Recently I heard someone explain the pain after losing a child like a contraction during labour. You know it's going to come and it hits you of out nowhere. You can't stop it from coming. You can only hope that it is over quickly. That the pain will subside. That you will have someone beside you to hold your hand and tell you it's going to be OK. That you will have time to prepare for the next contraction to hit. The rise and fall of emotions. The intensity of the pain to lessen. You can't do anything to stop the pain. You can only learn ways to manage it and learn to live with it.
I feel like Im right in the middle of one. It has come from nowhere. I cant function. I dont want to do anything. I just want to be. Be still. I just want to let the world go by and sit and dream of a time when she kicked in my belly when her big brother would wrap his little arms around me. The moments I held her close after she was born. When I kissed her nose. When I whispered in her ear.
I just miss her. I really miss her.
Ive learned to realize that this is grief. This isnt depression. Im not depressed. Im just a mum who misses her child and is grieving. This is grief.
We released our very special lip balms today that will be added to each of our Gift Of Hope Support Packs. It is something sacred to my memories and time with Yasminah.
I found out I had fibroids at my first ultrasound with my first pregnancy.My mother had had them and had to have a hysterectomy. The doctor had said not to worry. I was so happy to be pregnant. My husband had never wanted children and finally he relented after my need for them became ever consuming. At 18 weeks I became very sick with flu like symptoms and developed an incredible pain in my left side. Quickly the pain became so localised and intense I couldnt move without crying in misery. No one could look after me and sent me to my local country hospital. No one knew what was wrong with me until a locum gyno from Sydney worked it out that I had an extremely rare condition of a red degenerated fibroid. This is when the placenta of the baby forms directly over the fibroid and competes for blood supply. When the supply is cut off from the fibroid, the fibroid degenerates and rots. This is extremely rare. What happened next was lke a nightmare. I was in hospial for weeks on pethadine to help with the pain and I wasnt treated with antibiotics as you would imagine when your body starts to break down, but was sent home. Two weeks later I went into toxic shock. I started to convulse and I went blue. My hysterical family called the ambulance and when I got to the hospital they said an hour later and I would have been dead. All I could think about was my baby. Please god, please god, please god save her. This wasnt her fault. By this time I was 23 and a half weeks pregnanant and I had been induring five weeks of unimanginable agony. I didnt care but prayed to hold out for my baby to survive. I knew NSW wouldnt help my baby until at least 24 weeks. The country hospital in its wisdom decided to ambulance by road rather than air vac. This took over three hours rather than 20 min by air and by the time I got to the metropolitan hospital, my body was expelling everything to stay alive. They wouldnt save my baby as I was too toxic so they induced labour. I was 3 days away from the NSW law saying they would try save my baby. By this time I was delirious with infection and had no choice. My husband went for over 24 hours to drive there before our little girl was born. She took 10 hours to die in our arms as she was three days younger than the cut off period to legally send to the nic u! I cant get over her death an it is now four years ago. Please rally NSW law to give these little people a chance. Nsw recognises them legally from 20 weeks. Please help them try and survive from this time if something goes wrong. I saw Adelina struggle for life for hours and no one legally would help her. Please help change the laws. I look at her photo everyday. She was so beautiful. Please help change the minimum age to help survive laws!
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry you are having a particularly rough day today Bec.
ReplyDeleteI've always felt my own grief has been like a big wave in the ocean, where suddenly, out of nowhere, it tumbles over the top of me and I'm being desperately being thrown about and trying to come up for air. It's funny how when I read your analogy, I could see the similarities between the two.
I think the sentiment behind the lip balm is wonderful. You are a very thoughtful lady!
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I appreciate your entry today. It has provided an understanding for me and an insight of what is yet to come. My son was born January 12th just over 4 weeks ago. He was 20 weeks early and lived only 2 minutes. I just returned to work this last Monday, (I am a teacher) and I have faired pretty well until this morning. I started out very edgey towards my husband and then towards my students then a wave or "contraction" began to swell within me and before I knew it I was turning my back on the students and fighting back the tears. It has been touch and go all day since then. I miss him dearly and ache for the chance to hold him and kiss him.
ReplyDeleteThanks Kate I always value and appreciate your support x x
ReplyDeleteTrulieunique Im so sorry for the loss of your son. What was his name? Take each day as it comes, no two days will ever be the same and it really is like learning to live all over again. Thinking of you and here if you need any support x x
Hi Adelines mummy. Im really sorry for the heartbreak and awful experience you had and that more couldn't be done to save her life. Please email me at rebecca@ygoh.org.au to discuss this further as I would love to help you
Bec x