Our story begins at conception; I got pregnant on the very first try. From that moment on, I was already filled with love for the child who was about to be born. Her and I were a team from the very beginning. During labour, I whispered to my belly, “Sweetheart, it’s time. We’re doing this together, you and me.” Because she was born in 2020, only one person was allowed to be present. That was my mother. She helped bring my daughter Lumi Rose into the world. And there she was, a beautiful baby girl with an Apgar score of 10/10/10. Perfectly healthy. At least, that’s what we thought.
The labour in the hospital had initially gone smoothly, although it was unexpectedly fast and there was no time for the pain relief I had requested. So I gave birth to her naturally and I was completely overwhelmed by the pain. Just when I thought that it was all over, the real ordeal began. I was struck by intense abdominal pain and felt an overwhelming urge to push, but there was nothing left to push. My baby and the placenta were both delivered. When I cried out in agony yelling that something was very wrong, a nurse told me to “calm down” and “stop screaming because you’re frightening the other mothers.” From there it quickly went downhill. An endless amount of blood poured out of my body, and I could feel myself slipping away. It took two hours of bleeding before action was taken, and they rushed me into emergency surgery to clear my uterus. The doctors found a little piece of placenta that remained attached, and my body had been desperately trying to expel it on its own. I barely survived and I had lost three litres of blood. They told me that if I had given birth at home, I would not have survived. I was ghostly pale and incredibly weak and I needed multiple blood transfusions. But I had also become a mother, to the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen. My greatest wish had come true.
A few months later, I was still recovering and the progress was slow. The sleepless nights and my attempts to breastfeed left me more than exhausted. I was mostly just surviving, though I had tremendous support from family and friends who came by every day to help. Because of the hormones and the lack of sleep, I also started to have certain, scary thoughts. Looking back, I now know that these were intrusive thoughts. Because no matter what ordinary, everyday task I was doing, I kept imagining something terrible would happen to my baby. Combined with my near-death experience after giving birth, this led me to seek help. After a few EMDR sessions, things improved significantly. I felt calmer and more at ease. Neurofeedback also helped me, because it creates new pathways in the brain, allowing old thought patterns to gradually fade into the background while restoring a sense of balance. It can be effective for a wide range of mental health challenges, and I can truly recommend it.
Getting Sick More and More Often
As Lumi grew, she became ill more and more frequently. And not just occasionally, or with a regular cold. It was almost chronic. She was constantly, seriously ill. Her normal body temperature was often around 36°C (96.8°F). Yet every time she developed a fever, it would climb to nearly 42°C (107.6°F). She struggled to breathe and had difficulty sleeping. It often seemed as though she simply couldn’t get enough air. For countless nights over many months, I listened to her breathing, checking whether and how she was still breathing. Then came the asthma, infections, different allergies, food sensitivities and the constant doctor’s appointments. This became our new normal. I could barely make social plans anymore because there was always something wrong, Lumi was always ill.
Night after night, I scoured the internet searching for answers. The sense of helplessness and powerlessness was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I did everything I could to help her feel better, yet nothing seemed to truly make a difference. She looked pale and often had dark circles under her eyes. Then shortly after her first birthday, she spent five days in the hospital with double pneumonia. At the time, doctors attributed it to her sensitive airways. Looking back with all the knowledge we have now, all of these symptoms would actually stem from a fatal heart condition.
To relieve what appeared to be sleep apnea and her chronic ear infections, her adenoids were removed and tubes were inserted into her ears. Once again, it became a new hospital trauma for a little girl who had already endured multiple distressing examinations, treatments and hospitalizations. Once again, I did everything in my power to help her feel okay afterward and to process the trauma together. Lumi stayed at home with me during the first year of her life and later she would spent a few months with a childminder. When the childminder stopped providing care at home, she entered an actual daycare. She always cried when I dropped her off, and she would cried again when I picked her up. I could see the relief in her face when she could finally come back home with me, to her safe little haven. Lumi was a sensitive little girl. I could see that from the very beginning. Sensitive to crowds, sounds, food, creams, clothing you name it. I never stopped trying to make life as beautiful and manageable as possible for her. I was constantly adjusting things, experimenting with one solution after another, until I found something that finally worked. Because she was sick so often and spent much of her life either in bed or on the couch, she learned to walk a little later than most children do. Around 19 months old, she took her first steps. And I was so proud. My sweet little girl. My strong little soul. What a strength and perseverance you have.
The Move
It was the end of 2022. A few months earlier, we had been informed at work that major changes were coming. I worked in the national mental health care institution. It was work I loved to do the most. I adored all my clients that I had the privilege of guiding and supporting. When the news came that everything was about to change, something shifted inside of me. Having been born and raised in Finland, my heart had always belonged there. Every summer when I visited my family, I felt truly happy and at peace. And at the same time, I could see that Lumi was not getting any better. Nothing I did, none of the treatments or medications, seemed to drastically improve her condition. Countless times I had explained to the doctors that something was seriously wrong, yet my concerns were always brushed aside. Despite repeatedly listing all her symptoms, for example; her chronic cold hands and feet, a pale complexion, poor circulation, and little to no growth, nobody seemed alarmed. For the last two years of her life, she wore the same clothing size. How could this possibly be considered normal for what they described to me as “a healthy child, but perhaps just a little fragile?”
I knew I had to change course, for myself, but even more so for my daughter. We needed peace. A place to breathe. Some beautiful nature around us. I put our apartment in Holland up for sale, and it was sold within two weeks. I was then given six months to find our dream home in Finland. And then I found it. In January 2023, I fell in love with a house I had found online. Deep down I knew it would be our forever home. A few weeks later, I flew to Finland to see it in person, and I made an offer on the spot. We then said goodbye to everything and everyone, to my family and my closest friends. My colleagues and clients. The neighbours, the daycare. We were leaving it all behind. Onwards to a new beginning!