Chey

Jog 31 Miles in May

My Activity Tracking

94
mi

My target 50 mi

I’m jogging 31 miles in May for families facing baby loss

I’ve committed to jogging 31 miles in May for every much-loved baby sadly not here today.

Sands ensure that everyone affected by the loss of a baby gets the support they need and deserve when facing the toughest of times. They campaign for change, provide training for midwives and healthcare professionals, and support research so that fewer babies die and so that less families experience the tragedy of losing their baby. Anything you are able to donate means so much.

Thank you.

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My Updates

Breathe...

Friday 2nd May
Growing up, I never thought much about it. I certainly never heard much about it.

I remember a colleague glibly running off stats on the expected checklist of her life to come – she’d meet a great guy, get married, buy a house, have 2 babies and 1 miscarriage…and there was other stuff, but my brain doesn’t remember it all now. We were in our early 20’s. What did we know about the reality of that last one.

As I got older, it was pretty clear that fertility probably wouldn’t be smooth sailing for me – thank you, endometriosis.

Before I got married, I was told by a specialist that I’d never have a child without IVF. Um…bucket of cold water right there, as I’d seen the chaos IVF could wreak on women’s bodies, let alone their minds, hearts, sense of self-worth…and their marriages. I knew I wasn’t strong enough for that.

Turns out, you never know what you’ll need to find the strength for until you’re in it. I never had to go through IVF, thankfully. I still marvel at the strength of women who do it.

I did, however, become uncomfortably familiar with positive pregnancy tests. So many little pink lines. So much joy. So much hope. And so, so many tears.

At the time, it felt insurmountable.
Every day. Deep breaths, slap on a smile, go through the motions. You’ve got this. Your sister in law is pregnant. Breathe. Smile. So is your colleague. That’s great. Congratulations. Smile. And your friend. And the cashier at the corner shop. And every other woman you pass in the mall. Ok. Smile. Oh my God, babies everywhere. Except here. My arms are so heavy with the weight of absence. What am I doing wrong? I can’t breathe.    
But I can’t break. I’m fine. I’m not falling apart. I’ve got this. I’ve got this. Breathe. Smile.

Truth…I was not fine. I was falling apart. And every day was a struggle to hold my crumbling pieces together and not let it show.

But it was also a time when so many incredible women came out of the woodwork and held me up. With their own stories. Their losses. Their strength and survival.

See, as you get older, it becomes harder to find women who have not been through either a miscarriage or infant loss. I learned that there were warriors all around me. That I may have felt desperate, but I was far from alone.
Those women leant me strength, and gave me hope.

I am one of the lucky ones. Despite the hiccups, I have two absolutely amazing little girls now, and most days I’m knee-deep in the chaos of everyday routines and schedules, wondering if I’ve lost my mind, and if I’ll ever locate the elusive beast.
But every night I tuck my rainbow spawn into bed and marvel that this is my life. That I got this lucky. It’s not something I take for granted. Ever.

My girls are well-acquainted with Mom’s “happy tears”…there are still moments that steal my breath when I look at them, in all their sparkly, savage brilliance. Blessed.

Still...all these years later, I still can’t listen to Daughtry’s ‘Gone Too Soon’ without breaking down.

It’s uncomfortable and inconvenient and raw, and there are far FAR too many women (and their partners) who may not know how to talk about it, or what to say. Who don’t want to seem weak. Who smile and downplay it, trying not to make others feel awkward in the presence of their grief. 

That is why I think SANDS is amazing in their efforts to support those navigating the utter sh*t storm that is pregnancy- or infant-loss. You never know who may need someone to lean on, to help them find their own strength, while they’re just trying to breathe and smile.

Thank you to my Sponsors

£11.33

Cathy Jones

£11.33

C4