Dad’s heartbreaking stillbirth story: ‘My son looked perfect even though he wasn't alive'

Andy Harrington, 53, a company director from Kent, and his wife Beckie, 36, lost their son Aston James the day before he was due to be born in August 2015. Here, for Baby Loss Awareness Week, Andy shares his powerful story. Andy and Beckie have three other children together, Amelia, 12, Alfie, nine and Hugo, five.

Trigger warning: contains detailed descriptions of stillbirth.

“When Beckie discovered she was expecting our third baby we were all super-excited and very much looking forward to it. The pregnancy had been going well, we’d had lots of scans – even 4D ones where you see a video of the baby – and we had no reason to think anything was wrong.

Beckie had given birth to Amelia and Alfie at home using hypnobirthing techniques and no pain relief. She was incredible and wanted to do that again with Aston.

But the day before her due date she was feeling a little sore and we went to the hospital to discuss changing the birth plan. While we were there, the midwives suggested doing a routine scan.

We were together as the sonographer started scanning Beckie’s bump and when she couldn’t find a heartbeat, we were obviously worried. A few moments later she called in a doctor to help.

When the words: ‘I’m very sorry but…’ left the doctor’s mouth, Beckie made a sound that didn’t sound human. I’ve never heard anything like it.

There are no words you can say in a moment like that. We simply held onto each other. The doctors couldn’t give us any answers at that point as to why it had happened.

Beckie was given medication to induce the birth and we were sent home where we had to break the news to our children that Aston wouldn’t be coming after all.

Read more: No pain or bleeding: How could I have lost our baby?

Alfie was only two, so too young to understand but Amelia, who was five, did and was heartbroken. We rang family who came round to comfort us but it was incredibly hard for everyone.

As a dad you feel there’s little you can do apart from be ‘present’ for your wife. We never really had a deep conversation about it, just comforted each other when we needed it.

We spoke to one of Beckie’s friends who had experienced a stillbirth several years earlier and told us what to expect. It was after that, that we made some decisions about how we would cope with the day.

Never coming home

We decided that we’d spend as much time as we could with him, take lots of pictures and invite family to see him. If he was never coming home to create long-term memories, we had to capture as many as we could in those few short hours.

So that’s what we did. Beckie’s contractions started two days later and in the early hours of 25 August, 2015, Aston James was born in a private room of the hospital. I was lying next to Beckie, holding her as she delivered him. She was amazing and I was full of admiration.

Read more: Stillbirth can happen to anyone, so why not me?

The thing about stillborn babies is they look absolutely perfect even though they’re not alive. He looked just like his brother and sister when they were born, yet his fingernails were slightly purple because of the fact he wasn’t breathing. But he was warm – it was the warmth from Beckie of course – and so beautiful.

We held him, took pictures of him and invited a specialist to come and take some casts of his feet and hands so we had some physical reminders of him.

Saying goodbye

Family members came to visit throughout the day. Although this helped us with the grieving process, I completely understand if some people would not be comfortable with coming to visit a dead baby. It’s not for everyone.

But those hours we spent with him were enormously healing. We’d never see his first tooth or his first day at school so we had to maximise those memories.

Still, saying goodbye to him at the end of that day and handing him to the nurses was the hardest thing. With all forms of grief or loss, you’re hanging onto the ‘What could have been' and so it was very painful to let him go. But it’s also inevitable and it marks the beginning of the healing.

Read more: Miscarriage: Why it happens, how it feels and where to find support

We had an autopsy for our own piece of mind but it was inconclusive. Sadly, stillbirths often are. They said the placenta was a little underdeveloped so that may have contributed but we will never really know.

We didn’t hold a traditional funeral but instead had a ‘Teddy Bears Picnic’ for family and friends in a natural burial ground. His little blue handmade coffin – which we call his ‘bed’ – had the inscription: ‘Just when the caterpillar thought his world was over, he became a butterfly’.

These particular words mean a lot to us. A few weeks before Aston’s birth, my children had been given some caterpillars. When we arrived home after the birth, they had all hatched into butterflies.

Then, when I did a reading at the picnic, a butterfly landed on my hand. It was an astonishing moment. I’m not religious, but I do believe there is something bigger than all of us.

Circle of life

We all helped to bury him – even the children – because I wanted them to learn that this is part of the circle of life and that every moment is precious. Afterward, we had a picnic on blankets and even played games such as sack races. We wanted to make it fun.

Aston is now buried next to an oak tree and a blackberry bush and we visit him regularly and take a picnic. Beckie and I have plots right next to him for when our time comes.

In the autumn, we pick the blackberries and eat them. Every cell and every atom of Aston's being is helping those blackberries to grow so we feel that by eating those berries, we are reclaiming him as part of us somehow.

Today, seven years on, Aston is always in my thoughts. I give out an award each year through my company Presentation Profits and I’ve renamed it the Aston James award. It goes to someone special such as someone with terminal cancer.

I raise money for SANDS, the stillbirth and neonatal death charity who were very helpful at the time. We recently did a charity boxing show and raised over £14,000. I also ask clients who do my courses to donate some of their earnings once they’ve hit their first £250,000.

When I run events I dedicate each one to my son. At the end of the training, I show his picture and share my memories and by doing that I hope that his story will continue to touch people. Even if Aston didn’t breathe in life, his life still had meaning."

If you’ve been affected by stillbirth and baby loss, contact SANDS for support and information.