Est. read time – 7-8 minutes.
Little Frankie Costello, born prematurely after 26 weeks, died at the Norfolk and Norwich University Hospital on 18th June.
Mum Holly Littlefield was immediately introduced to two representatives from EACH, who visited from The Nook. She had the opportunity to gather some memory pieces, including taking ‘incredibly precious’ hand and foot casts of her son, and continues to receive weekly contact from the wellbeing team.
“Two people from the hospice came to visit while I was in hospital, and they were so incredibly kind and gentle,” said Holly, who was speaking on the first day of Baby Loss Awareness Week – a special awareness week running until next Wednesday which culminates with a global Wave of Light. Participants light a candle, sharing photos on social media to commemorate babies who have died during pregnancy or after birth.
“What I’ll always remember is the way they spoke to Frankie. Nothing was rushed, and it was as perfect as it could possibly be, with the casts presented to us in a beautiful box with a big blue bow. When I touch them, it feels like I’m holding his hand.
“I never knew such a thing existed. I had no reason to know, but now I’ll tell anyone who wants to listen. Until you’re part of that world, there’s no reason to know, but I think people should have more awareness and realise a hospice isn’t just about end-of-life care.
“It’s about so much more and I’m constantly telling people about EACH. All my family and friends know how passionately I feel, and The Nook is one of the few places I feel safe and comfortable.”
One of the EACH representatives at the hospital also attended Frankie’s funeral and has remained in supportive contact.
“He was the only person I wanted to speak to, and I feel I can open up to him,” said the 26-year-old, from Eaton. “Because he was one of the few people who met Frankie, I feel I’ll always have a deep and special connection with him. He’s someone I can say anything to, and he helps me get through things.
“I know if I’m having a particularly bad day, in my darkest hours, I can pick up the phone, and I don’t know what I’d do without that support.”
Holly has also attended events at The Nook, including a barbecue especially for bereaved parents and the recent Memory Day.
“Meeting other parents has always been helpful for me, because at the time you think you’re the only person in the world going through such a horrendous thing,” she said. “Coming here has made me realise that isn’t the case and I’m not alone.
“I’ve become particularly close with one mum, and we call and text each other every day. We’ve become friends because we understand the pain of losing a baby. It’s so sad, and we should never have met. Our paths shouldn’t have crossed, but, in the circumstances, I’m so glad they did. That’s only been possible through EACH.”
Holly says she has always been aware of EACH, having been into the charity’s shop in Bowthorpe. However, she had no idea of the extent of the charity’s work and, at the time, never dreamt it would become such a pivotal part of her life.
Her first two children, Darcie, seven, and Grace, six, were both born without any complications, but Holly suffered hyperemesis gravidarum – severe nausea and vomiting – after falling pregnant with Frankie in January.
She was in and out of hospital and then, after 15 weeks, spotted traces of blood after going to the toilet. A scan revealed a clot on her placenta, but she was assured it would pass through her system and everything would be OK.
Holly and partner Jack – a grounds worker who, in a cruel twist of irony, helped build The Nook – continued to plan for the future, and a scan revealed the couple were having a boy. They felt their family was complete, having previously had two girls, and had a gender reveal party, complete with balloons and confetti.
“Our son was going to be the first boy in our wider family for 12 years, so everyone was very excited,” said Holly. “I was too, despite the sickness, and never dreamt things would go so wrong. However, that’s exactly what happened, and our world came crashing down around us after 19 weeks.
“I woke up one morning and the bed was soaked through. The bedding was drenched, and, at first, I thought I’d wet myself, but then I noticed blood. I rushed to hospital and, within five minutes, was taken into a separate room, at which point I knew something was wrong.
“I had preterm premature rupture of membranes, a condition where the waters break early, and was told I was going to give birth in the next 48 hours. However, they wouldn’t be able to save my baby. They said he’d either die inside me or come out and not survive. There was basically no hope.”
Amazingly, thanks to one last pocket of amniotic fluid, ‘Frankie the fighter’, as his proud parents call him, defied the odds and stayed in situ for another seven weeks.
Things were far from straightforward, though. Holly describes it as a ‘horrendous’ period, spent largely in hospital, but the longer Frankie stayed inside, the more hope she developed things might be OK.
She was discharged on 5th June, but, the following night, went to bed in agony. The pain in her stomach was excruciating. Holly and Jack rushed back to hospital, and, incredibly, Frankie was born 17 minutes later. The couple were unable to see or hold their baby, although they heard him make one tiny whimper. He weighed just under 2lb.
“I eventually saw him after 45 minutes and was able to give him a kiss on the head before he was rushed to the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU),” she said. “He was tiny – the size of my hand – but a good weight for a baby born at 26 weeks. Even so, I was warned he might not survive his first night.
“Against the odds, he continued to keep fighting, and I was allowed to hold him after six days. Soon he was able to breathe on his own, and he was doing better than everyone thought. I was eventually told to go home, rest and recover, but, after 11 days, we got a phone call at 6am. I knew it was the hospital and knew it wasn’t going to be good news.
“Frankie’s blood pressure had dropped. He had Necrotising Enterocolitis (NEC), which is a gut disease common in premature babies, and needed emergency surgery. Fluid was leaking from his gut, and he developed gram-negative sepsis as a result.
“We sat by his incubator and could literally see his little body swelling. I was desperate to hold him, but all we could do was reach in and hold his hand. I remember he was boiling – so, so hot because of the infection.”
The following morning, Holly and Jack were told Frankie’s kidneys had shut down. The sepsis was attacking his organs, and there was nothing more the hospital staff could do. Holly was finally able to hold her baby, and they took him to the Meadow Suite – the hospital’s Midwife Led Birthing Unit (MLBU).
“It meant we could have some time alone with our baby. His breathing tube was removed, and we had 12 minutes together before he passed in my arms,” said Holly. “He and I stayed together for three days, with him in a cold cot to help preserve his body. I felt I’d lost him twice – first at the beginning, when they said he’d only live for two days, and then again now, and it was devastating.
“Telling the girls was the worst part. How do you begin to tell two little girls their brother is going to live in the sky?”
Family and friends were asked to wear bright clothing and release balloons in Eaton Park, following Frankie’s funeral.
Holly is not scared to admit the months since have been a struggle. She has dark thoughts about her own existence and says she would not have coped without EACH.
“Every night I sit down with Frankie’s ashes and feel close to him,” she said. “I sing a song and read the same story I used to read to him in NICU.
“EACH has helped me enormously, and my only regret is I wish we’d come to The Nook as soon as Frankie passed, rather than staying in the Meadow Suite. Everyone was kind to us there, but it’s just so peaceful at the hospice and such a different environment to a busy hospital.
“Coming here since has meant the world, and it’s given me somewhere special to visit, rather than being at home on my own.
“As well as things like the bereavement groups and barbecue, my girls have been part of special sibling days, and we all came to the Family Fun Day in August. It’s allowed them to meet other children in a similar position, and they didn’t want to go home.”
As part of the global Wave of Light next Wednesday, EACH is inviting families to come together in a virtual event to reflect, remember and stand alongside others who have experienced the loss of a baby. There will also be an opportunity for families to meet at The Nook and share in a memory-making activity this Sunday.
Holly says Christmas will be hard, although she plans to include her son as much as possible. “I’ll be putting a present under the tree for him, and I’ll always make a cake on his birthday,” she said. “I always sign cards with his name in, and I’m not going to pretend he never existed.”
After the most traumatic and emotional of years, Holly and her family finally have something to look forward to as they have been offered a trip to Disneyland Paris gifted by the charity Magic Moments.
“Incredibly, I got the phone call on the same day I’d picked up Frankie’s ashes,” said Holly. “It’s amazing when I think about it, because I gave birth in a nightie with Mickey Mouse on. Frankie also had two Mickey Mouse toys in his coffin, and the first thing I ever bought him, when I found out I was having a boy, was a Mickey Mouse toy.
“It’s every child’s dream to go to Disneyland, so this is Frankie’s gift to his sisters. He’ll always be their little brother – it’s just he’s not here anymore. It’s been such a sad year, but this gives us a happy end. It’s a sign, and he’ll be there with us in spirit.
“None of it would be possible without EACH. Everyone here has been so supportive. I never feel truly happy anymore, but The Nook is our safe space where I feel at peace and close to Frankie.”
Published in October 2025
