David Sonny Beanland

I didn't give up, I let go... the story of a TOP (Termination of Pregnancy) Mummy & Daddy.

Dear David,

When I was born, I was born with gastrosciesis, a hole in my stomach and I never really knew whether
I would have kids. 17 month of trying for your sister and I was amazed when Kya arrived. When she
was only 6 months old, in November 2006, I realised I was late, I decided to test, and I sat there
looking at the test stick I realised 2 lines, I was pregnant with you. I ran downstairs and gave
your Daddy a huge hug, I was ecstatic. I told the whole family on Christmas day, everyone was so
excited.

The first trimester came and went, and everything was fine, in fact the pregnancy was like
clockwork, just minus all the bad bits, You gave me no morning sickness, no tiredness, I felt fine,
I didn’t feel pregnant really! I was able to watch my gorgeous bump expand. I was just so happy.

In January 2007 me and your step brother James attended you're 13 week scan, we couldn't wait to see
you, and called you Peanut. The scan lasted minutes, the sonographer said you were only 11 weeks
not 13 - which I knew was wrong, but she didn’t indicate any problems, you seemed to be developing
fine. James was excited to see you growing in my tummy. He longed for you, someone to play football
with, and someone to teach to ride a bike. Your Step brother and sister adored Kya, but to James a
brother would be the Bee's knees.

As far as I was concerned, we'd made it past the risky part, the height of miscarriage, and now it
was just the home run! I had made big plans for you coming into our lives, with you and Kya so close
in age I had to plan, I would be a great mum to you both, you would grow so close to your sister,
you would be inseparable, and I felt so so lucky!

Then Thursday 12th of April 2007 arrived, your anomaly scan, I asked James to come along so he would
be able to know if you were a boy or girl. I was 20 weeks and 5 days pregnant with you now, I had a
big tummy and could feel you kicking.

My name was shouted and I lay on the bed, the cold gel put on my tummy... James shouted straight
away "is it a boy?" the sonographer checked and said "come here, look, two legs and what's that in
the middle", James shouted so loud "it's a boy"..... my heart skipped a beat; I had my girl, and now
I found out you were a boy, that would complete my 2.4 family.

I wasn’t aware how long we were in the room but the sonographer was studying you for a while, she
asked someone else to come in, and then said "Amanda, something is wrong with the baby’s heart,
and I need you to come back tomorrow”.

The next day was Friday 13th April 2007, and it turned out to be an unlucky day indeed for us. Your
Daddy came with me as I went back to be scanned again, we were given 2 photographs of you and led
into the bereavement room. The sonographer looked at me, looked at Daddy and said "I’m so sorry,
it's not good news, your son has Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome, and a cleft palate".

I looked at her numb but asked "Can this be fixed? Is he okay? I'll do everything for him please?"
The sonographer replied that your HPLH was so severe your chances of surviving this alone were very
slim - just 3%, however she also suspected a chromosome problem. I went straight away for the amnio,
I remember the sonographer saying to me “Amanda, the best case scenario is your son has Downs - in
which case he has a very slim chance, worst is Edwards or Pataus - where his chance isn't a chance
at all, but either way with his HPLH it's not looking good, get ready for the worst possible
outcome". When I went into the amnio the pain of the needle inserting your sac of amniotic fluid
was nothing compared to the feeling of my heart breaking for you.

We had to wait 4 days on the results, the longest 4 days of my life, all I wanted was to be be able
to change things and hold you so close and protect you like a Mummy should. On Tuesday 17th April
2007 the results came through, David, you had Full Mosaic Pataus Syndrome (Trisomy 13), I didn't
know what to do. I googled it and me and your Daddy just cried. I decided to email someone whose
child had pataus, she advised me to think really hard and speak to my consultant. She said her
child’s life, all be it that she was living with pataus, wasn’t a life she had hoped, she was on
full time oxygen, she was blind and deaf and tube fed, she'd been at home since 13 days old waiting
to die.

I was so scared David, to "terminate" sounded like I didn't want you, but I did, I adored you, I
needed you, I wanted you, and I always will. Your Daddy was so scared too, we didn't know what to
do, were you suffering? Were you feeling pain? Could you cope much longer? I had to think so hard,
so I rang your great Granny Jean and she said to me 'No one will ever think less of you for ending
your sons suffering, how do you know he's not in pain now?, You don't, be a good Mother Amanda, set
him free'.

Those words were poignant, however, I still wasn't 100% sure so I spoke to my consultant. I asked
her to tell me straight and not sugar coat it, so she looked at me and said the words 'Amanda, David
is not compatible with life - he has a 1% chance of making it through the pregnancy and labour, and
if he does, he'll die in days, no surgeon will fix his heart because he has pataus - and I am 99%
sure his heart won't hold out”.

Those words killed a part of me that day, but my decision for you my son was to say the INEVITABLE
goodbye to you before you were due. After phoning your Daddy in tears, we agreed, and at that point
I signed what felt like your life away.

Swallowing those 3 tablets to end my pregnancy was horrific, in fact I felt like my heart had just
ripped in two. That second, my hopes, my dreams and my ideas for a whole life with you David just
died. I had to take the pain of you, I had to deal with not having you in my life every day for the
rest of my life - to save you ever suffering. I had to take the pain off you and set you free.

Those next 2 days were the hardest I have ever had, feeling every kick from you, knowing it could be
your last.

On Friday 20th April 2007, I was taken to the delivery suite. I was induced and at 2.45pm labour
started, I was given gas and air, pethidine and finally at about 9pm I was put on morphine. I lay
there with my mobile phone in my hand, sending text messages to Aunty Claire, telling her how I was
feeling, she was due Joshua a day before I was due you. Aunty Claire text me the words to the song
two little boys and I cried.

At 11.25pm I felt the urge to push. Me and your Granny were there, it was so hard, knowing you were
trying to get into the word, knowing you had already died, and as I pushed you into this world at
11.42pm I wanted so much for you to scream that little broken heart out, to say I'm fine Mummy, to
look at me and to get better..... but you only weighed 11.09oz, and at just 22 weeks gestation, you
had gone, gone to play with the angels.

You're Granny saw you first and Daddy arrived in minutes, you were put into a tiny Moses basket. We
looked at you, Our son, Our David Sonny, it was bittersweet, you were so gorgeous, but it was very
obvious with you're cleft palate, you're 4 1/2 fingers on your left hand, 6 on your right hand, and
6 toes on each foot, you were too poorly for this earth. You also had low birth weight, wide apart
eyes and low ears it was all we needed to see of the disorder that had ripped you of your life.

The midwife, Anne-Marie took you and put a beautiful blue hat on you, she said "oh baby boy we don't
want you getting cold", I was heartbroken, she spoke to you like you were alive, yet you were
sleeping forever, an angel.

At 6.30am I had you blessed by the Roman Catholic father, Father Winstanley. David Sonny Beanland,
blessed to live with God eternally.

After writing in the remembrance book, we done the hardest thing we have ever ever had to do in our
lives, we walked away from the hospital and got into the car. We should have been putting your car
seat in there, but we were walking away with a book containing your bands, hat, and footprints, with
empty arms and broken hearts.

Your funeral took place on Tuesday 01st May 2007, when the car came I looked around at my neighbours
houses, twitching curtains, watching to see who had died, I wanted to scream "It's my son - he's
gone". I saw you're little coffin, white with blue stars, little silver handles, and a little plaque
saying "David Sonny 20-04-07".

It was a beautiful service undertaken by the Vicar Rev Weddle who had married Daddy and I and
christened Kya. He should have been christening you too, instead he was burying you.

At my 6 week check I was told that it was nothing genetic that your Daddy and I had, the reason you
were poorly was simply “one of those things”. Therefore Daddy and I decided to try again for a
baby sister or brother for you. Not a baby to replace you David, no one could ever do that, no one
could replace our son, you are too special.

In August before your due date, your Headstone was erected, we decided on the words
David Sonny Beanland
Born Asleep 20-04-07
Beloved Son, Brother and Grandson
Your song has ended but your melody lingers on

Then in November 2007, I was feeling really dizzy, sick, and run down - I was pregnant with your
baby sibling, and terrified. Who is the first person you tell when your pregnant? For us it was your
screening Midwife Pauline. She booked Mummy in at 6 weeks and 6 days pregnant; there on the screen
was this little speck of dust with a flicker… a heartbeat. Then at 10 weeks I returned for
another scan, every single day I was so scared of losing your sibling, yet again the speckle had
turned into a bean, with a flickering heartbeat.

At 14 weeks, before I’d even booked in with a midwife I had an anomaly scan, all measurements were
fine and your sibling had seemed to be progressing well. I, on the other hand had severe dizziness
and sickness - but I'd endure anything as long as this baby was healthy. Then at 18 weeks pregnant,
the big one, the scan I was dreading, the one where I’d know if there were any markers for this
baby to have Pataus, for it’s heart to be checked. As I lay on the bed, Daddy and Granny beside
me, the sonographer tickling my swollen stomach with the scanner, checking every minute detail of
the baby, showing me everything she could check, asking if I needed to know more about things,
checking the face for cleft, checking the hands and feet, we got the words we wanted to hear "All
Clear". Then a funny thing happened, just as she hit the babies face her printer printed 2 pictures.
Nothing had ever happened to her like that before, and we knew David that you were being a Monkey
and saying it was okay to love this baby... who just happened to be a girl. I was happy, but in all
honesty a little part of me felt cheated that she wasn’t a boy, it felt like I’d lost you again.
I know that sounds selfish David but my emotions were everywhere, and very soon that left and I was
left with elation that our little girl was healthy.

You’d think by now I’d be delighted, and I was, but I was still so scared. I went back to the
consultant at 23 weeks in tears saying you have to recheck me, you can’t leave me now I need to be
rechecked. So I had another more detailed heart scan. Again all clear.

I remember every day of holding you're sister in my tummy and thinking, is this the last day? Will
she die today like you did David. I remember a week before she was due walking with you're Granny in
the woods and her saying we need to get the cot set up, and me saying "Mum if she dies, can I exhume
David and have them reburied together".... You're Granny cried David, she knew every day I wasn't
thinking when, I was thinking if.

Then I started with headaches and high blood pressure and I thought she had gone, the hospital
monitored me and gave me a sweep. 2 days later, 15th July 2008, I woke up with stomach ache, which
turned into waves of pain....contractions. After a frantic and not very organised dash to the
hospital I sat on the bed to be told she was coming, very soon. As the midwife wheeled me to
delivery I prayed to you David, prayed for the strength to get me through, prayed for your sister to
arrive healthy, prayed for her to scream David, I prayed for you to keep her with me.

At 13.11pm I pushed your sister into the world, but no sudden scream, the cord was round her neck
twice and tight, the midwife got it off, and Granny cut the cord, that's when she screamed and
rasped at her breath - and I mouthed thank you to you David, for being your sisters guardian angel
and saviour.

We named your sister Eleanor, which means "shining light".

David you are in our hearts every day, and just because we let you go free doesn't mean we don't
love you, because we do and we will forever and ever - you are our son, and nothing or no one will
ever change that.

We love you so much - and every day we think of you - and we will do until we come to meet you.

David I wish people could understand that grief doesn't end if we don't speak about you. It doesn't
end at all, we can and never will forget you, and we will keep you in our lives forever.

Godbless my Perfect Prince.

Mummy and Daddy.