She came to us for support following the death of her son and after many months decided that she wanted to help others that were going through the loss of their child.
It's 2am and I have been awake over an hour since your bloody inconsiderate father came to bed and woke me.
And I'm thinking of you.
You should be inside me, you should be warm and safe and cocooned away for a few weeks more.I'm sorry, darling boy, that I couldn't keep you safe. I'm sorry you were poorly. I'm sorry that this caused me to lose you and I'm sorry that I left you alone.
I loved you from the moment that those 2 lines appeared. I loved you from that instant. I wanted to keep you safe and loved until you were ready to meet us.
I was so excited.
I was so excited for my little family to be complete. I was so poorly, Jonah. I couldn't eat, I could barely drink, I would wake in the night sick as a dog and still I would go to work.And then I felt you moving. I felt you moving inside of me and it all seemed better, the sickness was worth it and I tried to force something down so that you were getting some nutrients.
I tried so hard for you, Jonah.
I didn't want you to be poorly, I didn't want you to suffer because I was struggling. I felt so sick that I wondered how I could carry on. I was exhausted, I couldn't go outside.And then a tiny kick. And I knew you were alright.
Except that you weren't,Jonah, and I had no idea.
I had no idea that you were so poorly.
She scanned me, it seemed like it was taking forever. She told me she was looking at your brain "please have a normal brain!" I said, not knowing.
I looked at you, on the scan. I looked at your brain and even I could see something was wrong, no, I thought, it's just you, you can't read ultrasounds.
"There is a problem with baby." She said eventually, after showing us everything, even your adorable little feet. She left us for a moment and I looked at your dad and shook my head. I started to cry.
No one expects bad news, no one.
She asked us if we wanted pictures and I said no. I was wrong to say no, Jonah. I was wrong, but I was in shock.
The consultant came straight away, we sat in the little room next to the scan room and I cried. I told her I didn't want her to see me cry.
I never cry.
She offered me a tissue.
She told us your prognosis was poor, that someone would call...We drifted back to my car. The main road was closed and I just wanted to get home. The one time I just want to get home. I tried to ring my mum, no answer. Emma text me "is everything ok?" "No." I replied. I hadn't wanted to tell her that way but I didn't want to call. "What?" I text my mum to ask where she was. She knew then, she must have. She rang me and I sobbed. "Just tell me, just speak" she told me when I couldn't get my words out, "I'm going to lose the baby", I think I said, I can't remember "oh Bluebelle," she said, "oh darling". She rang me from the car and I told her again so that my dad (a doctor) could hear. "We're coming".
She drove home, left my dad there and she came alone.We sat in shock. My dad waited at home for my sister to come back from work. He told her. I don't know what he said. I don't know how she reacted.
"I'm sorry" she said tearfully on the phone. I had rung work too, in tears. "Oh god, I'm so sorry" my manager said. "That's twice in a week I've rung you crying" I said, through tears.
You jiggled. You told me you were there.
I went for scans, appointments. I waited for phone calls, anxious. More anxious than I have ever been.
You died on a Tuesday afternoon.
I carried you for two more days, knowing that Thursday was the last day you would be inside me. I knew you had died, I knew you were there. No more kicks or swooshes. But I knew. I noticed a new stretch mark. I was actually starting to look pregnant, unlike with your brother. I rang delivery suite on Thursday, waiting anxiously for a time to go in. After what felt like forever, they said 3pm and we waited anxiously. Your grandpa turned up while I was asleep at about 1. He came up to me. Your dad was smirking when he came in and I didn't know why, and then there was your grandpa. He is a lovely, kind, devoted man.
Your auntie drove us to the hospital. We waited at the desk on delivery suite, no one was there. A nice midwife came eventually and took us to our room, a special room, away from everyone else. It had a kettle and a TV.It was posh.
The midwife came a couple of times, the doctors needed to see us, she said, but they were busy in theatre. I nodded, I'm a nurse, I understand. She brought us sandwiches and put them in the fridge. I sent your dad to the shop. He bought us cookies, crisps...Eventually the night shift started. I still hadn't seen anyone. I was fed up. I wanted to meet you. The night midwife was kind, she was reassuring and supportive. Eventually the doctor came, and prescribed me some pessaries to start me off.It could be a long wait.
I doubt it, I thought, I laboured fast with your brother, slowed only by an epidural, it was exactly 12 hours from them breaking my waters. The pessaries were inserted. The gas and air was ready just in case. I watched Grease! Live. On Netflix. The pains started with discomfort. I was texting my sister, Emma and a girl from my wedding forum. I couldn't decide if they were contractions or not. I couldn't get comfortable. It was freezing in there. I buzzed for a blanket but the lady didn't come back. I buzzed again. I was in pain. They were close together. The kind midwife bought in two heaters. I asked for some pain relief, in anticipation of the pains getting worse. She got me paracetamol and dihydracodeine.
I rolled my eyes but I accepted. When she came back I told her the pains were very close together. She said she would sit with us and see. I told her there was a minute of pain and a minute off. Then suddenly, it was too bad to talk. Within ten minutes, I reckon. I bit the gas and air. I breathed deeply. I heard the weird noise it makes, I breathed out slowly. I felt drunk, thinking of Donald Duck, I don't know why, it's the noise and the mouthpiece I think. I counted in my head, to calm myself. I writhed. I lay on my side. I grabbed your father at some point, I don't know when, he had been happily watching TV with headphones in. I suddenly felt something.
"I'm pushing I think," I cried, "I don't know." I'd never felt pushing before, "I'm frightened". "Don't be frightened," she soothed, "it's alright". There was a gush. I felt you slide out of me. "The pain has gone." I said. I knew you were there. I felt another push and something slid out. "It comes in waves, you know that" she told me. I told her again that it was gone. I felt euphoric, as you do when you have pushed a small human out of you. "If I start to see baby, I will press this buzzer for someone to come." I nodded. She looked under the sheet, "baby is here". She told me. So was my placenta. I was drenched, I was worried Flopsy was ruined, but she told me she had saved him from the waters.
The other midwife wrapped you up and took you.
I couldn't see.
I asked for my stockings off. I was drenched. I told her I was fast. Just over 2 hours since the pessaries. You were born at 23:55. I got up when they left. I waddled to the bathroom to clean up. Blood everywhere. I stripped the bed and we sat together on the sofa, whispering, deciding if we should see you. I was scared, scared of seeing a tiny, delicate you. I still felt the same, I still felt excited. I wanted to see you. They dressed you in a tiny green cardigan to match your bunny, and a little white hat. They wrapped you in a white blanket and put you in a Moses basket. I didn't want to see your defects. I was scared to. She placed you on my knee, and there you were.
My tiny, perfect little angel.
You looked like you were sleeping, you looked so much like your brother. She showed us your feet, "he's got the most gorgeous little feet" she had said. We sat together, looking at you. "I want to stroke his face" I said. I did, you were cold, soft, but cold. Your dad wanted to as well, but he was scared. I guided his finger to your face. I so wish I had kissed you now but I was frightened to move you. I don't remember what we said to each other. I just remember that when she came back I asked her to take you, before you lost colour. I wanted to remember you asleep, pink... We got in to bed.
Your dad got a whole sofa bed to himself and I was most aggrieved. I lay on the bed, I could hear some woman screaming like a banshee and the doors creaking loudly every time someone passed. She came back with a memory box. She turned the lights out. I didn't sleep. I couldn't. I was texting to let our closest family and my best friend know that you had arrived.
I was happy. You were beautiful.At 7am she came with injections and something to stop my milk coming in. She introduced the day staff, but since we were free to go, I just wanted to leave.My sister came for us.
We left quickly. The midwife passed us as we waited in reception. We waved. Your dad got a costa but I don't think he wanted it really. We drove home, like nothing had happened. My mum had made us sausage sandwiches. Your brother was excited to see us, he squealed loudly in his high chair.
And you were gone.
My head went in to meltdown, tormented with grief, guilt, isolation. My best friend arranged the cremation, made sure he had the bunny we had bought him with him at all times. I had one to match. I squeezed it tight, when I needed it, hoping he could feel my cuddle too. The funeral directors were kind, they looked after him when I couldn’t. They kept him safe. And then I realised. He was gone. I was empty. There is only one way to end the stigma of termination for medical reasons.
Talk about it. Raise awareness.
No comments:
Post a Comment