It’s been a long time since my last post. I’ve been very weak, I’ve barely been able to carry on with life over the past few weeks. Things just suddenly became hard and unreal again.
“What has the hardest part of Rosie’s death been?” is what a friend asked me. I didn’t know what to reply with, did I say the week that Rosie died or the week after, now? I couldn’t put it into different difficulties, it’s all been just as hard. Every moment I remember my baby is dead I have to try and stop myself from thinking in order to stop the pain. The pain doesn’t get any easier, you think it will, you see people living with grief and think that they don’t feel the pain any more. I replied with “the hardest time was when I still had to give birth to Rosie knowing that she was dead” but as I look back that was the easy part, i’d love to feel Rosie again, have her physically with me, now I feel nothing, sometimes I forget i’m a mummy. I have all of these natural instincts in me that are wasted, every time I hear a new born baby cry my body yearns and screams. I feel a physical pull urging me to protect my baby but it isn’t my baby I hear cry. I find myself not only looking but staring at heavily pregnant women wishing it was still me and Rosie, I watch mothers with their babies cooing over them, feeding them, checking they are okay. I see women stop prams to look at the contents with smiles and laughter, I don’t just look I stare and I know that i’m doing it I just can’t stop myself. I went to a friend’s house so that I could mix with people i knew which is a scary thing, I still won’t see or speak to my own family. They had someone there with a baby girl a few months probably Rosie’s age had she of lived, I watched people make funny faces, play and giggle with her. My heart, wow, my heart stopped. That should be my baby. I knew then that I will find every day and every situation hard. I didn’t go back the next week because I felt so hurt by it that it had weakened me. Gradually I have become weaker, I have stopped seeing children I know that like me, such as my nephews I won’t go to a place if I think they’ll be there. I have these motherly instincts that are for Rosie but somehow I find myself being looked up to by other kids. It feels so wrong to me, I’m Rosie’s mum no one else’s so I have avoided children and family and friends. I started to only go out at night time so there were less people around, now its summer people are everywhere whatever time it may be so i’m being pushed to go out. I still live in the same area where every one knows i’m the mum to a dead baby, I get looks and nods and sympathy half smiles. I have very few meaningful friends that want to spend time with me, I think i’m more of a party pooper now, here comes the dead baby lady. I went back a few weeks later to my friends house, I had a particularly hard week, I just didn’t want to be here any more I began to say “I give up” that was the day I told my husband how bad I was feeling, I told him I can’t live in this pain any more. I have joyous times, you’ll always see me smiling despite the pain I feel but you see i’m unhappy, i’m lost, i’m still in this black pit and the light I see above me is fading. The evening at a friends I walked in and cried, I was at the end, no more could I live with the pain. My husband helped me calm down and paint a smile back on so I engrossed myself in conversation talking and enjoying hearing about other peoples problems, to talk about other peoples problems is such a mighty relief it takes my mind off my pain and hurt. I got on with someone I have never really had a deep conversation with before, I thought that I was making a friend that would actually be a friend it gave me a sense of hopefulness. And then I found out from a piece of paper saying “_ and _’s baby will be my best friend” I thought this was a joke, I actually laughed thinking no one would leave this around for me to find if it was true. I took the paper to this friend and found out she was pregnant. At that moment my heart fell out of my mouth onto the floor and was crushed by the falling of my hopefulness. This is what lead to me nearly killing myself. Again. My husband hugged this friend and congratulated her, I felt as though he had betrayed me, I felt like he was happier to see their pregnancy than he was for ours. I didn’t remember how happy Andrew was when we found out we were pregnant I just automatically thought that he had betrayed me and Rosie. I barely kept it together for the next ten minutes before we left and then when we made our way home I started to deteriorate. I was thinking about what happened, how I found out, how Andrew reacted how betrayed and let down I was by friends and my husband. It kindled in my head and then at home it burst into ferocious flames, I lost myself. I couldn’t move from the bus when it was our stop, the bus driver was patient as Andrew had to drag me off, I didn’t want to go home, my baby should be there but she wasn’t. I couldn’t face the torment again. Constantly comparing my losses to the friends gains, they have two great jobs, money, a beautiful house, friends that stick by them, a car, loving family and now a healthy pregnancy and soon a baby. We have a dead daughter, living in a small flat with my mum because we can’t afford our own place, my husband earns just over minimum wage, I earn nothing because every job I go for I’m not right for. No benefits or help from the government, living on £50 a week for two. Why do we have nothing when other people seem to have the world and much more. If any one deserves a break its us but no we get to find out this news in such a harsh way. It bubbled into volcanic lava spewing out of me, I collapsed to the floor which was the middle of a road and I screamed and cried, I had no control over my actions, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t talk all I could do was scream and cry on my knees in the middle of a road. As I fell to the floor my husband tried to catch me but couldn’t, He then sat in front of me holding me tight trying to get me to move. People came to see if they should call 999, cars came and stopped because I blocked the way, I just couldn’t move an inch. screaming so loudly at 10pm in the middle of traffic I almost got my husband arrested. I was there for at least twenty minutes before I could move. Andrew lead me home, my body was so weak, everything started to shut down, I couldn’t talk, could barely think. I hardly even knew where I was going. I don’t remember getting inside or sitting down, I must have been sobbing and screaming slumped on the sofa for half an hour, I couldn’t even close my mouth so I had fluid all down my clothes. Then I got the strength to go to the kitchen and get a knife, I took a chefs carving knife and held it against my wrist keeping my veins prisoner. I didn’t want to kill myself I didn’t plan it I just saw it and wanted to scare myself back into reality, I held the knife strong against my skin. Andrew followed me and took the knife away from me with the most hatefully loving look I have ever seen, he embraced me and walked me over to the sofa and held me tightly again, my mind woke up, I couldn’t talk still I just kept mouthing words to him looking into his angry loving eyes. After lots of attempts the words started making sounds, the words I chose summed up everything I was feeling and struggling with “my baby’s dead” over and over with passion and terror I kept saying it. Every time I said those words they meant something different but that’s all I could say. The lava that spewed out of my mind took over every part of me, had I not have gotten the energy to scare myself I believe I would have given up and stopped. I still haven’t put myself together I feel angry, betrayed, lost, I feel useless and unworthy of anything good. If anyone needs blesseings in life I do, we do. And I bloody well expect millions of blessings to come to us now. If you feel like this about anything you should expect blessings too.
Our ocean of blessings is coming, so we’re learning how to swim.