Monday, 24 June 2013
13:06 | Posted by Caz | Edit Post
I'm going offline for a while. I'm not sure how long. At least a week or two, probably more. We'll see.
Last night I had given myself a shake and pledged to start an upward turn, to re-engage with the world. It isn't quite working out so far. But if nothing else my babies deserve that of me. Not a Mummy constantly on the verge of tears. Friday when I sobbed Xander looked at me with big concerned worried eyes. Climbed up on to my lap and cwtched in close. A baby boy shouldn't have to be worried about his mother.
My grief is very real and raw, and so close.
I've suffered with nightmares these last two weeks. Visions of Belle as her body will be now and more flashbacks than I have had in a long while. I've reacted very violently to Anabelle's birthday this year. Grief is consuming and unpredictable.
Three years but only really yesterday for me.
Today's flashback is walking up the aisle at her funeral, clinging to my father. Barely able to keep my legs up and my feet moving. Bleeding heavily post birth and leaking wasted milk profusely. Feeling sore. Jon carrying our daughter ahead of me in her pink box.
These are not just memories. They are vivid bolts to the chest as I'm thrown back there. As if I'm really back there and it leaves me choked.
But I'm becoming acutely aware, without it ever being the intention, that my grief is becoming frightening for others, offensive even. Clearly it has become all too uncomfortable. I can't deal with that anymore. Feeling responsible for others when so much of my energy is needed to put my family emotionally back together right now.
This blog used to be my safe place. Where spilling words onto a page could heal me a little, help me process the overwhelming pain, and function. So often others have told me my words help them process their own grief. But maybe its not a safe place anymore. I don't know where to go.
Apart from offline, for a little while. At least from here and Facebook.
So I'm saying bye bye, just for now and sending my love to all.
Saturday, 22 June 2013
17:36 | Posted by Caz | Edit Post
Baby is born. Alive. Everyone is happy. Everyone takes pictures. Everyone coos. Everyone congratulates the new Mum and Dad. Baby comes home. Everyone visits.
The good life.
Its so simple right?
Then why wasn't it? Not for Anabelle.
Baby is born. Dead. Everyone is broken. Only a few take pictures. Mummy takes weeks to be brave enough to share just some of those pictures in case people are not very kind. Three years later there are still hundreds she hasn't shared, too precious to share still incase people are not kind. Everyone sends sympathy cards and their condolences to the new Mum and Dad. Baby doesn't come home. No one visits. No one coos. The only people who meet your baby, meet them led in their coffin in the chapel of rest.
The nightmare life.
Baby doesn't come home.
Mummy and Daddy hold their baby for a few short hours before leaving the hospital empty handed.
Baby is taken to the cold hospital mortuary.
A funeral director picks the baby up from the mortuary and takes her to their cold chapel of rest.
Baby is put in a tiny pink coffin.
The last time Mummy and Daddy see their baby she is led in her coffin, just hours before the lid is going to be put on, with her name engraved on a silver plate and then she'll be in the dark forever.
Baby is put in deep dark cold ground. All alone.
Mummy has nightmares and flashbacks. Relives and relives again.
Mummy knows her beautiful tiny girl is rotting and decaying. Soon to be just bones in that dark ground if she isn't already.
Mental images no mother should ever have of her child.
I've been feeling mentally tortured, unravelling and dark these last few days. Hurting, then hurting some more.
Unlike other years I felt little peace on Anabelle's birthday yesterday. We lit sparklers and candles at 00:08 to mark the moment we held her for the first and short time three years ago. We visited her, we decorated her grave in pink as we have every other year so far. We visited her mountain, where we wrote her eulogy and her brother sent her a balloon. Her brother played bells for Belle, we blew out candles and sang happy birthday. We decorated our home garden with pink flowers and decorations.
But mostly I felt bothered, highly strung and jittery. Unwell. I don't feel well at the moment. Physically, mentally. Too much turmoil.
Hormones, still ongoing pregnancy sickness much later than I've ever had before, many an unsettled tummy this week and so tired. The physical manifestation of grief and pain.
Today I've been obsessed with cleaning and tidying our house. Early nesting perhaps. Or maybe I'm trying to regain some control of the chaos that my mind feels in. Today we've been back to where we got married, where we spent so much time in the quiet in just each others company in those early weeks after our baby girls death. At the moment it could easily be the early weeks again the turmoil I feel in. Today we're trying to find some emotional calm and peace, just as we were three years ago.
But we've survived through to the weekend and I only hope as we pass the anniversary of her funeral next week and June now becomes July I'll start feeling a little bit more together again.
Thursday, 20 June 2013
20:20 | Posted by Caz | Edit Post
What did you buy your daughter for her birthday this year?
I bet it wasn't pink garden lanterns and flowers.
That is what we've bought our daughter for her third birthday tomorrow.
I didn't want to get up this morning. My eyes didn't want to open. Not because I was tired, or had a bad nights sleep, but because my heart is so heavy with grief and hurt. Because I didn't want to have to face today. Hurt. Today isn't fair, tomorrow isn't fair, the day after that isn't fair. None of this is fair. Why is my daughter dead? After three years I know that today, the day before, will be harder than tomorrow. I know that the day after will be harder too. I know the lows will hit either side of the 'big' day. Knowing doesn't stop the sheer pain though.
Raw. Reliving. This time three years ago I was finally in labour after five days of trying to get me there. Anabelle was on her way. From waters breaking to her being born took five hours and eight minutes. Those eight minutes taking her into the next day just after midnight.
Three years later I'm not wrapping birthday presents in pink paper like I should be. Instead I'm lighting candles and making pink decorations to pretty her grave with.
And I'm so angry. Because this isn't the way it should be. Why us. Why her.
Being three should be about starting nursery class at school.
Being three should be about a Disney Princess obsession.
Being three should be about loving to dress up and discovering role play.
Being three should be about learning numbers and letters and how to write her name.
Being three should be about being a threenager.
Being three shouldn't be this.
Having a little girl shouldn't be like this, because I don't really have her at all.
Friday, 14 June 2013
21:31 | Posted by Caz | Edit Post
...in more ways than one.
Sometimes, when I feel that I couldn't hurt anymore and I'm teetering on the brink, my lovely boy is a beautiful distraction. This week is one of those weeks, Anabelle's upcoming remember day and birthday and everything in between is hitting me hard. I'm overwhelmed by things I cannot control. I'm tired. If possible, this third year is hurting more than the years before. Is this the pattern to come? Each year feeling harder than the last? Who said time heals when my heart feels raw and broken as if she died yesterday?
Today has seen every emotion; tears, pain, happiness, excitement. And my solace? The company of my boy.
Today I felt relief when I picked him up from nursery.
For a little while nothing else mattered, me, my boy and playtime. Exploring his new sand and water table! He has been a delight this evening; cheeky, inquisitive and loving. My boy. Right up until bedtime, playing boo with himself in the landing mirror; something I will have to catch on video if I can!
We are blessed to have him.
We were, we are blessed to have Anabelle, if only for a short time.
We are blessed to have this baby.
Yes, this is Mini Morgan the Third. Due to join us in December.
As you can see, at the moment out lives have turned into another rollercoaster. We're of course happy and elated to be having our third child, I'm excited. But we're also scared, knowing that this point and second trimester means little for guaranteeing this beautiful baby comes home. The tipping point between fear and hope is slim. Today was our 3rd scan so far this pregnancy. This morning I had convinced myself there would be no baby at the scan, that this little blob would have left us. Then there it still was; wriggling, rolling, curling, kicking, waving. And we left with a beautifully clear picture. I think it already has the same nose as the other two.
At the moment I'm feeling particularly vulnerable. Tears are just below the surface and so easily shed. Hormones coupled with the pain and hurt for Anabelle that is heightened over these next few weeks. Grief is all consuming. Once again I'm left wondering how on earth we survive this forever. I can only hope we emerge into July feeling a little more together again.
And I can only hope for another baby rainbow and come Christmas I will find relief in the company of two of my children. How I wish it was the three. Please stay safe little one.
Thursday, 6 June 2013
20:30 | Posted by Caz | Edit Post
Today, three years ago, was the pivotal moment for my daughter's fate.
On the 6th June back in 2010 I was admitted to hospital threatening pre-term labour with Anabelle. With every tightening of my stomach her heart rate fluctuated and dipped. She wasn't happy.
The Doctors were treating me to stop the tightening's while starting to prepare for a possible section at the same time if her heart rate didn't stabilise soon.
It did stablise, we were relieved, then we thought she was too tiny to be born, but now I look back on this as our first warning sign. I wish we had got her out then, while she was still alive.
A change of events at this point, on this day three years ago, just might have given us a different overall outcome. I know premature birth could have also risked her death, I know she might have been poorly. But a different decision, sparking a different chain of events and our daughter might have survived.
Instead, ten days later she died. It could have been different. I miss her.
I hate June, but love that this is her month all the same.
Today I remember Cerian, on her 3rd birthday.
Born sleeping on the 6th June 2010.
Born sleeping on the 6th June 2010.
- After Anabelle - Raising Rainbows. I'm Caz, Mummy to beautiful angel Belle and my wonderful rainbow boys, Xander, Zachy and Luc. Wife to Jon. Twitter @cazem Instagram @cazzyem
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