Photo of Jean's son, Paul, sleeping.
Tell me a bit about you 

I live in Wheathampstead and have been here for 25 years. I was born in Tottenham, but we moved to Hemel Hempstead when I was about five years old as part of the London overspill. My partner, Mick, had a job that led us to move around a bit. As well as my little’un, Paul, who died as a baby, I have three children; Katrina, Mark and Ian. Katrina’s talking me into moving to near her in North Wales! 

Illustration of a green Christmas tree with a yellow star on top on a cream background
Can you tell me about Paul? 

Paul was born on 15th November 1973 in St Pauls Hospital at seven pounds. He had jaundice, but was otherwise healthy.  

Mick was late getting the Christmas tree that year. I remember he bought it home late afternoon the day before Christmas eve 1973. He put all the decorations on the tree, and I was sat in a white leather swivel chair feeding Paul. Mick turned the lights on and Paul’s eyes just lit up. He stopped feeding and turned his head. It was amazing and such a special moment. I’ll always remember that white chair. Paul died early the following morning. 

After we lost him, I was searching my mind as to why it happened – I found myself desperately looking for answers. This is what prompted me to write to the Foundation for the Study of Infant Deaths (FSID), which is what The Lullaby Trust was called at the time. I wrote to Professor Emery to try and understand if SIDS and jaundice were linked, to find answers. But he wrote back to say it had nothing to do with it. I just needed a reason. So did Mick.  

Newspaper clipping of Jean's story. There is a photo of her, Mick and Katrina.
Newspaper clipping
How did Mick cope? 

Mick took Paul’s death very badly. Mick smoked at the time, but never smoked in the same room as Paul. He blamed himself for Paul’s death, and like me, was desperate for an answer. We both took Paul’s death awfully and ultimately, it led to strains on our relationship. Early in 1976, Mick left.  

How has Paul’s death impacted you? 

In the period following Paul’s death, the coroner was actually one of my biggest supports. I used to go there a couple of times a week – I probably drove him mad! This went on for a few years. They’re supposed to keep the paperwork for a short time, but he kept mine longer because he knew I kept coming back to read it and ask questions. I was worried I’d missed something. He was lovely.  

It’s the loss without a reason that’s so difficult for me. I’ll never be able to fully rest again. I’m absolutely terrified of losing another child or a grandchild. There’s just a constant fear and anxiety. When the mattress alarms/monitors came out, I cried. They are incredible for giving parents peace of mind. The fear works its way down the family too. When Katrina had her children, she’d sleep with her hand on her daughter’s belly to check she was breathing. The effects of the loss of a baby are so wide-reaching.  

I remember doing something similar when I had Mark in 1975. I sat in a rocking chair next to his cot for six weeks. I didn’t sleep in my bed that whole time. I just kept poking and prodding Mark!

Policewoman in uniform talking to parents in their home.
Tell me how you felt when you learnt that The Lullaby Trust has just released a new training course for police officers: Investigating sudden and unexpected deaths in infancy with sensitivity. 

When I saw The Lullaby Trust’s newsletter about the new police training, I cried. ‘At last’, I thought. I’m so pleased it’s been taken on board. When Paul died, I had an awful experience with the police. I can still feel the police woman’s hand on my right shoulder. She said ‘It’s alright love, just tell me what you did.’ Those words have haunted me ever since. 

SIDS is something you never ever get over, but one of the things that I still feel to this day is those words. They led to a cycle of self-blame for the rest of my life.

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Bereavement training

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Understanding trauma after the sudden and unexpected death of a baby or young child

The sudden and unexpected death of a baby or young child can be deeply traumatic. There is no right or wrong way to respond, everyone’s experience is unique.

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