12 Parenting Lessons, With Marina Fogle

One thing Gina Ford’s book taught us was to be strict about bedtime. Ben and I always put the children to bed at 7pm and after that, we knew it was our time. It was important that the time we spent with the children was about quality rather than quantity. I gave them my all between 7am and 7pm but that was it. It was good for our marriage and our mental health and, to be honest, for the children, too because they've always slept really well, which is crucial for maintaining good physical and emotional health. I do believe there's an element of that which can be taught.

My third pregnancy with our son Willem was very straightforward up until I went on holiday to Austria with my family. I woke up one morning feeling crampy and I thought it was because I'd eaten lots of plums during the day, but it didn't go away. My sister and father are both doctors – but Chiara felt my tummy and said she thought everything was fine. Then, all of a sudden, I just felt terrible. My blood pressure dropped, and they decided to get me to hospital. When I was in the ambulance, I started bleeding quite substantially. At the hospital, they couldn't find the baby’s heartbeat and wanted to do a C-section. I know they tried so hard, but they couldn't resuscitate him, and then, I haemorrhaged. Suddenly, they had to save my life as well. Ben was in Canada, so my mother and sister had to call and tell him Willem had died and that the doctors were fighting to save me. When Ben boarded his flight, he didn’t know what had happened to me, but luckily, I was okay. Ben was relieved that I had survived, but I was so sad that Willem had died. For about a week afterwards, I was in intensive care.

I didn't cry about what had happened to Willem for nearly three days – there were just no tears. I was totally numb, and I'd lost a huge amount of blood, but eventually the grief set in. I remember waking up one morning, eating my breakfast and sobbing into my cereal. Because I was in Austria, it made me really appreciate the NHS and all the training that’s done around stillbirth. It’s a small thing but a lot of the staff at the Austrian hospital didn’t know what had happened, so it was up to me to tell each of them Willem hadn’t survived. In the UK, the support is much more immediate; it's not perfect, but Austria felt ten years behind. In those moments, you want people to give you the information you need. For instance, I didn't know whether I wanted Willem buried or cremated, or whether I wanted a birth certificate. Luckily Chiara was there. If she hadn’t been, I’m sure I would’ve made all the wrong decisions. She thought it was important I held him, which was quite intimidating but in retrospect, I’m so glad I did.

Chiara was also brilliant about explaining what had happened to Ludo and Iona, even though they were still very young. Ludo, who was four, kept complaining about a stomach ache until one day I realised that what he was describing was grief. Julia Samuel, the renowned grief counsellor, gave me wonderful advice about talking to the children – she said it had to come from me as opposed to a professional and that I shouldn’t be afraid to show my emotions. That way, they’ll learn it’s okay to cry, she said. One of the most important parts of adjusting to sadness is learning to live with it. It turned out Ludo was most worried about something happening to me, so I had to reassure him. I could see that just talking about it lifted a weight off his shoulders. All these years later, Willem has played such a role in all our lives. He’s shaped us as a family and me as a mother. He taught me not to be afraid to cry in front of my children, and that you can survive most things with the right support.