Thursday, 8 October 2015
23:15 | Posted by Caz | Edit Post
I wish she was here.
Of course I wish she was here. It is my biggest wish of all.
I wish I could turn back the hands of time and change our fate, to save her.
If I could I would go back to the 6th June 2010 when I was threatening premature labour and her heart rate dipped with each contraction; only this time I wish instead of me hoping that they kept her in, I would hope that she was born. I thought she was safer kept inside, still cooking. Oh how wrong was I?
I realise if she had been born there is a very real chance she might have died anyway. Premature and tiny. But at least the Doctors could have had a chance to save her too. The 6th June was the first chance she might've been saved.
If I could I would go back to the 15th June 2010, when I first started to feel that maybe something wasn't quite right again. When the midwife said her heart rate was a little faster and outside the boundaries of normal range at my appointment that afternoon. But not enough to worry. But that day she had been quieter than normal, and as the day went on I couldn't feel her. I thought I was being neurotic. So we listened in on the heartbeat monitor we had at home. We had so been enjoying listening to her a few times a week on it; our special time. But this night we listened in because I was anxious. We listened in and we heard her, a heartbeat far to fast too be my own.
And this was MY failing. I thought I was being neurotic so made the fateful decision to wait until the morning to ring someone if I still didn't think things were right.
That night I slept on the sofa. Fell asleep after 11.00pm and that night she died. Sometime in the early hours of that next morning my little girls heart stopped beating.
I should've gone in that night. Maybe, just maybe if I had not waited until morning the hospital could've saved her. I missed MY chance to save her.
The next morning I knew, I knew it was too late before I made that phone call. I was so utterly terrified, clinging on to hope, but I knew, deep down, before we were told.
I wish she was here.
But I can't have any of those wishes.
So instead I need to make wishes for the future.
I've worked so hard these last two years to heal parts of my mind and make more pieces fit in this Grief Life puzzle.
I've worked on my irrational fear around other baby girls. Two years ago I held someone else's baby and indeed a girl for the first time since since Anabelle had died; it had taken me three years to reach that point. That little girl is now my Goddaughter; something else I never thought I could do.
Last year we worked really hard to change the pain surrounding Mother's Day and Father's Day. We had a new plan, a new healing plan that honoured all of our children on these days. We were more successful with Mother's Day than Father's Day; being so close to Anabelle's birthday, with the memories of me labouring all evening on Father's Day that night she was born, missing Father's Day by eight minutes past. Father's Day may take some more practice, but we're working on it.
Last Christmas time was the best Christmas since Anabelle died. A magical month of daily festive activities with the boys. December didn't feel painful and I was working so hard to get myself through Christmas with that pain and my mind more intact than ever before. I even felt excited! In the end December threw me an unexpected curveball and I didn't make it through the month without my Christmas meltdown, but I tried. And this year I will try again.
June I felt peaceful as my new nephew arrived just five days after Belle's birthday. Peaceful after months of agonising about his due date. Peaceful because my family showed me kindness and empathy.
Since June I've been in a really good place. Maybe the best place I've ever been since June 2010. We had the best summer; just many many beautiful days with my boys with a summer of themed weeks, learning fun and experiences. Making memories.
And that is my motivation for healing. My boys.
I don't want those rainbow boys to grow up feeling the weight of my grief. I want my mind to be well. I want them to know rainbows hold us up and wraps our family in happiness. That they made us happier than they'll ever know. I want their memories of their childhood to be full of magical times and a family that was full of love. That missing their sister wasn't the same as them not being enough.
So my wish for the future is this; to keep working towards acceptance. I'm not sure what acceptance will look like for me. But I know it needs to include acceptance of what was, what is and what will be - my agonising of the past and my agonising of the future needs working on.
I can't promise I will get there quickly, or if I will get there at all. But I can promise I will keep working at it, because my present is those beautiful babies and I'm so lucky to have them.
My wish for the future is memories of a beautiful life.
- 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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