I slowly got used to our new routine but little did I know that Stuart was planning a surprise of his own, he wanted us to formalise our family by getting married. It took two proposals before I finally said yes. The first time wasn’t long after we met and I disappointed Stuart by saying no. Stuart and I regularly disagree about how it happened. He says, ‘It was our first Christmas together and I decided to go for it, I knew I loved you and I wanted you to be my wife. I thought it would be mega-romantic to buy a packet of chalky love hearts and find the sweet that says “marry me” – I ended up having to buy four packets before I eventually found the one I wanted. But instead of throwing the rest of the sweets away and getting rid of the evidence, I fed them to Michael and he promptly threw up, I never seem to learn when it comes to that boy and sweets! I’d bought you a bracelet and put the love heart inside the box, wrapped it all up and put it under the tree. On Christmas morning, you unwrapped it and went silent, I couldn’t work out if that was good or bad as you are rarely lost for words! Eventually you looked at me and said no – I couldn’t believe it. You later explained that you thought it was too soon, as we had only been dating a few months and I had just moved in, and you didn’t want to rush things. Though I seem to remember you kept the bracelet!’
I always joke that he kept following me round the kitchen, standing behind my shoulder as I was trying to do Christmas dinner, saying, ‘Will you marry me?’ over and over again. We laugh about it now but I know it must have taken a lot for him to ask, and it was very romantic. But I felt it was all a bit too soon, especially as Stuart had just become a part of Michael’s life. I didn’t want to rush into anything. Things had been great but I was always aware that something could spring up to do with James and send me hurtling back three steps – we hadn’t been in that situation at the time Stuart proposed and I was very aware that could change things. I am amazed that he was prepared to ask me again, but he did a year later and the second time it involved going to see a Michael Jackson concert. Stuart remembers, ‘I knew I wanted to do it so I got in touch with a friend of ours who helped me to find the perfect diamond ring. He told me that he would get me tickets to the Wembley concert and book us a nice hotel so that I could do it in style. So you, me and Michael went to London and Norman came to the hotel to hand over the ring. We were all in the hotel lobby and I said I needed the loo so that I could get a proper look at the ring without you seeing it, so I said to Michael, “Do you want to come with me?” So off we go and Norman shows us the ring – it’s the perfect size and looks beautiful, Michael is there taking it all in and I don’t think anything of it. We go to sleep and the next morning we wake up and discuss what we are going to do that day and Michael pipes up, “Show Mum the ring.”
‘I bluster away trying to throw you off the scent by distracting Michael and I make the mistake of saying, “What are you talking about?” So Michael answers, “That ring that the man gave you, the sparkling one, show Mum.” I was cringing inside but luckily you were easily distracted when I came up with some nonsensical story about having spotted a ring in a shop window the day before that I’d pointed out to Michael. You were more excited about seeing Michael Jackson than talking about jewellery!
‘We went to the zoo for the day and then had dinner in our hotel. Even though it was quite posh they cooked chicken nuggets for Michael and gave him balloons. He started blowing up the balloons and letting them go all over the restaurant – people began to complain and you were mortified. I could feel you getting more and more stressed and I knew I had to get on with it, so I took your hand and asked you to give me the onyx ring on your finger so that I could have a look at it. I will never forget your face. If looks could kill, I certainly wouldn’t have survived that night. You looked like you wanted to swing for me. I remember you said through gritted teeth, “Our Michael is causing havoc and you want to look at my bloody ring, what’s the matter with you?!”
‘You gave me the ring and I deliberately dropped it on the floor. At this point you were about to combust and hissed, “What ARE you doing?!” I quickly slid down on one knee and, holding out the ring box I’d had in my pocket, said, “Would you do me the honour of being my wife?”
‘You were totally shocked and looked at me as if I had lost my mind. It was like a comedy sketch, you staring, me stuck down on one knee and a waiter standing in the corner, unsure if he should pop open the champagne or not. Embarrassed, you soon begged me to get up, not realising you still hadn’t given me an answer, so in the end I handed you the ring and told you to put it on if you wanted to marry me!’
Of course I said yes, and now, alongside my children, Stuart is the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I am thankful every day to share my life with such a strong and loving man. Our family is everything to me and the thought of being his wife was wonderful. By the time he proposed again, I felt confident that he’d seen the best and the worst of me, and that he was fully aware of what he was taking on.
We decided to have a big white wedding. My first one had been a really small and quiet affair; this time, after everything that had happened, I wanted to celebrate how far we had all come.
I set about planning the big day and loved every minute. It was really important to me that we had a church wedding but, because I’d already been married and divorced, it was hard to get permission. In the end we had to go to the Bishop of Liverpool for special dispensation – he was brilliant. Because of everything that I had been through with James he could see that the religious aspect was important to me.
It was a hectic time and, right in the middle of it all and a few months after the miscarriage, I realised I was pregnant again. There was so much to juggle and my emotions were all over the place. I was delighted about the new baby but we had a wedding to plan and I was still coming to terms with Michael’s new-found independence at school. I started to feel overwhelmed again and my emotions threatened to get the better of me. Instead of panicking, I had to remind myself that a lot had happened since James had died and I hadn’t really given myself any clear space to grieve. Instead I lurched from one hectic situation to another, particularly as I carried on fighting to keep Thompson and Venables locked up where they belonged.
We decided to push the wedding back slightly as I didn’t want to be a pregnant bride. We booked it for 12th September 1998, three months after the baby was due. It was ambitious but I made sure everything was sorted before the pregnancy advanced too much. I definitely picked my dress while I could still fit into it! I decided to go the whole way and have the big white gown and veil. We would have bridesmaids and ushers and I was particularly excited by the fact that Michael would wear a miniature version of Stuart’s top and tails. I asked my brother Gary to give me away, we would arrive in a horse and carriage and our first dance would be to Michael Jackson’s ‘You Are Not Alone’.
My pregnancy progressed well – this time around I was too busy with Michael to spend lots of time worrying. I think now that I’d managed two good pregnancies and births, with James and Michael, the possibility of Kirsty’s stillbirth happening again seemed less likely and further away from the front of my mind. This would be my fourth baby but I still felt all of that excitement, particularly as it was Stuart’s first baby. Although he treated Michael like his son, I knew it would be different for him watching my pregnancy progress and then being there when I gave birth. Michael was fully formed when Stuart met him, he would be there for this baby from the very start. I felt more secure this time around knowing he was right by my side too.
But none of that stopped the deep-rooted anxiety. I worried about how Michael would adjust – he had always come first and was used to my undivided attention. Soon there would be a new baby who needed me and that would be a big change. As the pregnancy progressed I found myself thinking, What if the new baby has colic like James and screams for hours on end, how will we cope? How will I make sure that Michael doesn’t feel pushed out? How will I feel, seeing Michael becoming a big brother
and knowing that James had been denied that chance? Will having another baby feel like one more step away from my old life and from James? All these questions would swirl around in my head and I tried my best to shut them out and enjoy my family.
Because I’d had a caesarean with Michael, it was decided we would do the same again this time around. I was a bit concerned about the recovery time and managing the new baby and an energetic Michael, but it made sense, and knowing what was happening and when helped to manage my anxiety. Stuart and I made sure that Michael felt fully involved throughout the pregnancy and talked to him all the time about the baby. He was five years old, so at the age where he understood what was happening. He would put his hand on my tummy to feel the baby kick and howl with laughter when it did. He was genuinely so excited at the thought of having a baby brother or sister and would sit on my lap and chat to my bump. It was a lovely time but, as always, my thoughts would turn to James and what he was missing. I went to the cemetery to put flowers down and tell him all about the baby. It still shocked me that that was the only way to communicate with him but I was determined to make him a part of our growing family. I never wanted to feel I was leaving him behind.
As my due date arrived, we made the now familiar trek to the Fazakerley Hospital. Thomas Stuart Fergus was born on 8th July 1998 at 7:47 am, weighing 5lb 7oz. He was handed straight to Stuart for those precious first minutes and I couldn’t stop looking at them – it was such a wonderful moment. I know Stuart was overwhelmed seeing his son come into the world, he was so emotional as they pulled Thomas out, and also concerned that everything had gone well. I was impatient to get back to my room and wait for Michael to arrive so he could meet his little brother for the first time. I made sure we did everything properly – we had bought Michael a present from the baby and I put Thomas in his cot next to my bed so I had my arms free to hug Michael. Suddenly I heard him thundering down the corridor, impatient to meet the baby we had spent months telling him about. His little head popped round the door and he came straight over to the cot and stroked Thomas’ hand and hugged me, and that was it – Thomas was welcomed into the family and settled right in. We were a family of four and that felt bittersweet and completely wonderful all at the same time; because, of course, James should have been there with us and we should have been a family of five.
Life at home settled down very quickly and Michael became my perfect little helper, there wasn’t a bit of jealousy at all. I would ask him to fetch me a nappy if I was changing Thomas or get me a clean bib if he’d been sick. Michael was so protective – he loved being involved and grinned as soon as he was given an instruction. One of the first things we did was tell him that he was grown up enough to give Thomas his bottle. We sat them on the sofa, Thomas all propped up with cushions and Stuart around the back supporting his head, and Michael proudly fed him. He was so pleased with himself, although he soon grew bored with the back rubbing when he had to wind Thomas – that was the end of that!
All my babies have been different, James was the only one to suffer from terrible colic, Michael was calm and Thomas was even more relaxed. We used to joke that we didn’t even know we had him – he was such a good baby that even his crying was silent! One time he had earache and we gave him some Calpol, he slept on the sofa and I kept an eye on him but I later noticed that he had blood in his ear. We took him straight to the doctor and it turned out that he had a perforated eardrum and the doctor said he must have been in agony. He looked at me and said, ‘Hasn’t he been screaming the house down?’ But he genuinely didn’t make a sound so we had no idea anything was wrong.
We were in a sleep-deprived bubble for those first few exhausting weeks, and before I knew it our wedding day had arrived. It was magical to walk down the aisle and feel genuinely happy. I could see so many smiling faces, so many people who had been there in my hour of need. People were delighted that I had found my perfect husband and I felt on cloud nine. Michael stole the show with his cuteness as ring bearer during the ceremony, and then at the reception with his dance moves. Baby Thomas was there to share the day, even if he was too tiny to have a clue about what was going on. The one sadness, apart from James not being there, was that my mum missed the big day.
Her health had steadily declined since the deaths of my dad and James, I suppose life was never the same for her – it was too much loss and grief for her to handle. By the time our wedding day arrived, she’d had a stroke, was bedridden and had to be fed by a tube. We tried our best to get her to the church, even finding a big white taxi that could transport her wheelchair, but it was too much for her. I was devastated that she wasn’t there to see my happy day. We had the ceremony and went on to the reception but I couldn’t settle, I needed to see her. I persuaded Stuart to leave our wedding reception and drive me to the nursing home so she could see me in my dress and be part of the day, even from afar. So in we wandered, me in a full wedding gown, Stuart in the full top and tails, we must have looked insane! By that time she couldn’t talk anymore but she still made sure she was heard – suddenly she pointed straight at Stuart and wagged her finger twice. I know that was her way of telling him that he’d better look after me and would have to answer to her if he didn’t. He couldn’t escape!
A month after the wedding Mum deteriorated and spent her final days in hospital. We would all go up and visit in tag teams, making sure she was never alone. I was distraught to see my mother dying, we had been through so much and I was also losing another link with James. Chatting to the nurses the day after she died, they told us that, as Mum was taking her last breaths, some of the patients were asking about the little boy who had been running up and down the corridor. The nurse was telling us that she kept explaining there was no little boy, that the ward was no place for small children. But two of the patients were adamant, they said, ‘We definitely heard a little boy running along the corridor, he was hilarious and full of energy running up and down the ward, skipping and jumping.’ I said to Stuart, ‘That’s the way James carried on, do you think it was him, that he was here to be with Mum as she died so they could go together?’ It turned out that the two patients had heard the child running around at the exact time my mother passed away – it was as if James had come back for her. I like to think he was there as she breathed her last, so that she wasn’t alone like he had been.
That wasn’t the only occasion I felt James had come back to check up on us at this time. One night, Stuart and I were watching Titanic on the TV in bed and Michael and Thomas were asleep in their own rooms. We always left the landing light on just in case one of them woke in the night to use the bathroom. At the end of the film, I heard one of the kids shout, ‘Muuuuummmmm.’ I told Stuart to go as it was his turn, so he got up to do a check. We both heard someone call my name but the kids were out for the count, mouths open and in deep, deep sleep. In a way I wasn’t surprised: the little voice sounded just like James, the way he used to drag out my name at the end and I was convinced it had been him. We also get lots of white feathers, which I am certain are a sign my boy has been to visit. I like to think he comes to check in and be part of everything.
Chapter 21
My Voice
Stuart has always been really hands on and loves everything about being a dad, which was just as well really as, a few months after Thomas’ birth, I realised we were having another baby. We would have two children twelve months apart – I had no idea how we would cope but we were excited and a bit scared! The nine months passed in a flash and I had no time for the endless scans and worries that had occupied my previous pregnancies. Before I knew it, and almost a year after we had welcomed Thomas into the world, we were back at the same hospital having Leon Gary Fergus. He came into the world on 5th July 1999 at 12:30pm, weighing 4lb 14oz, and our family was complete.
My overprotectiveness remained just as intense, despite the fact there were more children to worry about. At night I used to keep both babies downstairs with me until I was ready for bed, and now and again Stu
art would say, ‘Take them up to their beds, it’s not fair on them they are so tired.’ So I would carry them up but then I’d be up and down all night checking on them every five minutes – I found it so stressful. We had baby alarms, pressure pads, you name it we had it. They were so close in age it felt like having twins really, and when I put them both in our bed they would sleep in the exact same way, holding their toys in the same hand, fingers curled over the top.
The two younger boys primarily slept in with us until they were two years old – going from Moses baskets (the same one I had bought for Kirsty and that James and Michael had slept in) to cots at the end of the bed before eventually moving into their own room.
My anxiety surrounding the kids got worse if there was something legal happening with Thompson and Venables – it would bring all the feelings of powerlessness flooding back, and I would end up clinging on to the boys even more so than usual. It was particularly tricky around the time that I was expecting Leon as the legal business with Tom Loflin refused to go away. He had been working behind the scenes with Venables and Thompson’s legal teams to take their case to the very top – the European Court of Human Rights at Strasbourg.
I Let Him Go: The heartbreaking book from the mother of James Bulger Page 18