Halfway through my pregnancy with my son, I went to hospital for a scan. I knew something was wrong. I just knew. I shed silent tears on my way there, and I felt sick. I thought this was the worst feeling any mother could feel. But I was wrong.
I lay there thinking my son was dead, that any second the sonographer was going to tell me he had gone. Sure enough, she turned the screen away from me and said: "I'm so sorry, there's no heartbeat". In that second what I thought was rock bottom suddenly crumbled away. Even though I already knew in my heart that he was gone, I fell into a whole new world of pain.
They spoke to me about the birth, about holding him, about taking photos. I didn't hear a word. I was just trying to take breaths, trying to get through each second. In hindsight I can only assume this was nature’s way of trying to protecting me.
Following Toby's birth I spent days, weeks and months looking up stillbirth figures and support groups. I was horrified. 6,500 babies are stillborn every year in the UK, the second highest number in the developed world. Stillbirth is ten times more common than cot death and there are more stillborn babies than babies who die from cot death, road death and meningitis combined. There were thousands and thousands of parents feeling the same way I did. So why was the number so high? What could be done to reduce it?
There are lots of theories that say that babies slow down as they reach the end of pregnancy, because they run out of room or are conserving their energy for birth. Despite being widely believed, this is not necessarily the case. Rather than being a sign the baby is getting ready to be born, it could instead be a sign the baby is in distress. Two out of three women who had a stillbirth noticed a reduction in movement; if women reported their concerns, there’s a chance a baby in distress could be delivered and saved.
This is why Count the Kicks is so important. If we can encourage every woman in this situation to tell their midwife or maternity unit, we have the potential to save a third of stillborn babies. A similar campaign in Norway called 'Kicks Count' is testament to the difference that can be made: there, stillbirth rates have [[http://www.eurekalert.org/pub_releases/2011-04/l-whc041111.php
reduced by 50%.]]
I am determined that fewer and fewer people will join us in the baby loss community. To make this a reality we need to ensure that every pregnant woman understands the importance of monitoring their baby's movements. To do this, we print leaflets detailing foetal movements that are distributed by midwives, and run a website with important information for pregnant women. Now, we want to continue expanding, to make sure our message reaches more and more mums and helps to save more and more babies.
A brief scan of our Facebook page shows how many stories we get from mums whose babies have been saved by Count the Kicks. It's heartening to know our campaign is so effective. But every time we hear of a baby that has been stillborn and a mother who says "I wish I'd known about you sooner," we realise that we still have a long way to go.