The little things

Its the little things that I often find the hardest. The things that should just filter into my mundane and steady life without incident, packing for a week away, making dinner, washing clothes - it is all so much harder than it should be simply because it is so normal.

Going away with my parents, 4 adults will fit easily in a car and yet this simple fact is so heartbreaking that when I thought about it, the pain hit me so hard that I had to rush to hug my husband to avoid the panic attack that I knew would want to come. I should have been tearing my hair out trying to work out what to take for Isaac, nappies, food, clothes, pushchair - even writing the list makes me sad; all the things I won't take because Isaac is no longer here.

Being able to do things that others take for granted is just awful - each time I go out without needing to arrange a babysitter, I can get drunk without worrying, each day that I go to work . I so want to have the running around that comes with a child, feeling tired, stressed and desperate for a spare moment. I feel so cheated when i read statuses on Facebook complaining about motherhood - I guess its harder looking at people with innocence who don't know what its like to lose the single most important thing in the world, to have your body turn into a coffin  and question everything you did over 8 months - well its just heartbreaking.

I struggle with parents who complain about their children, I struggle with my good friends with postnatal depression - I get so angry and want to shout at them and tell them I'll swap with them, I want to say to people "A bad day huh? let me tell you about my bad day - which would you like first? the day I found out that my sons heart had stopped beating inside me? when my whole world started crashing down around me and I had to tell my parents who were on holiday that their first grandchild had died, or how about the day I gave birth to my first child - Oh but he had already died; or how about leaving hospital and having to leave my child behind? or Isaac's funeral? watching his Daddy carry him in his tiny white coffin and the leaving his coffin behind." I know its not fair to feel angry at them but I do sometimes and I hope they would understand why Im angry; Im not really angry at them or at anyone - I'm angry at the missed opportunity, and envious of the late nights and dirty nappies. I'm angry that my child is dead, its such a final word and I barely use it but he is gone forever and I wish to god it wasn't so.

You aren't supposed to lose your baby at 36 weeks and 4 days, its supposed to be safe then - he was supposed to be safely tucked inside my belly growing big and strong, I wasn't prepared to lose him - not that any parent is ever prepared to lose a child, but if I'd lost him at 12 weeks - I would have been prepared, it had happened to my friend when she had her 12 week scan so I knew to expect that; but I was in the home straight - planning on breaking up from work, getting ready to nest.

Tonight i've lit a candle for my lost boy, hoping he'll find his way to shine over us tonight.

Fathers day

Fathers day


Its fathers day today and it has really made me look at my family again; my husband in particular. On mothers day I was a wreck, I literally could barely breathe from crying; the empty feeling that follows me quietly during the day was huge - a physical presence in the room. I could feel it pushing down on me and I just wanted to lie there and let it crush me; I knew it would hit me hard and i'd been building upto it. I couldn't imagine how you could have a mothers day - live through a mothers day when you were empty, and only had a lost child to celebrate with.


I remember my husband being really angry with me for being so distraught; and I kept saying to him "it's my day, it's mothers day - you will have fathers day to behave however you want"


Today is fathers day and the only thing he has asked of me is to not acknowledge fathers day for him at all; he didn't want a card, he didn't want a present. He said "its just another day without him" and has soldiered on with his strength that these days is a major feature of him.


A strong man. I never thought of him as strong; I always thought of myself as the strong one - the one who coped, and soldiered on through everything. Its awful but I never saw my husband as strong - he drank too much, he smoked too much and did things that made me sad. But when Isaac died - I fell apart; and it was him that had to call everyone and organise everything. He has been holding me up ever since; even today I had to sit quietly at the yard and cry, he is a wonderful father - he'd have been so wonderful with Isaac - I know that he'd have been absolutely hopeless with discipline, he would have been firmly wrapped around his finger and he would never have gone without; it would have always been me that had to say "he doesn't need another toy" and be the baddy.


I watch him often when he thinks no one is watching; those quiet moments when he stops and lets the cracks show. Often when he's in the greenhouse or the kitchen - I watch and see the sadness creep onto his face and then he notices me and he's all smiles and hugs; while I cry and he hugs.


I was angry with him for being so strong until I spoke to my friend about it; he sees being strong as his job - that's how he gets through; he didn't just lose his baby, he had to watch his wife lose herself and I couldn't do it well, or dignified - I had to let go completely; I wish I'd been able to do better and protect him from some of the grief I went through,but he saw and still loved me regardless - people all stay that I am strong; to have soldiered through my loss without losing my mind but I don't know that I am strong - I think strength is the Daddy's that have lost little one's, hat not only survive their loss but help their wives through their loss.


I see little things in my mind - Daddy with Isaac sorting breakfast out , i can see him now with isaac in a highchair and Daddy explaining how to cook and what mummy likes to eat; I can hear him crying and Daddy leaping up to go and see what's the matter and I would be saying "he's ok, leave him" and Daddy would be saying "Oh Mummy, he just wanted a huggy"  - It always makes me wistful for what should have been when I think of the bits we miss - I ride my horse without having to negotiate Daddy having Isaac, without rushing up and being very quick.


When you lose a child, you don't just miss your baby - you miss the parenthood that you are missing out on; and that your partner misses out on too. Its not just that when you lose a child though is it? its like dropping a pebble in the pond and watching he ripples spread out - to parents; grandparents, uncles, Aunties, great Aunt's and friends. I miss knowing what Isaac would be doing now; I try not to imagine and as I have no other children I genuinely don't know. I dont know when he would have said his first word, what it would have been. When do babies start walking and crawling? i dont know and unless I have a rainbow baby I dont want to know. Even when I will have missed - my first childs first steps; his first words - I sometimes think my rinbow baby is going to be something very special, they will never replace Isaac but boy - those firsts are going to be something very special.