Rivers Angel

River Black

"I want to live with an open heart, I want to live like I know who you are, I hope I never get over what you've done" Brandon Lake

I share my journey in hope that you will see there is magic in everything. Even death. You just have to shift your perspective.

I remember during an early check up with my midwife muttering the words "I'm pretty boring, my pregnancies are straight forward and I have quick natural labours". I had no idea what lay ahead. 

I confidently went alone to my 20 week morphology scan. I have three healthy children. I am good at this! It took longer than usual, I knew they were concerned about something. I wasn't. Then they told me to "please get dressed and call a support person. We have found some abnormalities in your baby's brain". I went hot, my world was spinning. What does that even mean? I called Cameron, my husband

and tried to calmly ask him to come as there was something wrong with our baby.

This was the beginning of multiple MRI's, ultrasounds and suggestions of invasive testing. During one of our ultrasounds, after finding that things were progressively getting worse, I asked the question

"why are we doing this? Let's just have our baby and work the rest out once he is here." This was the first time I heard of "foeticide"which is a procedure that involved inserting a needle through my stomach directly into my baby's heart and releasing a relaxant to stop my living baby's heartbeat.

I left the hospital that day angry and confused. There was NO WAY that I was letting somebody kill my baby. Every part of my being wanted to fight and protect. I would do this on my own if I had to, I would make it work. Time kept moving and I stayed frozen. Frozen in fear, searching for answers, searching for somebody in the world that had been in my exact position and could tell me that everything is going to be ok. 

One morning I woke and decided that I needed more information. I agreed to proceed with an amniocentesis where they would take fluid from my uterus and do genetic testing. This is where our answer lay. Our baby boy, River, was found to have a rare genetic deletion in which only 43 people in the world share. The information was limited but none of it held any hope for River to live a comfortable life. Words like "this is a catastrophic finding" were said to us.

I was left questioning what does it even mean to "live" does it consist of having a heartbeat and nothing else?

Sitting on my bed looking out at the sky, where I had spent most of the last 8 weeks, I had a knowing, I had to "let go with love".

This no longer was about me or my husband or my other three children, who were so excited to bath their baby brother. This was about River and saving him from a life of struggle. 

I signed the paperwork agreeing to end our baby boys life and lay there behind a blue curtain. Awake and aware I felt the cold fluid poured all over my stomach. I held my husbands hand and my beautiful midwife held us both as I feel the ache of the needle entering my stomach. "I can do this, let go with

love" my midwife and I repeated throughout the whole procedure with eyes locked.

The procedure was confirmed "successful" by ultrasound and we were told to go home and return in 48 hours where I would be induced and deliver my baby boy.

My husband and I sat in the hospital car park and cried more tears than I knew possible. What had we just done? The heartache was deep, a part of me had just died.

Saturday 8th October I packed a bag and headed to the hospital to be induced. I look back in awe of the strength found that day. I knew I had to shift my perspective to gratitude, it was the only way

I would get through. I decided to focus on the fact that I would see my baby boy that day. I was having my baby. He didn't need to be alive, his little hands and cold cheeks were enough for me to fall completely in love. Born just before midnight we spent hours just looking at him, holding him, waiting for daylight to come so we could take him home. We were sent home with a cuddle cot which kept baby River's body at 8 degrees. We spent the next three days by his side, we got to give him that bath that we had dreamed about, we read stories, sang songs, sat in our garden with him and slept by his side. My three living children were besotted by his perfection. How could he look so perfect yet have so much wrong inside? We watched as his body started to deteriorate and made plans for his next journey over the rainbow bridge.

This was the part that felt impossible to me. I had accepted the fact that River was dead but he was still with me. How was I going to let go? I had to create the same magic, that I do for my children,

for myself. I organised for the beautiful Nadine Gale from 'There will be rainbows' to meet us in a park by the water. A park where we had spread my mothers ashes 7 years ago. We sat in the rose garden holding River while my children ran around looking for his angel.

Nadine came and met our family and promised to take care of River on his next journey over the rainbow bridge. I trusted her, I knew I could let go. I handed River over and watched her white wings disappear as she cradled my baby boy. An image that will stay with me forever. Life without River was never going to be easy but I choose to be grateful for the time I had with him, the lessons he has taught me and the strength found that I never knew I had.

I knew as a mother I love and protect my children fiercely, I had no idea that protection would mean to end a life.

Jessica Black- Rivers Mum