Kian James John Humphries

On August 31th 2007 I found out I was pregnant with myself and my partner's first child, it was a huge shock as I stared at the little blue dot behind my desk, we were told he was due Monday 5th May 2008...I smiled, Bank Hoilday Weekend, May Day...couldnt of been a better time. At that time I was 9 weeks pregnant, Thus far things had been going fine, even the morning sickness which I experienced for a few weeks was tolerable.
So the weeks turned into months, my stomach blossomed as he grew and grew, on the 8th December we found out he was a boy, I knew then he'd be called Kian, I knew that pretty much as soon as I'd found out I was expecting him, now he was actually my son, my kicking, growing child...
Christmas came & went, and so did my 20th Birthday I now wasnt a teenager any more and soon to be mummy...

Then one early morning in March, it was a Monday I awoke to painful backache, I'd had backache all weekend and being 32 weeks pregnant, It was normal also I'd had a routine check up the Thursday before and he was fine so I just ran a bath n had a good soak before work...

Getting to work I felt off, I pushed it aside knowing it was probably just tiredness after being up so early & started work, about 10 minutes later I felt a gush of fluid, rushing to the toilet as not to cause a scene, I was met with a pool of blood that just kept coming n coming, shouting for help, my work collegue Karen came too me, I explained and she took me to hostipal straight away...
There, I was took to a bed and surrounded by nurses, I was so scared I was crying with fear, they told me not to worry and everything would be ok, they took my clothes away, I had a drip inserted, a heartbeat monitor attached to me and before I knew what was happening, I was being wheeled down the corridor into a seperate room...
There I laid on my back. Several people were standing over me. Someone moved the ultrasound wand over my belly. There were no voices. And, it was silent. I wanted to remind someone to turn up the volume on the machine because I couldn't hear the swish swish of the heartbeat. I had forgotten. But I remembered.

Everyone was gone. Except the Consultant. Mr Young.. He looked at me. "I'm so sorry.... There's no heartbeat. Your baby died."

I closed my eyes. It was dark. Quiet. Still. Forever changed. My life. I hurt but couldn't cry. My mum still hadn't gotten to the hospital yet. And my partner wasn't by my side.

Everyone came then, my labour pains had kicked in, even though I didnt know that yet, My mum cried into my arm and yet I was numb...with shock? Pain? Fear? I dont know...I couldnt breathe...I felt nothing...

The nurse began to talk to me about procedures. I'd be giving birth vaginally.
"Could hold my baby, ? As long as I wanted.
"How long is that? Can others see her/him?" She kindly told me that everything was up to me. As long as I wanted.
I could bathe the baby and take the hand and footprints. She'd check and see. She brought her protocol book to me. She said that there was no specified time limit. I could release my baby when I was ready to. No time limit. No time limit. No time limit. No time limit. No time limit. No time limit......

My dad came then and my partner...I couldnt see them, I felt a failure, Karen then left and let them in, a mist of tears yet I couldnt cry...I was in pain and I couldnt feel...

I had plently of gas & air, everybody was there, my contractions came faster then. and at 2.22pm he was born...breech, feet first...silent

I got to hold my son. The only difference was, this baby, my son, was dead. I felt the urge. The desperate, burning desire. I wanted to nurse my baby. I somehow believed that if I just nursed him, he'd breathe. I believed I could will the breath back into him. I could make him breathe if only I could get some milk into him. Reality came back. I felt as if I'd died.

I began to shake violently. My arms wouldn't stop. Then my shoulders. My chest. My hands. All I could see was these arms shaking. Were they mine? I fell asleep. Shortly. I awoke. I looked at my son. I fell asleep. I awoke. Why was I falling asleep? I fell asleep. I awoke. I looked at my son. I squeezed him tightly to my chest so he wouldn't fall off. I fell asleep.
It was the gas & air I heard someone say...

Someone was holding him, thank god...I didnt want him on his own...

" I need some water."

My Nan and Uncle came into the room. They looked at our baby. They cried. He was in a bassinet between the door and my bed. I wanted to hold him. I couldn't talk. They seemed so far away. My mum was standing there with them. They were talking. I couldn't hear. I watched them. They opened his blanket. They looked at his body. They touched him all over. They cried.

I cannot remember when, but at some point, I was asked his name. By someone. I told them.

Kian....


I cannot remember exactly when, but I was given my son to hold. I don't even remember who gave him to me. I was holding Kian. I hurt. I was lying down. I couldn't sit up. I wanted to hold him like a mother holds her new baby. Not lying down, but sitting up. I wanted him cradled against my breast. His head next to mine. I wanted to kiss him. To envelope him with my soul. My love. My tears. I wanted to nurse him. I wanted him to know how much I loved him. To see it. And, to feel it.

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I remember being shown Kian'a tiny hand and footprints. We took pictures (actually, lots of them), and I held my precious Kian for almost 24 hours. I slept with him on my chest that night. I cried. Told him how sorry I was. Told him over and over how much I loved him.
My family and friends came to see him. To hold him. And to say Hello and Goodbye. I don't think those who held him will ever regret that short amount of time touching his sweet body. I remember finally being able to sit up. My mum helped me to pull back his blanket and search his body, which I seared into my soulful memory. I wanted to be sure I memorized every patch of his beauty. His little butt was as fluffy and soft as the nape of his neck. He was simply...beautiful.

We chose to not have an autopsy performed, only the Placenta torn apart to find out some meaning to this, as they said the abuption of the placenta they thought to have been the course....but later discovered that I almost died, too due to a heavy blood loss.
But I don't believe that Kian was meant to be here, no matter what path we'd chosen. I believe that he needed to know love...fully and unconditionally...and that's all he needed from me and his short life. I hope his need was fulfilled because every decision we made during my pregnancy with regards to his birth was made because we loved him and wanted the best start for his life.
I visit his grave often. I talk to him daily. I miss him. And my heart hurts as I know it will forever. I'm learning now how to live forever with a broken heart...