So Little Time So little time to hold your hands,So little time to understand,So little time to feel your hair,So little time to love and to care.So little time to be with thee,so little time to fulfill your dreams.but do not measure my time with you with a second hand,but with grains of sand throughout gods land, For love is not measured by time or money, but with grains of sand in the promised land, that I now am. love Sofia Rose, Bobbie Robert Powell (Grandad Bob)foetal position, and I often worry that she suffered when she died, wonder whether she was in pain, or wonder whether she just went to sleep, I hate to think of her all alone and in pain. I wish I could have helped her, took away any pain she may have suffered as she died.At that point in time I thought I could not possibly cope with the loss, I couldn't live without my baby, what was the point when all that I had dreamed of and lived for had been snatched from me, from us. Initially I blamed myself, I had so much guilt, worried that I had been doing too much and had brought on labour, I was always on the go.. then I was angry, angry at everyone, angry that it had been us, our baby..it seemed so unfair.. it was unfair.. but slowly I coped, or functioned would be a better word. It's six months on now and I still struggle to make sense of it all and I try to accept what has happened but there are still those days when it's like yesterday and the pain is so raw...Not a day goes by without thinking of her, imagining how different our lives should be now, imagining how old she would be now and who she would look like. There have been two new births in our families since losing her, two little girls and it's difficult to look at them without feeling pain, as when you see them you realise how much you have lost.Sofia-Rose you lived for such a short time, but in that time you have touched our hearts for a life time.You will always be our little flower, the child we had but never had but yet we'll have forever.Love mammy and daddyEdel and Roland Flowermoments21

Having lost a baby through miscarriage in November 1998 we were delighted on March 19th 1999 to discover that I was pregnant again. Everything went well for the first few weeks and I relaxed and began to really enjoy being pregnant. We went for our first scan and were given a due date of December 2nd.I had a routine scan at 28 weeks and though the consultant appeared a little pre-occupied, I left thinking all was well. By October my bump was huge and people joked that I must be having twins. I was due another scan on 18th October. We spent the previous weekend with my family in Dublin shopping for baby items. On the Sunday we all had lunch at my sister's house and everyone felt the baby kicking. On the day of the scan my husband, Seán, went to work and I travelled on my own. When I got there I began to tell the doctor about pain I'd had in my back but again, he seemed slightly pre-occupied and told me to get up on the couch for my scan. Then the doctor said 'There's a problem, you have a lot of fluid'. I just thought he'd suggest draining it or something and really didn't imagine it to be a big deal. Then he said 'There's a problem with baby', and he took my hand. I just started to cry even though I still thought it wasn't too serious. He told me that the baby's head had not developed and the rest is a bit of a blur.Our baby had anencephaly. Anencephaly is a neural tube defect. It happens when the baby's spine does not close properly at the top, very early on in pregnancy. Because of this the baby's brain does not develop properly and therefore the skull bones do not develop. Straight away I told him to take the baby out and that I didn't want it, something I regret saying now, of course. He showed me the screen and explained that the baby's head should be a lot bigger. I felt physically sick. At this stage I didn't know what to do. I was on my own and my husband was an hour and a half drive away. The doctor rang him to break the news and it was then that I realised that our baby was going to die as he said the word 'fatal'. The doctor told me to go home and come back in 2 weeks. I thought he was crazy. How did he expect me to carry this baby, a boy, for another day, never mind 2 weeks? He explained that it was best for me to go full term, or as long as it took for the baby to come naturally. I couldn't understand why he couldn't deliver him by c-section but I went along with him. Now I am so grateful for his wisdom. Poor Seán had a harrowing journey ahead of him but thankfully a colleague drove him home. As for me, the doctor rang a work colleague of mine to come and collect me. She had no idea what was going on but she was there in 20 minutes. She brought me home and waited with me. It took me about 3 days to learn to say the word 'anencephaly' properly. Everyone that came to visit heard the story, maybe more than once, but I found that I had to keep telling it to try and realise that it was real. We decided to call our baby Jack - a good strong name for our strong little boy. He was such a lively baby in the womb and would kick for hours of the day and night. In the 6½ weeks that followed I spent every day concentrating on Jack, talking to him. I told him time and time again how we loved him and how he was so wanted. Then it was time to organise his funeral, even though he hadn't even been born yet. After many agonising hours thinking about it we decided to bury Jack with his grand-dad, Sean's father. I had wanted a plot of our own but Sean didn't want to think of us dying as well. I wanted to be buried with Jack when my time came but in the end reason won me over and I agreed that he should be with his grand-dad as he would surely be the first person to meet him in heaven. Jack was born by c-section on 8th December 1999. Sean was led into the theatre and we waited - then he told me to look to my left and there was our darling baby son. The midwife, had put a little bonnet on him, one which was crocheted especially for him by a friend of my mother's. He was whisked away and was back in seconds wrapped up in a dark green towel. I was just fascinated by him. His eyes were wide open and were very big and very blue. We could see where his head didn't continue above the eyes but at that moment it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was born alive and he made us very proud by giving us 27 minutes of life to share with us. I had hoped for even 5 minutes! There was no outward sign that he was alive but his heart beat for the 27 minutes. He was born at 9.07 a.m. and died at 9.34 a.m. Once he had died the midwife took him away to dress him. Both our families were waiting anxiously outside and after a while of us taking photos they were led in. My parents were first to come in - slowly. I think they were a bit afraid of what Jack would look like. Everyone cried and at the time I couldn't understand why they were all so sad - here was our baby and I was so excited having him with me, even if he was dead. The staff at the hospital were just unbelievable. I cannot praise them enough. They encouraged us to see Jack each day and we did. I am so grateful for that time we had with him to hold him and kiss his fabulous soft little lips. He was absolutely gorgeous. He looked a bit like Sean around the mouth and my mother swears he had my nose.Unfortunately the day came when we had to bring him home to be buried. It was Sunday 12th December. I was crying and shaking uncontrollably and as I fixed Jack's Born at 9.07 a.m. on 8th December 1999 - Died at 9.34 a.m. on 8th December 1999 -Jack McDonaldmoments22