‘Are you breastfeeding?’ I was asked when paying for breakfast at Alder Hey. ‘Well, expressing’ I answered. to which she said ‘Same thing’ and processed my PICU voucher. I felt very confused in this new identity as a mother, I had just started my breastfeeding journey with a NICU nurse showing me how to clean pump parts and using the hospital provided stickers to label up Astrid’s bottles of milk. I had envisaged our breastfeeding journey being rocky in places as I had been warned throughout my pregnancy, but I hadn’t anticipated it like this. I was thrown into a world I didn’t feel prepared for but realised that trying my hardest to express milk for our daughter was something that I could do for her.

I had started colostrum harvesting while pregnant and felt a real sense of accomplishment from it, I was amazed at what my body was able to do and that it just knew how! But I was also really proud, it felt like a reflection of the hours of researching and reading I had done, in an attempt to ease as many of the breastfeeding hurdles I had anticipated.

I had a really good milk supply which still amazes me to be honest. If my body had decided that after a very difficult few final weeks of being pregnant (only looking back do I realise just how unwell I was), an emergency c-section and days spent transferring between hospitals and to and from NICU, that it wanted to go into survival mode, I would have understood. Instead it started to do something that was new to it too, and we started our journey of feeding baby girl. It wasn’t easy but it did come very naturally and I think that was such a gift.

We were able to give Astrid small amounts of colostrum initially and then milk as part of her regular ‘cares’. This involved syringing 1ml into each little cheek and massaging it in carefully so she was able to get some of the benefits and also enjoy tasting something. The reward of that little tongue poking out was worth every minute of pumping I can tell you.

Then, I was able to give her ‘proper’ milk on two different occasions through her feeding tube. It was really bothering me that until she was 6 days old she hadn’t had any proper milk. I understand why but it felt so odd to me, that she hadn’t been fed yet. But I was able to give her a few of the feeds that she had, by holding a syringe over her, filled with freshly pumped milk. I felt so proud of both of us, she was well enough to tolerate a little milk and I had managed to get it for her. We did it together.

I skipped a pumping session on the day Astrid died. I just had a feeling to not go and do it, lots of things about that day just told me to sit put with her right there, so we did. As we were packing up our bed space in PICU to go to the Snowdrop suite at Alder Hey, I asked the nurse what would happen with Astrid’s milk that had been kept frozen. I was actually really happy to hear that it could be donated, despite it being the worst day of my life, we knew that Astrid’s little life was going to have impact beyond her 10 days, and this was one of those ways.

I took a little of her milk with me to keep as I had already ordered my breastmilk ring. This is a keepsake now that I really treasure. Not just because Astrid is no longer with us, but because it represents a fulfilled desire in some way. I had so hoped to be able to breastfeed Astrid, it really was such a goal of mine and one that we did together. I picked out that ring while I was pregnant, imagining that some months down the line we would decide that our breastfeeding journey had come to and end as they do, and this ring would mark that. I didn’t anticipate it to be so short or that it would also serve as a memory to my darling girl, but so glad that it was one part of our dream that did come true.

The Milk Bank at Chester will hold such a special place in my heart for the work that they do for poorly babies like Astrid. I know that if expressing wasn’t on the cards for us, we would have been supported by so many other generous mothers and babies who donated their milk. I am glad a little of our breastfeeding journey was able to continue on through the research that the milk bank do. We have a beautiful memory pebble and picture that helps mark our special donation together.

Our breastfeeding journey ended when the volunteer blood bike collected the colostrum that I had frozen at home, it was such a proud but sad moment as I imagine it would have been if it would have ended in the way I hoped for. Looking for these parallels has helped my grief and finding little moments of joy. I hold onto hope that one day I will be able to donate to the Chester Milk Bank again, and be able to take Astrid’s siblings to see the wonderful work they do, and of course the memory tree painted with her name.