Buying things for my baby after loss: making room for hope

For most people, buying the first little things for their baby is probably one of the most exciting parts of pregnancy. For me, it's been something I've quietly avoided.

After everything we've been through with our previous miscarriages, I've found there are certain things I just haven't been ready to do. Buying baby clothes has been one of them. I'm sure it's a very normal way to feel after loss. Maybe part of it is superstition, but I think a bigger part is self-protection. Because buying something for your baby means allowing yourself to picture them here. It means believing, even just a little bit, that this pregnancy is going to end differently.

When I was around 16 weeks pregnant, one of my friends bought me a small gift for the baby. It was such a lovely gesture and I was so grateful, but I couldn't bring myself to really look at it. I put it away somewhere safe and I haven't looked at it since.

At the time, I just wasn't ready.

But this week something has felt a little different.

Things are feeling okay. I still have those moments of panic when I haven't felt her kick for a while, or when I get a stomach pain and my mind immediately starts questioning what it means. I don't think that part of pregnancy after loss is going to magically disappear. But those moments aren't consuming everything in quite the same way.

And this week, for the first time, I allowed myself to buy some things for our baby.

When the parcel arrived, I actually took myself away somewhere quiet to open it. I didn't want it to be something I quickly opened while I was doing something else. I wanted to appreciate that moment because, for me, it felt like another milestone.

I sat there looking at these tiny things I'd chosen for her and allowed myself to enjoy them.

There was still an underlying fear. Of course there was. But there was excitement too.

And I'm starting to realise that perhaps I don't have to wait for the fear to completely disappear before I allow myself to enjoy this pregnancy.

Our loft is full of baby things from when my son was little. They've been sitting there for six years.

Every time I've gone up there over those years, I've seen them. Boxes of tiny clothes, baby equipment and all the things we'd kept because somewhere inside us we still hoped we'd need them again one day.

They've been there through every pregnancy and every miscarriage.

And looking back now, I think keeping those things was our own quiet way of holding onto hope.

For six years those boxes have represented something we were waiting for.

Now I'm getting closer to the point where I can actually go through them.

That feels huge.

As I get closer to the third trimester, I want to start preparing for this baby in the way that feels right for me. I want to go through those boxes, work out what we still have, choose the things we need and slowly start making space for her in our home.

I've also realised that preparing for a baby after loss doesn't necessarily look the way other people expect it to.

I don't want a baby shower.

People don't always understand that. I've had people question why I wouldn't want one, especially after waiting so long for this baby. And I completely understand why, from the outside, it might seem like something I should want to celebrate.

But the thought of having a room full of people celebrating my baby before she's actually here makes me incredibly anxious.

There's probably some superstition in there. There's definitely fear. But more than anything, it just doesn't feel like something I need.

I've spent so much of the last five years learning to listen to what makes me feel safe rather than doing things because they're expected of me. I don't want to abandon that now just because pregnancy is supposed to look a certain way.

I don't need a baby shower to celebrate her.

I can prepare quietly.

I can buy her little things. I can wash her clothes. I can finally open those boxes in the loft. I can prepare our home for her and let myself imagine what life might look like when she's here.

And then, when she arrives, people can come and meet her.

That feels right for me.

Maybe this is what pregnancy after loss looks like as you get further along. Not suddenly becoming fearless, but slowly allowing yourself to do the things you've been too frightened to do.

Buying the first outfit.

Opening the box you've avoided for years.

Making a little space in your home.

Allowing yourself to picture your baby in it.

There is still fear underneath all of this. I'm not sure that will completely leave me until she's safely in my arms.

But for the first time, I'm not letting that fear take every moment away from me.

I'm allowing myself to enjoy this part.

I'm allowing myself to plan.

And, maybe most importantly, I'm allowing myself to have faith that everything is okay.