Amanda Jackson

I’m walking 100K in September for families facing baby loss. Here is my story....

Hello,

Why am I signing up for this walk? For those of you who don’t know me well, the SANDS charity remains one of those very close to my heart as it continues to help and support those through what will inevitably be the darkest day of their lives and those many, many days, months and years after, that darkest day being the day they suffered child bereavement.

I support SANDS as there was no such organisation to support my parents when they lost their daughter and my sister Sarah in 1971. Here is their story said through me, their only living child and big sister to Sarah….

I was two years old when my parents were expecting again, with my then sister or brother being due in August. Mum had a Doctor’s appointment on the 10th June and attended to advise that things didn’t feel right with the baby, the Doctor reassuring that everything was fine, she had another eight weeks to go before her due date and to go home and put her feet up. With no movement felt, she took herself off to the hospital and was admitted to the maternity ward for bed rest.

Mum steadily felt worse and very uncomfortable and called the nurse to tell her that she was having her baby. The nurse told her to not be so stupid and walked off to have a laugh about Mum’s comments with the other nurse on duty at the time. Mum called them again to which one looked under the covers to discover my Mum had indeed given birth. You can imagine, panic stations set in but to no avail, my sister had been stillborn. Mum later described this as giving birth to a plank of wood.

Back in “those days”, it always seemed best to “get rid as soon as possible and the sooner everyone can move on the better” so the baby now called Sarah was whisked away from Mum to be “dealt with”. When Dad arrived soon after, he was told that the baby would be cremated or buried with the next person to pass away at the hospital and so that was it. Mum was kept in the maternity ward for two weeks to recover with all of the other new mothers.

Having nearly lost me two years earlier, being born six weeks early weighing only 3lb 4oz and kept in an incubator in a different hospital to Mum for six weeks, my parents were told “maybe it is for the best as you can do so much for just one” so life continued with no other children on the horizon throughout their lives together.

When I was old enough to understand, I always made sure that Sarah was not forgotten so Mum and I would always spend the 10th June together doing something that a mother and her two daughters would ordinarily do on a birthday. This could be shopping, a lovely lunch, seeing a show or just doing something together.

So fast forward nearly 48 years and Mum asked me if I could find out where Sarah was buried. No small task you understand as it had taken me the previous 15 years to successfully locate my Mum’s long lost family in Ireland. After many, many hours of more research, I discovered that the Northfield Hospital records were destroyed in a fire some years ago and felt that I had hit that ever present dead end of which there was no way forward. However, refusing to give up, I had a thought that there would be a strong possibility that Sarah may have been cremated at the nearby Aldershot Crematorium and if I could locate an area of cremations around the 10th June 1971, at least we may have found her final resting place.

So on the 10th June 2020, on Sarah’s 49th birthday, I telephoned the office, explained my story and to ask if they could possibly give me the area from cremations at that time. The lady asked all sorts of questions, including my parents names and my contact details as she would look into it to see if they hold any records relating to that time.

She called back 20 minutes later and said “I have found her”. Not quite believing what she had said I asked her to repeat it and that was when I burst into tears and my knees buckled with me falling to the floor. It transpires that Sarah had been cremated at her own and individual ceremony on the 17th June 1971, eventually being laid to rest in the Redan Road Cemetery in Aldershot, the burial ground owned by the crematorium. The lady could even provide the exact plot reference.

Telling my Mum the news was extremely emotional but we found her after what seemed an almost impossible task. Two weeks later, whilst up in Surrey for my Aunty’s cremation, my Mum, my daughter and I visited Sarah’s final resting place and placed three yellow roses, one from each of us on her. There were lots of sad and happy tears that my Mum had finally found her daughter.

I think what I am trying to say is that there are no words to describe the torment that my parents, especially my Mum must have endured in dealing with the traumatic birth alone, never having that lasting image of her daughter, no touch, no kiss, no holding that dear little hand in theirs, no keepsake, no lock of hair, no hand or footprint to look at or to touch and then never being able to say a final goodbye. There were no organisations like SANDS, no support, no counselling, no understanding of needing someone to talk to, something to touch or somewhere to go and definitely no understanding of the trauma of child bereavement. It was just brushed under the carpet just as if it was just another day.

However, how times have changed. On 1st February 2017 we lost our first grandchild, Harlow, our son’s son who was stillborn at 3 days over his due date. No explanation has ever been given just a terrible tragedy that happened. Being able to hold him and kiss him goodbye will forever hold a place in our hearts. His funeral, although harrowing for all of us but so peaceful, calm and beautiful, provided the opportunity to say our goodbyes with respect and dignity and allowing his nearest and dearest to have that final resting place to visit from then on. The thoroughly respectful way that his mother, us and families were treated was exceptional and not necessarily us, but being supported by SANDS afterwards, went on to see her have the most enormous courage to have three more children, all born healthy.

Unfortunately my lovely Mum is now in full time care due to her severe and very advanced Alzheimers. She no longer recognises me or knows my name but since said diagnosis, we no longer enjoy the 10th June together. Since then, together with my dearest friend Dawn, we celebrate Sarah's heavenly birthday every year with her taking this day off as annual leave, no questions asked. A relaxing Spa Day is the norm to ensure that there is opportunity to reflect, celebrate, relax and take time for us as we would have done had Sarah been here. 

Not a day goes by that I do not think of my sister Sarah who would be 55 now, and Harlow 9 and how their legacies have left us richer for enabling us, through donating to SANDS, to support others who are going through what will inevitably be the darkest day of their lives and those many, many days, months and years after to enable them to live life after child bereavement.

Thank you so much for reading. I hope my story has provided some insight into how much child bereavement practice, understanding and support has very much changed for the better and how your support in helping me raise funds for SANDS is so much appreciated. My treadmill is ready and waiting for the 1st September so that I can start my challenge! My target is £107 as their birthdays, 10/6/71 and 1/02/17 add up to 107!

For Sarah and Harlow xx