So last night I went to see James Bond with Carl. Quite an honour really. He talks with such reverence about his grandad who is no longer here. They used to go and see the films together and watch them on video together.
He told me last night when his grandad got ill he would go and see the films himself, then buy the DVD and watch it with his grandad.
So I felt quite honoured to share that with him. Maybe it meant nothing to him, but for myself it was such a privilege to share in that and create a memory to go along with the ones he has of his grandad.
For me it was on a par with me taking him to a farm, a love of nature and animals that I share with my grandad. It was nice to build a memory with him and Josh to go along with the ones I have with my grandad.
I was quite sad when he had to leave this morning. Knowing I wouldn't sleep next to him for a few nights was sad. I miss him when he's not around. And today... Today I need him.
Today I've got the letter through about contact.
Paul's contact with Josh is to start on the 1st of December. The day before Josh's birthday. I'm having to re-arrange however, since Josh won't actually be here. I can't see that going down well. But what can I do?
I'm pretty conflicted about all this. It's going to be hell leaving Josh with total strangers. I just want to run away. I want to pretend this isn't happening.
I feel like I've totally failed Josh. I made choices wrongly. Choices that could have stopped all this happening.
But then, maybe it wouldn't. I don't know. I don't know how Paul's mind works. I just feel sick.
My doomsday clock has started counting now. 5 weeks and 1 day til the date as it stands.
And all this comes the day before I'm supposed to be 12 weeks pregnant.
I know it's crazy, but I bought a white candle today. For Babyness. I'll light it for her tomorrow. White is pure, white is innocence.
Crazy I know.
It's hard to believe its been 4 weeks since we found out. Nearly 6 since we lost her.
It seems to have passed in the blink of an eye.
I still miss her with every breath I take. My arms ache for her. I would give much just to hold her and tell her I love her. And to see Carl hold her. His little princess. He is a wonderful dad to Joshua. But Josh was 3 months old by the time they met. He missed that precious newborn time with him.
I would give him that first moment with his child. I hold that memory so dear with Josh. I would give him that first look at the face he'd waited 9 months to see. The face he recognises from a dream. The eyes he sees as his own. The hair he knows is his.
To feel her breathe in his arms and know she arrived safe. To hear her newborn wail and let out the breath he'd been holding for 9 months.
For that I would give much. He deserves that. Like Babyness he is innocent in this. He didn't deserve this pain. He should be grinning madly, telling everyone he is going to be a dad. Not having to tell people I lost the baby.
Life is cruel. It punishes innocents.
But supposedly we are made stronger.
I'm looking up from my knees. I am not strong. I am broken.
Saturday, 27 October 2012
Friday, 26 October 2012
Today
Today is crazy. Most of my days are crazy lately.
The word of today is heartsick.
That's how I feel. My grief is a sickness, and it is infecting me and my life.
My days are blurry and my nights are long.
Today I'm going to the cinema. Today I go pick up my little boy, who's absence these last 2 days has slowly eaten a hole in my heart.
Tonight I will stare at the ceiling and wonder.
Every time I think I'm starting to feel better, something comes and knocks me back.
Today is crazy.
I feel empty. It's hard to believe people can move on from this. We survive, but we will never be the same.
It's hard to believe that Babyness exisited. She was a secret in my mind. But the pain in her absence is shocking.
I'm quite a hard person, I cry over stupid things like films and songs. But when it comes to life I'm quite hard. Death doesn't affect me. People die and I keep on going.
But this... this is agony. Why? Why my daughter.
Paddy Doherty, the gypsy wrote in his book about his oldest son being killed. He wrote that everyone asks 'why me' but he thinks 'why not me. What makes me so special'
That really struck with me. I often think that when people complain 'why me' Well, why not you? Why are you so special.
And even now, I can think 'why not me?' What makes me so damn special? Millions of women lose millions of babies. So why not me?
But what bends my head more than anything. Why Babyness? An innocent child, why her?
If there is some great force controlling our lives, why give an innocent child a life, a heartbeat, and then snatch it away again. What is the point in that?
That pain left behind is just hell. There is nothing I can do to ease it. It's not actual pain, I can't just chuck some paracetamol down me and carry on.
I can't move away from it, like you do with a break up. It hurts for a while then you pull yourself back together and get back out there.
I can't endure it, I don't think. Unlike labour pains, I can't breathe through it and know it will fade in a minute.
It's a constant agony. An open wound. And I don't see how I can heal from it.
Today is crazy...
The word of today is heartsick.
That's how I feel. My grief is a sickness, and it is infecting me and my life.
My days are blurry and my nights are long.
Today I'm going to the cinema. Today I go pick up my little boy, who's absence these last 2 days has slowly eaten a hole in my heart.
Tonight I will stare at the ceiling and wonder.
Every time I think I'm starting to feel better, something comes and knocks me back.
Today is crazy.
I feel empty. It's hard to believe people can move on from this. We survive, but we will never be the same.
It's hard to believe that Babyness exisited. She was a secret in my mind. But the pain in her absence is shocking.
I'm quite a hard person, I cry over stupid things like films and songs. But when it comes to life I'm quite hard. Death doesn't affect me. People die and I keep on going.
But this... this is agony. Why? Why my daughter.
Paddy Doherty, the gypsy wrote in his book about his oldest son being killed. He wrote that everyone asks 'why me' but he thinks 'why not me. What makes me so special'
That really struck with me. I often think that when people complain 'why me' Well, why not you? Why are you so special.
And even now, I can think 'why not me?' What makes me so damn special? Millions of women lose millions of babies. So why not me?
But what bends my head more than anything. Why Babyness? An innocent child, why her?
If there is some great force controlling our lives, why give an innocent child a life, a heartbeat, and then snatch it away again. What is the point in that?
That pain left behind is just hell. There is nothing I can do to ease it. It's not actual pain, I can't just chuck some paracetamol down me and carry on.
I can't move away from it, like you do with a break up. It hurts for a while then you pull yourself back together and get back out there.
I can't endure it, I don't think. Unlike labour pains, I can't breathe through it and know it will fade in a minute.
It's a constant agony. An open wound. And I don't see how I can heal from it.
Today is crazy...
Thursday, 25 October 2012
Life
Life is a very odd thing. People always say its too short, but really its the longest thing you will ever do.
There are various thoughts about when it begins.
Myself, life begins with a heartbeat. I've read different medical ideas about when this is, some say 3 weeks gestation, others 5 or 6. I like the idea of 3 weeks. So I'm going with that. I know for a fact my Babyness was alive when she died. She had a little beating heart and a future planned out for her. Unfortunately it was a very short future.
I like to think, at 3am when I'm staring at my ceiling listening to Carl breathing and Joshua snuffling in his sleep, that she knew how much she was loved.
I often think, when I'm talking about her that I'm putting an awful lot of pressure on a 6 week old embryo. But its not the physical body I'm talking about, it is the spirit. The spirit is ageless and timeless. My Babyness most definitely had spirit. How could she not? She was my child and I am one of the most spirited people my nearest and dearest have ever met (their words, not mine)
She was her daddy's child. Although he is quietly spoken and keep his opinions to his self he has maybe the most spirit of anyone I have ever met. I can count on one hand the amount of times I've heard him shout. But he is truly like steel. He has an inner confidence that says he is totally at peace with who he is as a person.
He awes me. I envy him that confidence. I am not at all happy with who I am as a person, from my appearance, to my actions. I would re make myself in a heart beat. But I am as I am and I cannot change most of it. But I'm not happy with it.
So, as our child, she would have had true spirit. And, as a grieving mother I like to think she knew how very loved and wanted she was and still is.
I ask stupid things of her, as if she is my gaurdian angel. I ask her to watch me and her daddy and guide us through this hell. I talk to her as if she is a real person.
One day I will explain to my son that his sister dances on the clouds and that she is watching over him.
My Babyness's life ended rather suddenly. I don't know what caused her little heart to stop beating. I do know she was dead before I lost her though. I have to believe this with conviction, anything else is too horrific to even consider.
For the most part though, life continues into old age and then any manner of things might end it. Of course, and manner of things could end life at any point.
People say your life is ended when your heart no longer beats. Medical professionals say it is when the brain ceases to function. But for the most part, lack of a beating heart means lack of life.
I have to disagree with that. Life can end at any point and the body can endure. Life ends when the spirit leaves.
My nan is 79 years old. She has lived a hell of a life! Much too long to detail here, but she has seen true horror and done some remarkable things.
Medically she is very much alive, allbeit ill. But she is dead. Her life has ended. Her spirit has left. She finds no joy in life anymore. Nothing reaches her, not even my son. She is simply waiting for her body to catch her spirit up.
I often wonder what she sees during her days, she rarely talks to anyone, prefering to sit in her own little world. I wonder if she sees her family, her youth, her children, her husband as he was on thier wedding day.
But her life is most definatly over. She, and everyone else is just waiting for her to die now. It is a slow torture. We will mourn her when her body is no longer with us. But we cannot enjoy the winter of her life, because she has already left us.
I would give much to give my son the nan I had in my youth. I cherish those memories more now than ever.
The point is, life is too short. It is the longest thing I will ever do. But it is too short to be unhappy.
I lost 3 years of my life in an unhappy relationship. 3 years. Gone in what seems like a blink now. I can't remember the 17 year old I once was.
By contrast, I have lost 7 months in the blink of an eye because I am so happy. Carl lights up my world. We share jokes and stories and a life together.
I would much rather arrive at the end of my life thinking 'thats gone quick!' that disparing over all the things I never had the chance to do.
I might die tomorrow. At 21 years of age.
My last thoughts on this earth would be that I am glad I had my son when I did. I'm glad I didn't wait. He has brought me 10 months of joy. I'm glad I left Paul and started enjoying my life again. I'm glad I met Carl.
There would be regrets, of course. But trivial ones. I try very hard not to regret the choices I have made. And boy have I made some BAD ones.
I don't regret getting together with Paul. I've learnt who I am through that.
I don't regret moving in with him. It was a venture into freedom.
I don't regret having a baby with him. My son is beautiful. Genetics have made him so.
I don't regret leaving him. We would have destroyed each other.
I don't regret putting his name on Joshua's birth certificate. Joshua deserves to know where he comes from.
Some other trivial things others think I should regret...
I don't regret my peircings. I like them, I like the way they make me look.
I don't regret my tattoos. They tell a story of my life.
I've just found out Paul has a new gf...well they are engaged now. And honestly, I'm happy for him. I can't be sure how real his love is, because I have heard all the things he says to his partner. But I am happy. I hope she can love him for who he is.
The relationship I had with Paul was destructive. We brought out the absolute worst in each other. He is a very unhappy person, going back a long way. He makes other people unhappy because they don't understand him.
I wish him no ill will at all. Even after everything has been said and done. I hope he has found someone who loves his flaws. He derserves that. He's messed up and misguided.
I'm worried what this means for Joshua. Selfishly I want to cut Paul out of our lives and have Joshua grow up with Carl as his father. I want my own family unit, where Paul is not a part of that.
I tell people Paul doesn't care about his children. But I don't honestly believe that. I think he does love them, but he doesn't know how to put them first.
He messed up badly with his first son, being more concerned about his rights as a father than his son's wellbeing. He wanted 50% control over his son's life and when he couldn't have it, he got angry.
He did much the same over Josh, wanted 50% control and when I wouldn't give it, he got angry. I made the choice to cut him out of our lives. I don't regret it.
He surprised me being going through with taking me to court. That tells me maybe he does love his son.
Joshua was concived under a mutual lie. He said he loved me. I said I loved him. We spoke of a family together. But I don't think either of us meant it.
But I know he views Joshua as the outcome of our 'love' and isn't prepared to give up on him. He spent most of my pregnancy with me and had time with Josh when he was born.
The most diffiult thing to try and grasp is that Paul doesn't know how to have a relationship with anyone, any sort of relationship. He needs control, craves it. He cannot function without some form of control.
90% of people are like that, but we can have control over ourself and our lives and be happy with that. But Paul needs total control over everyone. And he will not get on with you unless he can have that. You must be prepared to do what he says when he says it. Go out, come home, go to his house anything.
He is damaged. No other way to say it. His upbringing has damaged him so very badly.
So I worry, what will happen when he can't control Josh? Will he get angry? Stop seeing him?
This is Joshua's life. The things that happen to him now with shape him for the future. I need him to feel safe and secure.
I don't know what will happen to him if he is made to have 2 seperate families.
I'm frightened...
And my life is too short to feel frightened.
I just wish I had the answers.
There are various thoughts about when it begins.
Myself, life begins with a heartbeat. I've read different medical ideas about when this is, some say 3 weeks gestation, others 5 or 6. I like the idea of 3 weeks. So I'm going with that. I know for a fact my Babyness was alive when she died. She had a little beating heart and a future planned out for her. Unfortunately it was a very short future.
I like to think, at 3am when I'm staring at my ceiling listening to Carl breathing and Joshua snuffling in his sleep, that she knew how much she was loved.
I often think, when I'm talking about her that I'm putting an awful lot of pressure on a 6 week old embryo. But its not the physical body I'm talking about, it is the spirit. The spirit is ageless and timeless. My Babyness most definitely had spirit. How could she not? She was my child and I am one of the most spirited people my nearest and dearest have ever met (their words, not mine)
She was her daddy's child. Although he is quietly spoken and keep his opinions to his self he has maybe the most spirit of anyone I have ever met. I can count on one hand the amount of times I've heard him shout. But he is truly like steel. He has an inner confidence that says he is totally at peace with who he is as a person.
He awes me. I envy him that confidence. I am not at all happy with who I am as a person, from my appearance, to my actions. I would re make myself in a heart beat. But I am as I am and I cannot change most of it. But I'm not happy with it.
So, as our child, she would have had true spirit. And, as a grieving mother I like to think she knew how very loved and wanted she was and still is.
I ask stupid things of her, as if she is my gaurdian angel. I ask her to watch me and her daddy and guide us through this hell. I talk to her as if she is a real person.
One day I will explain to my son that his sister dances on the clouds and that she is watching over him.
My Babyness's life ended rather suddenly. I don't know what caused her little heart to stop beating. I do know she was dead before I lost her though. I have to believe this with conviction, anything else is too horrific to even consider.
For the most part though, life continues into old age and then any manner of things might end it. Of course, and manner of things could end life at any point.
People say your life is ended when your heart no longer beats. Medical professionals say it is when the brain ceases to function. But for the most part, lack of a beating heart means lack of life.
I have to disagree with that. Life can end at any point and the body can endure. Life ends when the spirit leaves.
My nan is 79 years old. She has lived a hell of a life! Much too long to detail here, but she has seen true horror and done some remarkable things.
Medically she is very much alive, allbeit ill. But she is dead. Her life has ended. Her spirit has left. She finds no joy in life anymore. Nothing reaches her, not even my son. She is simply waiting for her body to catch her spirit up.
I often wonder what she sees during her days, she rarely talks to anyone, prefering to sit in her own little world. I wonder if she sees her family, her youth, her children, her husband as he was on thier wedding day.
But her life is most definatly over. She, and everyone else is just waiting for her to die now. It is a slow torture. We will mourn her when her body is no longer with us. But we cannot enjoy the winter of her life, because she has already left us.
I would give much to give my son the nan I had in my youth. I cherish those memories more now than ever.
The point is, life is too short. It is the longest thing I will ever do. But it is too short to be unhappy.
I lost 3 years of my life in an unhappy relationship. 3 years. Gone in what seems like a blink now. I can't remember the 17 year old I once was.
By contrast, I have lost 7 months in the blink of an eye because I am so happy. Carl lights up my world. We share jokes and stories and a life together.
I would much rather arrive at the end of my life thinking 'thats gone quick!' that disparing over all the things I never had the chance to do.
I might die tomorrow. At 21 years of age.
My last thoughts on this earth would be that I am glad I had my son when I did. I'm glad I didn't wait. He has brought me 10 months of joy. I'm glad I left Paul and started enjoying my life again. I'm glad I met Carl.
There would be regrets, of course. But trivial ones. I try very hard not to regret the choices I have made. And boy have I made some BAD ones.
I don't regret getting together with Paul. I've learnt who I am through that.
I don't regret moving in with him. It was a venture into freedom.
I don't regret having a baby with him. My son is beautiful. Genetics have made him so.
I don't regret leaving him. We would have destroyed each other.
I don't regret putting his name on Joshua's birth certificate. Joshua deserves to know where he comes from.
Some other trivial things others think I should regret...
I don't regret my peircings. I like them, I like the way they make me look.
I don't regret my tattoos. They tell a story of my life.
I've just found out Paul has a new gf...well they are engaged now. And honestly, I'm happy for him. I can't be sure how real his love is, because I have heard all the things he says to his partner. But I am happy. I hope she can love him for who he is.
The relationship I had with Paul was destructive. We brought out the absolute worst in each other. He is a very unhappy person, going back a long way. He makes other people unhappy because they don't understand him.
I wish him no ill will at all. Even after everything has been said and done. I hope he has found someone who loves his flaws. He derserves that. He's messed up and misguided.
I'm worried what this means for Joshua. Selfishly I want to cut Paul out of our lives and have Joshua grow up with Carl as his father. I want my own family unit, where Paul is not a part of that.
I tell people Paul doesn't care about his children. But I don't honestly believe that. I think he does love them, but he doesn't know how to put them first.
He messed up badly with his first son, being more concerned about his rights as a father than his son's wellbeing. He wanted 50% control over his son's life and when he couldn't have it, he got angry.
He did much the same over Josh, wanted 50% control and when I wouldn't give it, he got angry. I made the choice to cut him out of our lives. I don't regret it.
He surprised me being going through with taking me to court. That tells me maybe he does love his son.
Joshua was concived under a mutual lie. He said he loved me. I said I loved him. We spoke of a family together. But I don't think either of us meant it.
But I know he views Joshua as the outcome of our 'love' and isn't prepared to give up on him. He spent most of my pregnancy with me and had time with Josh when he was born.
The most diffiult thing to try and grasp is that Paul doesn't know how to have a relationship with anyone, any sort of relationship. He needs control, craves it. He cannot function without some form of control.
90% of people are like that, but we can have control over ourself and our lives and be happy with that. But Paul needs total control over everyone. And he will not get on with you unless he can have that. You must be prepared to do what he says when he says it. Go out, come home, go to his house anything.
He is damaged. No other way to say it. His upbringing has damaged him so very badly.
So I worry, what will happen when he can't control Josh? Will he get angry? Stop seeing him?
This is Joshua's life. The things that happen to him now with shape him for the future. I need him to feel safe and secure.
I don't know what will happen to him if he is made to have 2 seperate families.
I'm frightened...
And my life is too short to feel frightened.
I just wish I had the answers.
Wednesday, 24 October 2012
Children
Children are crazy. Thats all I can say. They are crazy. They turn everything in your world upside down and they are a wonder.
My son is my beating heart. He astounds me every single day.
He was born silently into this world on a dark December evening. He didn't stay silent thankfully. And hearing his first cry was the sweetest sound.
His labour was maybe the only time in my whole pregnancy when I wasn't thinking about his biological father. I'd spent most of my pregnancy worrying about what would happen when he was born between me and Paul (his biological father) But during the 7 hours I was in labour in hospital I was removed from that. It was like being in a bubble.
I'm a bit of a wimp. I have piercings and tattoos, but generally I'm pretty wimpy when it comes to pain. But I found new depths inside of myself. I didn't cry out, I didn't scream. I went into myself pretty much. If I did talk it was in a flat voice, stating something simply or asking for something.
It was wonderful. I can say with utter conviction that I had a birth I'm extreamely happy with. I delievered him myself, even under the threat of intervention. I had next to no pain relief (4 paracetamol and 45 mins of gas & air)
No one, unless they are a parent themselves can understand the sheer terror you feel when your baby doesn't cry. Even as a parent who has experianced that, I couldn't explain to to anyone else. It's like someone has thrown cold water over you. You just freeze. Your entire world stops dead. I saw my son born on the bed and heard nothing. No one had prepared me for that. I knew there were issues, but I thought he was fine.
My midwife moved as though someone had struck her with lightening. Before I could even open my mouth she had picked him up, cut his cord and whisked him over to the other side of the room for oxygen.
All I could do, as people milled around him, giving him oxygen, cleaning him up, making sure his airways were clear was stare at the space on the bed and ask in a choked voice why he wasn't crying.
Then, the sweetest sound I have ever heard started. He cried, a full newborn wail. I like to think other mother giving birth then heard him and smiled, as I had done the previous hours hearing other babies being born.
They wrapped him in a big white towel with NHS stamped around the edges in blue, put a blue hat on him and brought him over to me.
As he was handed him me, my arms were shaking. I was exhasted. But I gratefully took his weight and held him close to me. He had, and still does have the most beautiful eyes. They were the first thing I saw, big and oh so blue.
My head was just empty the only think I could say to him was hello. Over and over. I looked at my mom, to see tears streaming down her cheeks. "Isn't he beautiful" She agreed that he was.
In time a doctor came to me to explain that due to various things surrounding his birth he would have to be kept in for a couple of days and given some antibiotics. They wanted to start that straight away, while I was being stitched up.
So, after a first cuddle that was not nearly long enough, they took him away for his medication and a doctor stitched me up and let me have a bath and get changed.
My family were called. The news was annouced. The only person not called was Paul.
Again, in time, Josh was brought back to me. My poor little boy, who had been through so much before he was even born had a canular in his arm and a splint. I hated that. That day and the 2 subsequent days he had that in I hated it. Why my little boy. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.
The first night is really hazy. I couldn't breastfeed Josh and he ended up going onto formula. Things were easier then. He was so small, so cuddly. I hated anyone else holding him. I had waited long enough and I wanted him all to myself.
10 months, 3 weeks and 1 day on from that friday night in december and my little cuddly baby is a strapping almost toddler. The things he has learnt in that time astound me. He can now eat and drink from a cup. Stand, almost walk. Sit up, hold things, talk in his own way. The lastest thing is waving. He can wave hello and bye bye. And he understands those words.
He is not a cuddly baby. He is very independant around people he knows. He's happy to go off and do his own thing. I'm glad of that. I want him to be confident.
The only time I get cuddles is if he's with people he doesn't know, he can be quite shy or if he is tired. And I love every second of those moments. He's a very rough and tumble kinda kid. So as a mum, with a soft mummy side, to have him snuggle into me and rub his eyes is the most beautiful thing.
The only time he still looks like the little baby in the towel is when he sleeps. Like all children he is at his most innocent when he is sleeping.
The amount children change in thier first year is incredible. The amount they learn to do is just amazing. To be born as a helpless infant who cannot even support their own head, to a laughing, running, talking child by the time they are one is just mind blowing.
And they learn all that alone. No one teaches them. I didn't teach him how to laugh, or stand, or pick things up. He learnt himself. Incredible.
But truly, more than anything he is my heart. When he hurts, I hurt with him. When he laughs, I can't help but laugh too.
Children are a most precious jewel.
I have made a lot of mistakes in my life. Hurt a lot of people. The situation with Paul is just a bomb crater now. I'm not sure how to patch it up, make it work, do the right thing for Josh.
That keeps me awake a night. I think of a million things I could say, I could do. And I don't know the right path to take.
I wish I could explain to Paul the impact of what he is trying to do. I wish I could change some of the things I have done. I've not made all the right choices.
But I know one thing for certain, my son, my little Joshua Thomas is my beating heart and I will do the best for him, whatever that may be.
He has opened my eyes to the wonder of the world. Everything is new to him, so he treats everything with awe. Beauty is all around him, and he sits in the centre of my world as the beautiful thing in all existance.
My son is my beating heart. He astounds me every single day.
He was born silently into this world on a dark December evening. He didn't stay silent thankfully. And hearing his first cry was the sweetest sound.
His labour was maybe the only time in my whole pregnancy when I wasn't thinking about his biological father. I'd spent most of my pregnancy worrying about what would happen when he was born between me and Paul (his biological father) But during the 7 hours I was in labour in hospital I was removed from that. It was like being in a bubble.
I'm a bit of a wimp. I have piercings and tattoos, but generally I'm pretty wimpy when it comes to pain. But I found new depths inside of myself. I didn't cry out, I didn't scream. I went into myself pretty much. If I did talk it was in a flat voice, stating something simply or asking for something.
It was wonderful. I can say with utter conviction that I had a birth I'm extreamely happy with. I delievered him myself, even under the threat of intervention. I had next to no pain relief (4 paracetamol and 45 mins of gas & air)
No one, unless they are a parent themselves can understand the sheer terror you feel when your baby doesn't cry. Even as a parent who has experianced that, I couldn't explain to to anyone else. It's like someone has thrown cold water over you. You just freeze. Your entire world stops dead. I saw my son born on the bed and heard nothing. No one had prepared me for that. I knew there were issues, but I thought he was fine.
My midwife moved as though someone had struck her with lightening. Before I could even open my mouth she had picked him up, cut his cord and whisked him over to the other side of the room for oxygen.
All I could do, as people milled around him, giving him oxygen, cleaning him up, making sure his airways were clear was stare at the space on the bed and ask in a choked voice why he wasn't crying.
Then, the sweetest sound I have ever heard started. He cried, a full newborn wail. I like to think other mother giving birth then heard him and smiled, as I had done the previous hours hearing other babies being born.
They wrapped him in a big white towel with NHS stamped around the edges in blue, put a blue hat on him and brought him over to me.
As he was handed him me, my arms were shaking. I was exhasted. But I gratefully took his weight and held him close to me. He had, and still does have the most beautiful eyes. They were the first thing I saw, big and oh so blue.
My head was just empty the only think I could say to him was hello. Over and over. I looked at my mom, to see tears streaming down her cheeks. "Isn't he beautiful" She agreed that he was.
In time a doctor came to me to explain that due to various things surrounding his birth he would have to be kept in for a couple of days and given some antibiotics. They wanted to start that straight away, while I was being stitched up.
So, after a first cuddle that was not nearly long enough, they took him away for his medication and a doctor stitched me up and let me have a bath and get changed.
My family were called. The news was annouced. The only person not called was Paul.
Again, in time, Josh was brought back to me. My poor little boy, who had been through so much before he was even born had a canular in his arm and a splint. I hated that. That day and the 2 subsequent days he had that in I hated it. Why my little boy. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.
The first night is really hazy. I couldn't breastfeed Josh and he ended up going onto formula. Things were easier then. He was so small, so cuddly. I hated anyone else holding him. I had waited long enough and I wanted him all to myself.
10 months, 3 weeks and 1 day on from that friday night in december and my little cuddly baby is a strapping almost toddler. The things he has learnt in that time astound me. He can now eat and drink from a cup. Stand, almost walk. Sit up, hold things, talk in his own way. The lastest thing is waving. He can wave hello and bye bye. And he understands those words.
He is not a cuddly baby. He is very independant around people he knows. He's happy to go off and do his own thing. I'm glad of that. I want him to be confident.
The only time I get cuddles is if he's with people he doesn't know, he can be quite shy or if he is tired. And I love every second of those moments. He's a very rough and tumble kinda kid. So as a mum, with a soft mummy side, to have him snuggle into me and rub his eyes is the most beautiful thing.
The only time he still looks like the little baby in the towel is when he sleeps. Like all children he is at his most innocent when he is sleeping.
The amount children change in thier first year is incredible. The amount they learn to do is just amazing. To be born as a helpless infant who cannot even support their own head, to a laughing, running, talking child by the time they are one is just mind blowing.
And they learn all that alone. No one teaches them. I didn't teach him how to laugh, or stand, or pick things up. He learnt himself. Incredible.
But truly, more than anything he is my heart. When he hurts, I hurt with him. When he laughs, I can't help but laugh too.
Children are a most precious jewel.
I have made a lot of mistakes in my life. Hurt a lot of people. The situation with Paul is just a bomb crater now. I'm not sure how to patch it up, make it work, do the right thing for Josh.
That keeps me awake a night. I think of a million things I could say, I could do. And I don't know the right path to take.
I wish I could explain to Paul the impact of what he is trying to do. I wish I could change some of the things I have done. I've not made all the right choices.
But I know one thing for certain, my son, my little Joshua Thomas is my beating heart and I will do the best for him, whatever that may be.
He has opened my eyes to the wonder of the world. Everything is new to him, so he treats everything with awe. Beauty is all around him, and he sits in the centre of my world as the beautiful thing in all existance.
Wednesday, 17 October 2012
Tailing Off
I seem to be tailing off writing this. I'm saddened by that as I find it really theraputic. I shall endevour to keep up to it more though. It does help, even if I talk about other things. It's like clearing space in my head for everything else.
Well, almost exactly 3 weeks on. 3 weeks tomorrow morning and now every single person has forgotten my Babyness. Except me. My heart aches for her. The week after next would have been her 12 week scan. Now no one can even mention her. No one asks how I am. I'm probably being rather unfair to Carl... but he hasn't mentioned it. So I'm not a mind reader. He has his own stuff going on, starting a new job, mates etc. Ugh mates... theres another thing I'm not getting into. I have very different view to other people. Scarily different.
I'm scared of getting pregnant again. Obviously my cycle has been all messed up. I don't know where I am with anything. I'm terrified to get pregnant again. I don't want to be pregnant again. I have mentioned this... but was met with "oh well we'll just deal with it" Will we? Will we really? You might! I won't!
I just feel very small. Small compared to everything going on. Everyone has moved on and is dealing with their own stuff. Some of that I'm expected to deal with too. It's difficult.
Christmas is coming up, I hate christmas. I have a bucket load of christmas presents to buy for people.
I hate the actual day. Sitting around with a bunch of people I'm not keen on, watching them pass round MY son like he's property. It was the same last year. People trying to mother him. I HATE HATE HATE it! My grandad has taken to calling him "my baby" Uhh...he's not yours he's mine! I am his mother. I carried him for 9 months, I gave birth to him, I have raised him. He's mine!
I just want to sleep the day away. I don't feel festive.
I'm sick of feeling like I'm battling people at every turn over how to raise MY child. And he is mine! I am his MOTHER!
And this of course, is all going to intensify by the fact I'm am going back to court with Josh's biological father in November.
That whole situation totally bends my head. He has taken me to court... And WON for the right to see his "child" A child he wasn't interested in when he was allowed to see him.
And now, I will have to let that vile scum take my child away, to his vile family/friends. And I have no say over what happens. No say over who is around my son. No say over any aspect of his life while he is with that... person.
I hate that, I hate the loss of control. I hate that I failed my son. Massivly failed him.
I just feel miserable. That totally sums it up. I'm free falling into depression.
Thats exactly how I feel, its a free fall. I can't stop it. There is no safety net.
What will happen when I hit rock bottom?
How can others seem to enjoy life after this?
Carl went out with his mates & said thats exactly what he needed. How can he do that? Just go out, have fun and forget? HIS FUCKING CHILD IS DEAD!
I don't begrudge him that one tiny little bit, if that helps then great. I wish I could do the same.
This is a free fall.
Well, almost exactly 3 weeks on. 3 weeks tomorrow morning and now every single person has forgotten my Babyness. Except me. My heart aches for her. The week after next would have been her 12 week scan. Now no one can even mention her. No one asks how I am. I'm probably being rather unfair to Carl... but he hasn't mentioned it. So I'm not a mind reader. He has his own stuff going on, starting a new job, mates etc. Ugh mates... theres another thing I'm not getting into. I have very different view to other people. Scarily different.
I'm scared of getting pregnant again. Obviously my cycle has been all messed up. I don't know where I am with anything. I'm terrified to get pregnant again. I don't want to be pregnant again. I have mentioned this... but was met with "oh well we'll just deal with it" Will we? Will we really? You might! I won't!
I just feel very small. Small compared to everything going on. Everyone has moved on and is dealing with their own stuff. Some of that I'm expected to deal with too. It's difficult.
Christmas is coming up, I hate christmas. I have a bucket load of christmas presents to buy for people.
I hate the actual day. Sitting around with a bunch of people I'm not keen on, watching them pass round MY son like he's property. It was the same last year. People trying to mother him. I HATE HATE HATE it! My grandad has taken to calling him "my baby" Uhh...he's not yours he's mine! I am his mother. I carried him for 9 months, I gave birth to him, I have raised him. He's mine!
I just want to sleep the day away. I don't feel festive.
I'm sick of feeling like I'm battling people at every turn over how to raise MY child. And he is mine! I am his MOTHER!
And this of course, is all going to intensify by the fact I'm am going back to court with Josh's biological father in November.
That whole situation totally bends my head. He has taken me to court... And WON for the right to see his "child" A child he wasn't interested in when he was allowed to see him.
And now, I will have to let that vile scum take my child away, to his vile family/friends. And I have no say over what happens. No say over who is around my son. No say over any aspect of his life while he is with that... person.
I hate that, I hate the loss of control. I hate that I failed my son. Massivly failed him.
I just feel miserable. That totally sums it up. I'm free falling into depression.
Thats exactly how I feel, its a free fall. I can't stop it. There is no safety net.
What will happen when I hit rock bottom?
How can others seem to enjoy life after this?
Carl went out with his mates & said thats exactly what he needed. How can he do that? Just go out, have fun and forget? HIS FUCKING CHILD IS DEAD!
I don't begrudge him that one tiny little bit, if that helps then great. I wish I could do the same.
This is a free fall.
Saturday, 13 October 2012
So...
So after leaving this for a few days, I've worked through my issues. I found out this was being shown about and I wasn't sure how I felt about it.
Kinda betrayed, these are my private thoughts and feeling, I put them out here because I wanted to try and help people, or have someone help me. And when I found that out, it was like my mask as it were, was blown apart. If I wanted to discuss these things with people I would, and to find out this was being discussed behind my back was gutting.
I felt like I had to censor myself now, so I didn't hurt the feelings of people who might be reading this.
But after thinking long and hard about it, I've realised I don't care. This is my private thoughts and if people are hurt by what I might need to say then thats their problem, not mine.
So... today i got my tattoo for my angel. As you can see from my picture, I have a star for my son, and I got another star for my angel. This one is purple and shaded, with angel wings behind it and "Our Angel" in the scroll. No DOB obvs. That makes me sad. I was going to get a quote with it, but I think it speaks for itself, and my grief is imprinted in my heart, I don't need it on my skin too.
I wanted the exact same design as my son's, but this one is slightly different and looking at the pictures (it's on my shoulder) I'm glad of that. They are two different people and that needs to show through.
I spent the day with a friend and then went to Leeds to pick Josh up from Carl and bring him home. On the way back I was looking out of the bus window and saw a beautiful sun beam shining through the clouds.
All I could think was that it was Jimmy (drummer for Avenged Sevenfold, died in December 2009) telling me that my baby girl was safe with him.
I hope she is. I hope he's keeping her safe until I can be with her again.
I'm finding myself tormented by images of a dark haired little baby, with dark eyes. I imagine my daughter would have had dark hair. Me and Carl both have dark hair.
The child in this image, is hauntingly beautiful. I can't say she looks like me or Carl, I don't think babies resemble parents, everyone tells me that my son looks like me, but I can't see it.
But this image does torment me. It's like dangling a what if in front of me. But on a sick level, I feel like its the only link to my daughter, and I don't ever want to forget her face.
I'm turning to music a lot more now. Nothing seems to be helping though.
The more time passes and the more people forget, the harder it is to smile.
Talk about my daughter! Don't just ignore her existance.
I'm trying to smooth over the issues I have with Carl's brothers, its not fair to fight with him, just cos he doesn't see things my way and he expected them to behave this way.
But I didn't, regardless of how they act towards him, thats his family, she was my daughter too and she deserves some acknowledgment of her existance.
I guess I shouldn't really be surprised, when neither of them bothered to congratulate us either.
Selfish men with minds of children I guess. But thats a whole other debate I'm not getting into here. Raising children is a difficult art and no one has ever mastered it yet.
I want to scream a million things at the top of my lungs. It's so hard keeping everything inside when I don't have the words to discribe them.
I find myself wishing for a time long past. A time when I was free of responsibilites, where I could go where I wanted and do what I wanted.
Again, tormented by what ifs.
I'm not ready to be a normal mum and gf.
I'm crazy, messed up and that shows through in the music I listen to, the words that come from my mouth and the way I view the world .
Suddenly, theres all this pressure to be "normal" I have a child, so I can't get tattoo's or dye my hair black, or get piercings or listen to the music I enjoy.
I want my son to grow up feeling comfortable in who he is. I don't want bullshit pressure trying to force him into a box.
I stand up and shout from the rooftops I'm crazy and I love it.
But sometimes...I wonder how scarily close to the truth that might be.
No one else can be in my head. No one else will see the world as I do. But people seem very quick to judge. Or to tell me how to deal with things.
I've had another court letter through. I go back to court in novemeber to review contact between my son & his biological father. Contact that hasn't even started yet. How on earth can it be reviewed!?
I'm sick of people telling me "oh he might not bother" or "oh, he'll soon get bored" I'm fucking SICK OF HEARING IT! Yes he might, or he also might not.
Again, people that have no clue about anything trying to tell me how it is. I spent 3 yrs of my life with that person, I think I know him better than you, who have never met him.
It's just... It just is. Thats life.
Sleep when you're dead. Live life to the max.
Or get stuck inside, wishing you were 16 again. before you made a fuck ton of mistakes that led you to here.
I wish I'd lived when I had a chance, I wish I'd got drunk every weekend, fucked every guy who turned my head. Not been the sensible one.
Sleep when you're dead... I'm dead inside, do I get to sleep now?
Kinda betrayed, these are my private thoughts and feeling, I put them out here because I wanted to try and help people, or have someone help me. And when I found that out, it was like my mask as it were, was blown apart. If I wanted to discuss these things with people I would, and to find out this was being discussed behind my back was gutting.
I felt like I had to censor myself now, so I didn't hurt the feelings of people who might be reading this.
But after thinking long and hard about it, I've realised I don't care. This is my private thoughts and if people are hurt by what I might need to say then thats their problem, not mine.
So... today i got my tattoo for my angel. As you can see from my picture, I have a star for my son, and I got another star for my angel. This one is purple and shaded, with angel wings behind it and "Our Angel" in the scroll. No DOB obvs. That makes me sad. I was going to get a quote with it, but I think it speaks for itself, and my grief is imprinted in my heart, I don't need it on my skin too.
I wanted the exact same design as my son's, but this one is slightly different and looking at the pictures (it's on my shoulder) I'm glad of that. They are two different people and that needs to show through.
I spent the day with a friend and then went to Leeds to pick Josh up from Carl and bring him home. On the way back I was looking out of the bus window and saw a beautiful sun beam shining through the clouds.
All I could think was that it was Jimmy (drummer for Avenged Sevenfold, died in December 2009) telling me that my baby girl was safe with him.
I hope she is. I hope he's keeping her safe until I can be with her again.
I'm finding myself tormented by images of a dark haired little baby, with dark eyes. I imagine my daughter would have had dark hair. Me and Carl both have dark hair.
The child in this image, is hauntingly beautiful. I can't say she looks like me or Carl, I don't think babies resemble parents, everyone tells me that my son looks like me, but I can't see it.
But this image does torment me. It's like dangling a what if in front of me. But on a sick level, I feel like its the only link to my daughter, and I don't ever want to forget her face.
I'm turning to music a lot more now. Nothing seems to be helping though.
The more time passes and the more people forget, the harder it is to smile.
Talk about my daughter! Don't just ignore her existance.
I'm trying to smooth over the issues I have with Carl's brothers, its not fair to fight with him, just cos he doesn't see things my way and he expected them to behave this way.
But I didn't, regardless of how they act towards him, thats his family, she was my daughter too and she deserves some acknowledgment of her existance.
I guess I shouldn't really be surprised, when neither of them bothered to congratulate us either.
Selfish men with minds of children I guess. But thats a whole other debate I'm not getting into here. Raising children is a difficult art and no one has ever mastered it yet.
I want to scream a million things at the top of my lungs. It's so hard keeping everything inside when I don't have the words to discribe them.
I find myself wishing for a time long past. A time when I was free of responsibilites, where I could go where I wanted and do what I wanted.
Again, tormented by what ifs.
I'm not ready to be a normal mum and gf.
I'm crazy, messed up and that shows through in the music I listen to, the words that come from my mouth and the way I view the world .
Suddenly, theres all this pressure to be "normal" I have a child, so I can't get tattoo's or dye my hair black, or get piercings or listen to the music I enjoy.
I want my son to grow up feeling comfortable in who he is. I don't want bullshit pressure trying to force him into a box.
I stand up and shout from the rooftops I'm crazy and I love it.
But sometimes...I wonder how scarily close to the truth that might be.
No one else can be in my head. No one else will see the world as I do. But people seem very quick to judge. Or to tell me how to deal with things.
I've had another court letter through. I go back to court in novemeber to review contact between my son & his biological father. Contact that hasn't even started yet. How on earth can it be reviewed!?
I'm sick of people telling me "oh he might not bother" or "oh, he'll soon get bored" I'm fucking SICK OF HEARING IT! Yes he might, or he also might not.
Again, people that have no clue about anything trying to tell me how it is. I spent 3 yrs of my life with that person, I think I know him better than you, who have never met him.
It's just... It just is. Thats life.
Sleep when you're dead. Live life to the max.
Or get stuck inside, wishing you were 16 again. before you made a fuck ton of mistakes that led you to here.
I wish I'd lived when I had a chance, I wish I'd got drunk every weekend, fucked every guy who turned my head. Not been the sensible one.
Sleep when you're dead... I'm dead inside, do I get to sleep now?
Tuesday, 9 October 2012
Feeling Sorry For Myself
So yesterday I went and bought vodka. Today I can safely say it was a stupid idea!
I bought a half bottle and drunk the lot to myself. I was more than a tad drunk. And this morning I felt very delicate and sorry for myself.
It didn't help at all. It made me not think about everything last night, but thats it. And I felt so ill this morning its not worth it. I knew it wouldn't help, not really. But I had to try and do something.
The more time passes the more everyone just moves on. It's not been a week yet and already no one is mentioning it.
My mom called me up today, crying about work. I comforted her, cos thats what you do, but inside I was screaming. Seriously like... really? I've lost a child & your bitching and moaning about a stupid warning at work. Wow, thats really the same! Thank you so much for putting that on me.
I've had my aunt round today, doing what she does best, having sly digs at my parenting.
I am SICK of being the nice guy. I'm sick of doing things I hate for other people, only to have it thrown in my face.
I HATE her being around my child. I'm scared her sense of entitlement will rub off on him & he'll turn into the same spoilt little brat she is.
Y'know...I got up this morning and I felt too ill to still be angry. Now I feel sick I'm so pissed off with the world today.
I can't wait for tomorrow, when Carl gets here and we can shut out the world for a couple of days.
I seriously want people to back the fuck off right now.
I'm still so angry and innocent people are in the firing line instead of the guilty ones.
I want to just run away, run back to before, when I was young and stupid and I could go out to gigs & go drinking & answer to no one. I miss my friends, we've all grown up and grown apart.
I love Josh to absolute death, but I do wish I could go back.
There are things I wish I could do, but I'm stuck now.
Don't grow up, its a fucking trap.
I wish I'd had the situtations in life I have now, when I was younger.
I got trapped in a head fuck relationship for 3 years. I was only 17, so young. I could have spent the last 3 yrs doing as I pleased instead of living in hell.
It's all just fucked up. I HATE feeling like this.
I should have bought 2 bottles of vodka. Thats all I keep thinking. Although... maybe I wouldn't drink so much this time around.
Lesson learned.
I bought a half bottle and drunk the lot to myself. I was more than a tad drunk. And this morning I felt very delicate and sorry for myself.
It didn't help at all. It made me not think about everything last night, but thats it. And I felt so ill this morning its not worth it. I knew it wouldn't help, not really. But I had to try and do something.
The more time passes the more everyone just moves on. It's not been a week yet and already no one is mentioning it.
My mom called me up today, crying about work. I comforted her, cos thats what you do, but inside I was screaming. Seriously like... really? I've lost a child & your bitching and moaning about a stupid warning at work. Wow, thats really the same! Thank you so much for putting that on me.
I've had my aunt round today, doing what she does best, having sly digs at my parenting.
I am SICK of being the nice guy. I'm sick of doing things I hate for other people, only to have it thrown in my face.
I HATE her being around my child. I'm scared her sense of entitlement will rub off on him & he'll turn into the same spoilt little brat she is.
Y'know...I got up this morning and I felt too ill to still be angry. Now I feel sick I'm so pissed off with the world today.
I can't wait for tomorrow, when Carl gets here and we can shut out the world for a couple of days.
I seriously want people to back the fuck off right now.
I'm still so angry and innocent people are in the firing line instead of the guilty ones.
I want to just run away, run back to before, when I was young and stupid and I could go out to gigs & go drinking & answer to no one. I miss my friends, we've all grown up and grown apart.
I love Josh to absolute death, but I do wish I could go back.
There are things I wish I could do, but I'm stuck now.
Don't grow up, its a fucking trap.
I wish I'd had the situtations in life I have now, when I was younger.
I got trapped in a head fuck relationship for 3 years. I was only 17, so young. I could have spent the last 3 yrs doing as I pleased instead of living in hell.
It's all just fucked up. I HATE feeling like this.
I should have bought 2 bottles of vodka. Thats all I keep thinking. Although... maybe I wouldn't drink so much this time around.
Lesson learned.
Monday, 8 October 2012
Anger
Today I am angry. No other way to put it.
Today I am pissed off at the world and his wife.
Everyone seems to have moved on and I'm left, floundering. People have other shit going on. My dead child is irrelevant.
The one that is driving me most wild and is most selfish is my family.
I was told yesterday to "draw a line" under whats happened, otherwise it be become all emcompassing and my life will fail.
Listen lady... my life has already failed! I get out of bed because my son needs me. Not because I want to. I get up because I'm a mother and thats what I do.
All anyone can talk about is my nan. She old, she's hurt herself, but there is nothing WRONG WITH HER! She doesn't need to be in hospital.
But noooo, lets all get wrapped up in her. Lets forget a family member has DIED here. My nan is attention seeking again.
I'm so selfish, but y'know what I don't fucking care. This is my life. It will never be right again.
She doesn't care if we visit her or not. She doesn't care if she's at home or in hospital. So why should I care?
The people who know, my aunt, can only chuck me a "how are you" when she done talking about my nan. My mom is more caring, but she has her own stuff going on too.
It just makes me so angry. If my baby had been stillborn people would fall over themselves to grieve (well not everyone, not if leeds had won the fucking cup a couple of days later) So why, just because my baby was smaller does she not deserve the same. Why do her parents get brushed off & basically told to get over it?
Certain persons who shall remain nameless have almost driven me over the edge. To find out they have said nothing, absolutly fucking NOTHING about the loss of our child has enraged me to the point of explosion. I'm done. Absolutly done. I will make zero effort from now on.
I hate being this angry all the time.
But I hate the way people have reacted.
She matters! She was real! She deserves better than this!
I went and bought vodka today. Walked all the way into town for it too. I wanted the excuse to walk.
Sat drinking it now. I dunno if its such a good idea. I can drink with the best of them. But I just need the release. My mom offered to have Josh so I can really pissed. It's tempting to take her up on it.
I know I won't feel any better. I know it won't change anything. It's just a need I have. A crazy one.
I wish my friends weren't so busy all the time, I'd like to just go out for the day and forget.
Although, one of my good friends is coming over this weekend. I'm gonna go get a new tattoo with her.
I'm going to get a memorial for my angel. I hope it will help me lay things to rest a little. So I can start to move forward.
It's so hard to know where to start, to move forward. As I have said, there is no body to bury. No grave to visit.
So where do I begin? What can I lay to rest for her?
I'm hoping this tattoo, a constant memorial to her will help me. She is my child and she should be marked upon my body like my son.
I don't know if Carl will do anything. I dunno how he is feeling, we've not really talked about it yet.
We're so numb and its just... hard to find the words.
Whenever I try and talk all I can hear is those words in my head. Then I can't find the words I want.
It's so hard.
Today is a bad day.
Today I am pissed off at the world and his wife.
Everyone seems to have moved on and I'm left, floundering. People have other shit going on. My dead child is irrelevant.
The one that is driving me most wild and is most selfish is my family.
I was told yesterday to "draw a line" under whats happened, otherwise it be become all emcompassing and my life will fail.
Listen lady... my life has already failed! I get out of bed because my son needs me. Not because I want to. I get up because I'm a mother and thats what I do.
All anyone can talk about is my nan. She old, she's hurt herself, but there is nothing WRONG WITH HER! She doesn't need to be in hospital.
But noooo, lets all get wrapped up in her. Lets forget a family member has DIED here. My nan is attention seeking again.
I'm so selfish, but y'know what I don't fucking care. This is my life. It will never be right again.
She doesn't care if we visit her or not. She doesn't care if she's at home or in hospital. So why should I care?
The people who know, my aunt, can only chuck me a "how are you" when she done talking about my nan. My mom is more caring, but she has her own stuff going on too.
It just makes me so angry. If my baby had been stillborn people would fall over themselves to grieve (well not everyone, not if leeds had won the fucking cup a couple of days later) So why, just because my baby was smaller does she not deserve the same. Why do her parents get brushed off & basically told to get over it?
Certain persons who shall remain nameless have almost driven me over the edge. To find out they have said nothing, absolutly fucking NOTHING about the loss of our child has enraged me to the point of explosion. I'm done. Absolutly done. I will make zero effort from now on.
I hate being this angry all the time.
But I hate the way people have reacted.
She matters! She was real! She deserves better than this!
I went and bought vodka today. Walked all the way into town for it too. I wanted the excuse to walk.
Sat drinking it now. I dunno if its such a good idea. I can drink with the best of them. But I just need the release. My mom offered to have Josh so I can really pissed. It's tempting to take her up on it.
I know I won't feel any better. I know it won't change anything. It's just a need I have. A crazy one.
I wish my friends weren't so busy all the time, I'd like to just go out for the day and forget.
Although, one of my good friends is coming over this weekend. I'm gonna go get a new tattoo with her.
I'm going to get a memorial for my angel. I hope it will help me lay things to rest a little. So I can start to move forward.
It's so hard to know where to start, to move forward. As I have said, there is no body to bury. No grave to visit.
So where do I begin? What can I lay to rest for her?
I'm hoping this tattoo, a constant memorial to her will help me. She is my child and she should be marked upon my body like my son.
I don't know if Carl will do anything. I dunno how he is feeling, we've not really talked about it yet.
We're so numb and its just... hard to find the words.
Whenever I try and talk all I can hear is those words in my head. Then I can't find the words I want.
It's so hard.
Today is a bad day.
Sunday, 7 October 2012
Remembering
Today I just seem to be remembering a lot.
I've spend yesterday and today with my mom. It's been okay. A welcome distraction. Unfortunatly a lot of time has been spent at the hospital with my nan. The same hospital I was in with Josh & Babyness. Not cool.
But now, finally I'm alone. No mom, no Carl, no Josh. Just me.
It's been sorta messed up, particularly today. I've been so angry. Angry at my nan. Angry at my grandad. How dare they be wrapped up in themselves when my child is dead!
We've taken Josh to my grandads today & I've just been moody and snappy with him. My aunt had left her dog there and I started making digs about it. She and my grandad know I don't trust her dog around Josh & I hate taking Josh when it's there. She does it to spite me I'm sure.
It pisses me off, cos I always make sure my cats are out of the way when she comes to mine cos she doesn't like them.
So I'm pissed off. It's not my nan's fault she's ill. It's not my grandad's. They didn't even know about Babyness. But I'm still angry.
How can other people go on when my world is shattered.
Carl's brother posted on facebook earlier on about going to the stupid rugby ground & posted a pic of him with the Leeds Rhino's manager or something & it absolutly wound me off the clock.
How dare he carry on when his brother has lost a child!
Wow, Leeds won some stupid cup. His niece/nephew is DEAD!
He hasn't even spoken about it. He sat in the same room as me & Carl & his mother discussed it & he didn't say a word. Not even a "I'm sorry"
Ditto Carl's younger brother. I know people don't know what to say, but acknowledge it ffs! Babyness was family to them.
I'm just lashing out I suppose. It's hard to understand why everyone else can just carry on. Why family can just not even acknowledge it. How hard is it to say some words to someone. Even if you don't mean it. They don't know you don't mean it.
Been talking to a friend tonight about alcohol abuse, and self harm, and suicide. Dredged up a few memories tbh.
It takes a lot to fuck you up that badly you want to die at 15. To make you abuse alcohol every single day.
To steal and beg.
To want to die.
To try...
I've been there and it's hell. I didn't know who I was. I didn't care if I never woke up.
And now... I care if I wake up. I have a lot to live for now.
But I want to let this pain out. I want to drink and forget, to numb the pain.
I've thought a lot about this. Going into my kitchen has become a test of willpower. It would be so easy to just...release this pressure.
It's easier to function now I'm not waiting. The waiting killed me. Now its definate, it's not so bad. Well no, its still bad. But I can function.
But even so, at least 5 times a day I will look at a blade and think "it would be so easy" Just a simple matter of pressing it into skin and it's like turning a pressure valve.
I just want to get those words out of my head. To numb them out with vodka. Or cut them out.
I just want to...
"I'm so sorry..."
I've spend yesterday and today with my mom. It's been okay. A welcome distraction. Unfortunatly a lot of time has been spent at the hospital with my nan. The same hospital I was in with Josh & Babyness. Not cool.
But now, finally I'm alone. No mom, no Carl, no Josh. Just me.
It's been sorta messed up, particularly today. I've been so angry. Angry at my nan. Angry at my grandad. How dare they be wrapped up in themselves when my child is dead!
We've taken Josh to my grandads today & I've just been moody and snappy with him. My aunt had left her dog there and I started making digs about it. She and my grandad know I don't trust her dog around Josh & I hate taking Josh when it's there. She does it to spite me I'm sure.
It pisses me off, cos I always make sure my cats are out of the way when she comes to mine cos she doesn't like them.
So I'm pissed off. It's not my nan's fault she's ill. It's not my grandad's. They didn't even know about Babyness. But I'm still angry.
How can other people go on when my world is shattered.
Carl's brother posted on facebook earlier on about going to the stupid rugby ground & posted a pic of him with the Leeds Rhino's manager or something & it absolutly wound me off the clock.
How dare he carry on when his brother has lost a child!
Wow, Leeds won some stupid cup. His niece/nephew is DEAD!
He hasn't even spoken about it. He sat in the same room as me & Carl & his mother discussed it & he didn't say a word. Not even a "I'm sorry"
Ditto Carl's younger brother. I know people don't know what to say, but acknowledge it ffs! Babyness was family to them.
I'm just lashing out I suppose. It's hard to understand why everyone else can just carry on. Why family can just not even acknowledge it. How hard is it to say some words to someone. Even if you don't mean it. They don't know you don't mean it.
Been talking to a friend tonight about alcohol abuse, and self harm, and suicide. Dredged up a few memories tbh.
It takes a lot to fuck you up that badly you want to die at 15. To make you abuse alcohol every single day.
To steal and beg.
To want to die.
To try...
I've been there and it's hell. I didn't know who I was. I didn't care if I never woke up.
And now... I care if I wake up. I have a lot to live for now.
But I want to let this pain out. I want to drink and forget, to numb the pain.
I've thought a lot about this. Going into my kitchen has become a test of willpower. It would be so easy to just...release this pressure.
It's easier to function now I'm not waiting. The waiting killed me. Now its definate, it's not so bad. Well no, its still bad. But I can function.
But even so, at least 5 times a day I will look at a blade and think "it would be so easy" Just a simple matter of pressing it into skin and it's like turning a pressure valve.
I just want to get those words out of my head. To numb them out with vodka. Or cut them out.
I just want to...
"I'm so sorry..."
Saturday, 6 October 2012
Alone
Today, 6th October.
Carl has gone to work today. I'm spending the day and night with my mom. But right now, she's at the hairdressers. Carl is at work. Josh is in bed. So it's me, 2 sleeping cats & Meat Loaf on the iPig.
I've got to go the hospital this afternoon to see my nan. I'm dreading it. I hate hospitals. I don't want to sit for 2 hrs with a cranky & bored baby while my nan ignores us. But we have no choice.
I've tried to have a good morning with Josh, laughing with my mom and Carl when we went to get him. But its just hollow.
Everything is just numb. I should be sad, but I'm not. It's like theres a big empty space where my emotions for Babyness should be. Before Thursday that space was filled with love and hope. Now... it's empty. And aching.
Carl seems to be taking a different approach. Any converstation is met with "It'll be okay. We have each other and Josh. It'll be okay" I think he's just trying to stay stong for me. He cried with me in the hospital. I've seen texts he's sent to his friends, saying he's devastated. I like his attitude of life goes on. Yes it does. But I don't see how it will be the same ever again.
I've never lost anyone before. I'm fortunate to have my grandparents still. The closest I've come is my babysitter a few yrs ago & we weren't that close, and my mom's bf last yr. We were friends, but he wasn't a big figure in my life. I have my stepdad & Ian was just a friend my mom was seeing (yes...my family dynamic is fucked up) I was sad when he died, but it didn't blow my world apart like my mom. She will never recover from losing him.
So this, this is the first real loss I've suffered. And its the worst kind. There is no body I can bury, no grave I can visit. Babyness existed in mine and Carl's minds. She was our daughter, but our secret. Ofc, other people knew we were pregnant. But as her parents, everything she was, was in our minds and hearts.
So now, I'm experiencing grief, and its nothing like I expected. Laughing is easy, playing with my son is easy. Going on with my life is easy. Then suddenly a tonne of bricks hits me on the shoulders and drives me to my knees. Your baby is dead. How dare you laugh. Your body killed your child.
It makes me wonder if I have a fucked up sense of relationships I form. I wonder if I view the world slightly off kilter and these things don't affect me properly.
One thing that keeps haunting me though, as sick as it is, is that everything I passed, I passed into the toilet. That thought sickens me. That was my child. It's a reoccuring thought that truely sickens me.
So today is just today.
Staying at my moms, there is the temptation to get really drunk. I know it won't help. Carl keeps reminding me it won't. But the temptation is there. Maybe I'll have one or two. It won't really makes things better. In the morning, my baby will still be dead.
Carl has gone to work today. I'm spending the day and night with my mom. But right now, she's at the hairdressers. Carl is at work. Josh is in bed. So it's me, 2 sleeping cats & Meat Loaf on the iPig.
I've got to go the hospital this afternoon to see my nan. I'm dreading it. I hate hospitals. I don't want to sit for 2 hrs with a cranky & bored baby while my nan ignores us. But we have no choice.
I've tried to have a good morning with Josh, laughing with my mom and Carl when we went to get him. But its just hollow.
Everything is just numb. I should be sad, but I'm not. It's like theres a big empty space where my emotions for Babyness should be. Before Thursday that space was filled with love and hope. Now... it's empty. And aching.
Carl seems to be taking a different approach. Any converstation is met with "It'll be okay. We have each other and Josh. It'll be okay" I think he's just trying to stay stong for me. He cried with me in the hospital. I've seen texts he's sent to his friends, saying he's devastated. I like his attitude of life goes on. Yes it does. But I don't see how it will be the same ever again.
I've never lost anyone before. I'm fortunate to have my grandparents still. The closest I've come is my babysitter a few yrs ago & we weren't that close, and my mom's bf last yr. We were friends, but he wasn't a big figure in my life. I have my stepdad & Ian was just a friend my mom was seeing (yes...my family dynamic is fucked up) I was sad when he died, but it didn't blow my world apart like my mom. She will never recover from losing him.
So this, this is the first real loss I've suffered. And its the worst kind. There is no body I can bury, no grave I can visit. Babyness existed in mine and Carl's minds. She was our daughter, but our secret. Ofc, other people knew we were pregnant. But as her parents, everything she was, was in our minds and hearts.
So now, I'm experiencing grief, and its nothing like I expected. Laughing is easy, playing with my son is easy. Going on with my life is easy. Then suddenly a tonne of bricks hits me on the shoulders and drives me to my knees. Your baby is dead. How dare you laugh. Your body killed your child.
It makes me wonder if I have a fucked up sense of relationships I form. I wonder if I view the world slightly off kilter and these things don't affect me properly.
One thing that keeps haunting me though, as sick as it is, is that everything I passed, I passed into the toilet. That thought sickens me. That was my child. It's a reoccuring thought that truely sickens me.
So today is just today.
Staying at my moms, there is the temptation to get really drunk. I know it won't help. Carl keeps reminding me it won't. But the temptation is there. Maybe I'll have one or two. It won't really makes things better. In the morning, my baby will still be dead.
The Morning After
So, the morning after. Friday 5th of October.
Surprisingly I managed to sleep okay. Josh was still out, me & Carl stayed up watching crap tv, fell into bed & slept okay.
Friday morning. Woke up, had a quicky, as you do. Its the only thing thats helping at the moment, for both of us I think. It helps us forget.
I had someone coming to collect some wardrobes I'd sold, and Carl's parents were bringing Josh back early. So we lazed around in bed til his mom called to say they were nearly there.
Get up. Get dressed. Go meet them.
Get Josh home, play around with him. Try and keep life normal for him. Put him to bed after his dinner.
Find out that the people for the wardrobes are nearly here. Rush around to get them emptied and downstairs.
Inside Josh's wardrobe are all the bits we'd saved for this baby. Baby walker, bouncer, baby chair, playmat. All not needed anymore.
After the wardrobes are gone, there is no space for these things in Josh's room. So we put them in the loft.
Every single thing that went into my loft yesterday was like stabbing myself. Not needed anymore. No Babyness to roll around on that playmat like Josh. No Babyness to jump in that bouncer and laugh. No Babyness to crash around the house learning to stand and walk.
Empty. "I'm so sorry, it's not good news"
I'm just crushed. So we do the only thing we can. Put Josh in his pram and go out.
I must be stupid, we're shopping for a fire guard. Mothercare. Toys R Us. Prams, cots, clothes. BABIES!
I must be stupid.
All I can think walking around is that I feel sick. I'm looking at girl clothes and literally aching for my baby girl. Looking at twin prams and I want to fall to my knees and sob. I want my baby back! I want to be pregnant still. I should be looking forward to my 12 week scan. Not mourning for a life not lived.
We go to Asda to buy Josh a new winter coat and hat/gloves. Looking round I get a call from my mom, my nan has been taken in to hospital after a fall. No news yet, but she'll be okay.
Great, now I have to act like everything is okay even more so. Cos everyone is wrapped up in her. I just want to scream "My baby is dead!" How dare life go on.
My mom took Josh to hers for the night. I constructed the new fire gaurd. Carl watched the soaps, which are all full of babies and pregnant people.
I asked him how he could watch them, he laughed and said he can't stop watching them. I laughed too, he's so tv obssessed. It guess some normality is good.
Surprisingly I managed to sleep okay. Josh was still out, me & Carl stayed up watching crap tv, fell into bed & slept okay.
Friday morning. Woke up, had a quicky, as you do. Its the only thing thats helping at the moment, for both of us I think. It helps us forget.
I had someone coming to collect some wardrobes I'd sold, and Carl's parents were bringing Josh back early. So we lazed around in bed til his mom called to say they were nearly there.
Get up. Get dressed. Go meet them.
Get Josh home, play around with him. Try and keep life normal for him. Put him to bed after his dinner.
Find out that the people for the wardrobes are nearly here. Rush around to get them emptied and downstairs.
Inside Josh's wardrobe are all the bits we'd saved for this baby. Baby walker, bouncer, baby chair, playmat. All not needed anymore.
After the wardrobes are gone, there is no space for these things in Josh's room. So we put them in the loft.
Every single thing that went into my loft yesterday was like stabbing myself. Not needed anymore. No Babyness to roll around on that playmat like Josh. No Babyness to jump in that bouncer and laugh. No Babyness to crash around the house learning to stand and walk.
Empty. "I'm so sorry, it's not good news"
I'm just crushed. So we do the only thing we can. Put Josh in his pram and go out.
I must be stupid, we're shopping for a fire guard. Mothercare. Toys R Us. Prams, cots, clothes. BABIES!
I must be stupid.
All I can think walking around is that I feel sick. I'm looking at girl clothes and literally aching for my baby girl. Looking at twin prams and I want to fall to my knees and sob. I want my baby back! I want to be pregnant still. I should be looking forward to my 12 week scan. Not mourning for a life not lived.
We go to Asda to buy Josh a new winter coat and hat/gloves. Looking round I get a call from my mom, my nan has been taken in to hospital after a fall. No news yet, but she'll be okay.
Great, now I have to act like everything is okay even more so. Cos everyone is wrapped up in her. I just want to scream "My baby is dead!" How dare life go on.
My mom took Josh to hers for the night. I constructed the new fire gaurd. Carl watched the soaps, which are all full of babies and pregnant people.
I asked him how he could watch them, he laughed and said he can't stop watching them. I laughed too, he's so tv obssessed. It guess some normality is good.
Friday, 5 October 2012
Introductions... I guess.
So, I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Karlee. I'm a stay at home mom to a wee lad of 10 months old. I've started this blog since me & my partner have just had the horrific news that we've lost our baby.
I thought it might help me to ride out this roller coaster if I could write about it. And I might be able to help some other people going through this in the future by writing down my experience.
So, I guess I should write about what happened. Lay it all out so I can try and move forward.
Me and my partner (Carl) started not trying for but not preventing a baby in around May time. This had a lot to do with us forgetting contraception haha. But we just knew it was right. We're right. You know when you know.
Anyway, nothing happened for a few months. I had my last period on the 5th of August.
We got a positive test on the 1st of September.
We were so excited. We rushed out to buy a clear blue digital. "Pregnant 1-2" Over the moon doesn't even cover it! Straight away we went to tell Carl's parents. This would be their first grandchild. Carl is not the father to my 10 month old. But he has been with us since Josh was 3 months old. So he might as well be. (Relations with Josh's sperm donor suck. I'm sure you'll hear more about it)
They were also made up. They wanted a grandchild so badly. They treat Josh like their own. But ofc, they didn't come into his life til he was 5 months old. So they missed the pregnancy/newborn stage. They were so excited.
My family didn't take it so well. I only my mom and she hit the roof. She didn't think the timing was right etc. But she soon came round & accepted it.
So there we were. Newly pregnant. Parents to a (then) 9 month old. A whole future ahead of us. I thought it was a girl. I was so sick.
Then, on the 18th of September, every pregnant womans worst nightmare. I started to bleed. Old blood at first. But still frightening. I called my local Early Pregnancy Unit. They booked me for a scan on the 20th.
The following day, my bleeding got worse. Bright red blood. Fresh. Terrifing. But even then, I didn't think I would lose my Babyness. Miscarriages were tragic things that happened to other people. I'd had a healthy baby. It wouldn't happen to me.
So the day of the scan. I drank too much water & the sonographer was late. Not pleasant. Anyway, they scanned me & then did an internal scan. On that they found a little gestational sac. When I saw the nurse she told me this was consistant with an early pregnancy. 5 weeks or so. They rebooked me for 2 weeks time.
The next day my bleeding was worse still. But much less that I would lose with a period. I had some cramps. But nothing painful, like I'd been told miscarriage was. Then the clots started. Large clots.
Straight to A&E.
The drs there examined me. But said my cervix was closed. I wasn't actively miscarrying in front of her. So home we went.
This continued over the weekend. The clotting got less, but the bleeding remained constant.
Then on the tuesday. It stopped. Everything stopped. No more blood. My first thought was that it was over. Whatever it was it was over.
Still at this point not 100% conviced I'd lost my Babyness, but coming around to the idea I guess. I'd bled for a week. Lost clots, some which looked like the drs discription of "products of conception" (which is the cruelest medical term I've ever heard. This was my CHILD!)
Then on Thursday I had a booking in app with my midwife. That was a nightmare, my midwife looked at my notes on the NHS system, where some brightspark had written "miscarriage" & left, thinking I'd forgotten to cancel my app.
Anyway, waiting for her to come, I went to the bathroom & passed a blood coloured lump (for lack of a better term) My first thought was that it looked like a mini placenta. There was a tiny bit of blood with it. But that all. I guess my hopes died there.
My midwife decided to wait until after my scan to do a full booking in app. So we had nothing else to do but spend 7 long days waiting for my scan.
7 long days of hell. Some days I felt positive that everything was okay. Others I was on my knees, totally conviced I'd lost my baby.
Eventually the scan day arrives. Early scan 8.45am. The sonographer is late. Half an hour late. Finally she calls us.
In we go. Cold gel on tummy. Probe pressing on my full bladder. Then "we need to do another internal."
So I do what I need to do & she starts again. Silence. Long silence. Then...
"I'm so sorry, its not good news"
My uterus is empty. My Babyness has grown her wings. My body has failed. Compete miscarriage. Nothing left.
The sonographer escorts us to a quiet room. Me and Carl hold it together for the time it takes her to leave. Then we fall apart. Hold each other as our world shatters. "It's not good news"
In time a nurse comes to see us & explain the unexplainable. Our baby is gone. Do we want a leaflet on miscarriage. Keep taking folic acid if we want to try again. Have a period before we try again. Take care.
We stand, we leave. We hold hands and try not to fall apart. We text people. We can't speak. Messages of love and support come through.
We go to Carl's parents, who are looking after Josh for us. He's sleeping. I wait, 2 hours. I laugh, I joke. It all seems like a bad dream. We don't talk about it after the first 10 mins.
I wait, 2 hours to see my son. To hold him close. I remind myself that its okay, I still have him. I can't do anything but hold him and tell him I love him. He's 10 months old. He doesn't understand.
We decide to let him stay with Carl's parents another night. We go home.
We go to bed, have sex. Forget, for a little while.
That was yesterday. Today it still feels like a bad dream.
"I'm so sorry its not good news"
Our Babyness has grown her wings.
I thought it might help me to ride out this roller coaster if I could write about it. And I might be able to help some other people going through this in the future by writing down my experience.
So, I guess I should write about what happened. Lay it all out so I can try and move forward.
Me and my partner (Carl) started not trying for but not preventing a baby in around May time. This had a lot to do with us forgetting contraception haha. But we just knew it was right. We're right. You know when you know.
Anyway, nothing happened for a few months. I had my last period on the 5th of August.
We got a positive test on the 1st of September.
We were so excited. We rushed out to buy a clear blue digital. "Pregnant 1-2" Over the moon doesn't even cover it! Straight away we went to tell Carl's parents. This would be their first grandchild. Carl is not the father to my 10 month old. But he has been with us since Josh was 3 months old. So he might as well be. (Relations with Josh's sperm donor suck. I'm sure you'll hear more about it)
They were also made up. They wanted a grandchild so badly. They treat Josh like their own. But ofc, they didn't come into his life til he was 5 months old. So they missed the pregnancy/newborn stage. They were so excited.
My family didn't take it so well. I only my mom and she hit the roof. She didn't think the timing was right etc. But she soon came round & accepted it.
So there we were. Newly pregnant. Parents to a (then) 9 month old. A whole future ahead of us. I thought it was a girl. I was so sick.
Then, on the 18th of September, every pregnant womans worst nightmare. I started to bleed. Old blood at first. But still frightening. I called my local Early Pregnancy Unit. They booked me for a scan on the 20th.
The following day, my bleeding got worse. Bright red blood. Fresh. Terrifing. But even then, I didn't think I would lose my Babyness. Miscarriages were tragic things that happened to other people. I'd had a healthy baby. It wouldn't happen to me.
So the day of the scan. I drank too much water & the sonographer was late. Not pleasant. Anyway, they scanned me & then did an internal scan. On that they found a little gestational sac. When I saw the nurse she told me this was consistant with an early pregnancy. 5 weeks or so. They rebooked me for 2 weeks time.
The next day my bleeding was worse still. But much less that I would lose with a period. I had some cramps. But nothing painful, like I'd been told miscarriage was. Then the clots started. Large clots.
Straight to A&E.
The drs there examined me. But said my cervix was closed. I wasn't actively miscarrying in front of her. So home we went.
This continued over the weekend. The clotting got less, but the bleeding remained constant.
Then on the tuesday. It stopped. Everything stopped. No more blood. My first thought was that it was over. Whatever it was it was over.
Still at this point not 100% conviced I'd lost my Babyness, but coming around to the idea I guess. I'd bled for a week. Lost clots, some which looked like the drs discription of "products of conception" (which is the cruelest medical term I've ever heard. This was my CHILD!)
Then on Thursday I had a booking in app with my midwife. That was a nightmare, my midwife looked at my notes on the NHS system, where some brightspark had written "miscarriage" & left, thinking I'd forgotten to cancel my app.
Anyway, waiting for her to come, I went to the bathroom & passed a blood coloured lump (for lack of a better term) My first thought was that it looked like a mini placenta. There was a tiny bit of blood with it. But that all. I guess my hopes died there.
My midwife decided to wait until after my scan to do a full booking in app. So we had nothing else to do but spend 7 long days waiting for my scan.
7 long days of hell. Some days I felt positive that everything was okay. Others I was on my knees, totally conviced I'd lost my baby.
Eventually the scan day arrives. Early scan 8.45am. The sonographer is late. Half an hour late. Finally she calls us.
In we go. Cold gel on tummy. Probe pressing on my full bladder. Then "we need to do another internal."
So I do what I need to do & she starts again. Silence. Long silence. Then...
"I'm so sorry, its not good news"
My uterus is empty. My Babyness has grown her wings. My body has failed. Compete miscarriage. Nothing left.
The sonographer escorts us to a quiet room. Me and Carl hold it together for the time it takes her to leave. Then we fall apart. Hold each other as our world shatters. "It's not good news"
In time a nurse comes to see us & explain the unexplainable. Our baby is gone. Do we want a leaflet on miscarriage. Keep taking folic acid if we want to try again. Have a period before we try again. Take care.
We stand, we leave. We hold hands and try not to fall apart. We text people. We can't speak. Messages of love and support come through.
We go to Carl's parents, who are looking after Josh for us. He's sleeping. I wait, 2 hours. I laugh, I joke. It all seems like a bad dream. We don't talk about it after the first 10 mins.
I wait, 2 hours to see my son. To hold him close. I remind myself that its okay, I still have him. I can't do anything but hold him and tell him I love him. He's 10 months old. He doesn't understand.
We decide to let him stay with Carl's parents another night. We go home.
We go to bed, have sex. Forget, for a little while.
That was yesterday. Today it still feels like a bad dream.
"I'm so sorry its not good news"
Our Babyness has grown her wings.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)