In early 2019 we were delighted when we found out we were pregnant with our second child. As with our first baby, we decided not to find out the gender. The pregnancy was smooth sailing with no complications at all, and all the scans and prenatal tests looked promising. We busily got ready for our little family to welcome its newest member.

At 38 weeks our world completely crumbled when we found out our baby had died in utero. There was no warning and little time to process the enormity of the news. Anne then had labour induced and a few hours later our little boy came into the world, beautiful but not breathing. He was 3.45 kilograms (7lbs and 9oz) and 51 cm long. We called him Edward (Ned) Abel Jones. He was delivered by the same obstetrician who delivered Greta and also two lovely midwives, one of whom had been a student midwife at the time of Greta’s birth.

We were then plunged into the unthinkable world of trying to organise a funeral and memorial service for our baby, and working out how to explain to our two-year-old that her little brother wasn’t coming home. We were able to spend a day or so with Ned in hospital and (as it was pre-COVID) Greta was able to come in and meet him, which will be important for her as she grows older.

We then returned to our empty house and had to quickly dismantle the baby capsule, bassinet and change table, and try to comprehend what had happened. We had an autopsy done and lots of follow-up with two obstetricians, but no cause or reasons could be found for why Ned died.

Ned Jones. Photo by Heartfelt.