Everly’s Mummy – Thinking About All the Milestones Yet to Come

I gave birth to our second daughter, Everly, on 4th July this year at 22 weeks and 3 days, following a TFMR.

At our 13-week scan, we discovered that Everly had an NT measurement of 10.5mm, and we later received a diagnosis of cystic hygroma. We were told that she was very poorly, with less than a 10% chance of making it to term alive, and that if she did, she was unlikely to have a good quality of life.

Giving birth that day brought a whole range of emotions all at once, and it was incredibly difficult to navigate them. We were very fortunate to have the use of a cuddle cot, which gave us precious time with Everly and allowed us to create memories that we will keep forever.

I still remember the feeling of not being able to catch my breath when her cot was wheeled out of the room before my partner and I left the hospital. We had arrived with our baby girl inside me, and we were leaving without her. Having to leave her in the hospital after she had been born sleeping was a pain I didn’t know was possible to feel.

We didn’t know what to say or do. We just cried and held each other.

I cried for all the milestones we were suddenly going to miss. The first was leaving the hospital — the moment when we should have been taking our baby home safely with us, ready to join her older sister and brother.

Then came one day old. One week. One month.

As her due date gets closer, there are days when it catches me off guard that I should still be pregnant. I should be preparing her nursery, setting up her cot, choosing her pram and getting ready to bring her home.

Instead, we are left imagining all the things we won’t get to experience: her first Christmas, her first birthday, family holidays, her first words, her first taste of food and all the little moments that make up a lifetime.

We will carry reminders of Everly with us, everywhere and in everything, for the rest of our lives.

Although the milestones we miss are painful, I am grateful for every moment we had with her. She was, and always will be, an important part of our family. And although this love comes with unimaginable pain, I am grateful to have loved someone so deeply that their absence can be felt in everything.