Little Beatrice Rose Anne Martin-Gazzard came into the world in late December 2014.
Tragically, she was born sleeping.
Left behind were Beatrice’s heartbroken parents, Libby Martin and Rob Gazzard.
However, determined to find the positives in their radically changes lives, since their daughter’s passing the couple – who are due to marry in the autumn of next year – have insisted on marking milestones such as birthdays, Father’s Day, Mother’s Day and anniversaries.
Indeed, 25-year-old Libby often takes to her popular blog, elizabethrosemartin, to share their memories and emotions, while her Instagram and Facebook pages also include numerous touching tributes to Beatrice.
Libby is currently campaigning to have the number of antenatal scans increased – something which has been shown to reduce the incidence of stillborn babies (you can sign a petition here).
Furthermore, the couple, who live together in Stourbridge, have already raised a four-figure sum for the hospital ward where Beatrice was born. With the money, a cooling cot was purchased to allow parents and stillborn babies more time together.
More recently, a Staff Vs Pupils memorial cup in Beatrice's name has been awarded at the famed Old Swinford Hospital school.
And this week a moving poem penned by Ms Martin and entitled Lost was shared on her blog. It has already garnering significant traction online.
“I wrote it because I wanted others to realise why those who have lost a child will always struggle,” the Beatrice's mother revealed in conversation with Huff Post Parents.
“People don’t think about it in this way, they just think about how sad it is that you’ve lost a baby.
“When, actually, the hardest thing about it all is the promise of everything you’ve lost.”
You can read the moving poem below:
LOST
A baby, a daughter, my child.
Hugs, kisses and love.
Dirty nappies, sleepless nights.
Putting her above
Everything else. Everything.
Her laughing. Her cry.
Thinking of answers
When she asks “but…why?”
Her eyes - what colour? Her smile.
Her walking; her first word.
The way her face lights up
The first time she sees a bird.
Hearing her say “Mummy”.
Him answering to “Daddy”.
Deciding what to do when
She has her first paddy.
Colouring and drawing.
Her first portrait.
Dance shows and sports days.
Teaching her how not to hate
Her body. Hanging out
And painting nails. Cuddles.
Dog walks in wellies.
Jumping in puddles.
Shopping for her first bra.
Teaching her to bake.
Helping her to write a CV.
Showing her how to make
The things my Mum taught me.
Watching her and being proud.
Telling her during sleepovers
Not to be too loud.
Allowing her mistakes.
Broken hearts and tears.
Watching her grow and learn
Throughout her years.
Looking at her and seeing myself.
My baby. My best friend.
Wishing that my life with her
Will never ever end.
Meeting her partner.
Graduation.
Our little chats from our home
To the train station.
Dress shopping for ‘The One’.
Her telling me I’m a Nan.
Just being there for her,
Always telling her she can.
I have lost my baby
And that is awfully sad.
But what you probably don’t realise -
It’s why I still feel so bad -
Is that that isn’t all I’ve lost.
Every hour, every day,
I lose something new.
I so wish there was a way
That we could see all the things
That she would’ve done
And meet the wonderful woman
She would’ve undoubtedly become.
