into a room where another couple were strapped up to a monitor and we could hear their babies heartbeat fine, while we waited the midwife asked whether the mother smoked 'yeah!' She replied, something I literally hated her for! The midwife came and put the usual Doppler on my tummy with the same cold gel that I had felt so many times before and heard a little heart beat, only this time there was nothing. The poor midwife tried to tell us that she didn't know if baby was head down or bottom down so may be why she wasn't finding it, but said we were to go through for a scan. I knew this was a cover up and instantly knew our baby had passed.

Thankfully it was a weekend so there were no people waiting in the scan room as we walked through, a doctor came in and proceeded with the scan, I couldn't bring myself to look at the screen, her touch on my arm and the words 'I'm sorry' was enough for us to both break down.

We were taken through corridors and into a room. After crying for what felt like an eternity it came to my mind that not only had our baby passed but it was still in me. We asked whether they could just give me a c section but they don't like to do this due to a number of reasons. We found ourselves talking to a chaplain about funerals for our baby, not how it should be! We then had to go through for another scan so that a second doctor could give the opinion, as if once wasn't enough!

After my mum arriving with a hospital bag and lots of cuddles and tears we decided to start my labour. I had my first pessary at 3 in the afternoon. After all the pain relief I could possibly have and incredible support from my poor Husband and Mum our gorgeous little man Chase was born at 12.09 weighing 7lb 10 on the 23rd of March. He looked absolutely perfect.

The next few hours were spent cuddling our little man and family that felt strong enough to do so to come and see him. He was placed into something called a cuddle cot, these amazing pieces of equipment give grieving parents up to 72 hours with their baby by dropping the body temperature to prevent deterioration. If parents wish they can even take their baby home in one of these to grieve as they see fit to do so (we didn't choose to do this).

The next day we had a chaplain visit to bless and give a small naming ceremony and to talk to us about arranging a funeral (again, something no parent should have to do) This was soon followed by a visit from a consultant to sign forms to say we didn't want our son to have a post mortem done (there is only a 50% chance that they would find the cause).

The rest of the day, through the night and most of the next day we spent cuddling and having as much time as possible with our little beaut. The amazing midwives at QA came and took his hand and foot prints and moulds, a lock of his hair (not that he had much) and some beautiful photos.

We decided they would need to take him from our room before we could leave as we couldn't bare the thought of walking away from him. We were handed a beautiful memory box with his prints, a lock of his hair, photos, candle, a seed to plant, a small teddy (he had 2 in his cot with him, we took one and one stayed with him) an angel, and a memory card for photos. So instead of leaving with a babe in arms, we had a box.

You would think the next few weeks we would be allowed to grieve, how wrong. Just like every new Mum, my milk came in, I had no baby to feed making this a constant painful reminder. We had to visit the bereavement team to decide what we wanted to do about our sons funeral, we had to go to the same office as people do to register births to register our son as a still birth, we had to attend a meeting to confirm what we already knew, from external examinations, bloods, chord and placenta tests our son was just perfect. We had to choose flowers, songs and we wrote a poem for our beautiful boys special day. We waited just under a month for our boys funeral and only then did we feel we could start grieving, with the help of some amazing family and friends the long journey began. Cannot begin to say how much of a rock Dan was at the lowest of lows, deep down I knew he was broken, but being a man he felt he needed to be the strong one, this is definitely not the case, we both lost OUR son. Thankfully with a select few people we were able to support each other as much as possible (you all know who you are)! There's not a day that goes past that we don't think about Chase, Ryan and Ida are always talking about him and will grow up knowing all about their brother 💙

Sands, the stillbirth and neonatal death charity, operates across the UK: supporting anyone affected by the death of a baby; working in partnership with health professionals to ensure that bereaved parents and families receive the best possible care; and promoting improvements in practice and funding research that could help to reduce the loss of babies’ lives.