I always thought I understood grieve, I had lost a couple of people when I was young, as in a child young and it was just something had happened. I experienced grieve for the first time when my aunt died when I was 15 it was heartbreaking and I hated every moment of it. But I don’t think until I lost my Nan who I was exceptionally close to I had any idea what grieve was. I had never felt pain like it and it took me a long time to get over my Nan. I hated it all and can remember it all clearly as it was only a few years ago.
However today was the day I really felt grieve. It was a complete and utter feeling. I felt sick, I felt like my heart was literally breaking in two and there was nothing that would stop the pain. My heart actually truly ached. It hurt so much that it made my chest hurt, I have never experienced anything like it. But who expects to experience the words, your baby has died. It is not something you can prepare yourself for and it is not something you know how to deal with.
It is pain, and it is hell and it is all I can really remember from this day. That and the fact that there was a little tiny bit of white broken plastic on the floor by my chair, and a very dark carpet. I kept looking at this plastic, it really was tiny but it kept me concentrating for the rest of the day. It is strange how your brain works.
While my chest was hurting, and my heart was aching and I was struggling to breathe what kept me going that day was Mr L and this tiny little piece of plastic on the floor.
It was a daze there were lots of things being said, but at the same time everything seemed to be in slow motion. The nurse and doctor came back in the room. She sat down and didn’t really say anything. The doctor had a lot to say.
He didn’t know the reason, he couldn’t tell from the scan but it did look like our baby Rhianna Lily had died on the Monday. We asked what would happen now, and he said that we would have to come back in to be induced as I would have to give birth to her, I was shocked. (I don’t know what I expected) But I was shocked and I was scared. He said that we didn’t have to do it straight away and that every person made a different decision and it was up to us.
I remember sitting in the chair my hand in Mr L’s and looking at him for answers, he just said it was up to me as he held my hand in his. I told him I wanted it done quick. I wanted it done now. The nurse agreed with the doctor that she would try to see if the maternity ward was free that day. As we would have to have one on one care so they needed to see if any midwives were free.
I did remember to ask if we needed to plan her funeral and the doctor said that if we wanted one then yes, otherwise we could have her cremated or buried at the hospital with the hospital vicar and church. But that was something that we could decide after. We also needed to decide whether we wanted a postmortem due to them not knowing why it happened. Again a look at Mr L and him saying it was up to me. I wanted a postmortem I had to know what had happened. He said that was fine. Again the doctor said it was something we could decide nearer the time, after her birth, but they may never know the reason, but it was something we could look into.
Soon after this the nurse came back saying that the maternity ward couldn’t take us straight away, so it was decided that we would come back in the next day and would have to ring the maternity bleep at 9am and see what time they wanted us in.
The doctor said that they would have to take some blood and screen me for certain infections, and check my blood for certain things. Once that was done we were able to go home.
After this the doctor said sorry again, and we were left on our own for a little bit. I remember just sitting in a daze, the tears just remained flowing they didn’t seem to stop and I could not stop saying sorry to Mr L. He was asking why I was saying sorry but I couldn’t stop it.
While we were waiting I felt that I had better call my mum and dad, I had left Baba for a quick appointment at 10am it was now 2pm and they would be wondering where I was. I made the phone call and just didn’t know what to say, my dad answered and the it took all my strength to say who I was.
Dad: “Are you ok?”
Me: “No, I’ve lost the baby”
Me: “We have lost the baby”
Dad: “Oh god…”
Probably the worst phone call in the world, the worst thing I have had to say and the worst thing they have had to hear. I then had to speak to my mum and I was sobbing my heart out. They obviously were gutted and they were asking all these questions, there was nothing else I could say, I gave the phone to Mr L as there was nothing else I could say. I hated saying the words it was admitting it was all true. I didn’t want to admit my baby girl had died. I wanted to live in my bubble a little longer I didn’t want to believe it.
After I spoke to my mum Mr L decided that he had better ring his, I don’t think his mum answered so he ended up ringing his dad. It was heart wrenching to watch the man you love, the father of your children walking away from you, trying to protect you from seeing him break in two, explaining to his dad that you have lost your baby. I sat in that chair and sank a little lower, he was sobbing, he was grabbing his hair, he looked like he could have ripped every hair out of his head in those few moments. I couldn’t even hear what he was saying. The sobs were so loud and I was so sorry for him and so sad.
The next few minutes were a little manic, we had Mr L’s parents wanting to come down even though they were in hospital with his Nan and him asking whether I wanted them too or not, in the end we decided not. We were going to be leaving soon and I really didn’t want to see anyone at that precise moment in time.
Soon after some nurse came in to take my blood and they took a lot, I was sat there for quite a while they took one load, and another and another and another. After he finished we were then sat there again in silence, with the tears flowing quietly and I still could not stop saying sorry.
We were soon given the all clear to go home, with details to call the next morning. I remember asking if they could call my midwife as I really didn’t have it in me to call, the nurse said that was fine. She gave us the biggest hug in the world as we left that hospital. No longer a thriving family waiting for the arrival of our baby girl, now a broken family. One not sure what to do anymore.
We started the long drive home and Mr L had decided that he would tell Baba as I had asked him in the room what we were going to tell him. I felt so bad he was so excited about being a big brother and I hated that that was taken away from him. Mr L was insistent that he would tell Baba from the moment that I first mentioned it to him. It was the first of many things that he took complete control over and I loved him dearly for it.
I sat in that car and cried silent tears, the loud sobs had been done for the day, there was nothing really left in me. I just couldn’t stop saying sorry. It didn’t matter how many times Mr L told me it wasn’t my fault at that precise moment in time I felt that it was all my fault.
We knew we were having a little girl, she had a name she was our baby Rhianna Lily, and she had her big brother and her Daddy to protect for all her life. I know that she would have needed me as well, but no one was going to get past Baba and Daddy when she was older. She was always going to be looked after. The only time I didn’t have their help the only time I had to do it all and protect her and look after her was when I was carrying her, when I was pregnant with her. That is the time that she died, so to me at that precise moment in time. I had failed.
I had one job to do, get her through the first nine months, and I had screwed it up by the highest degree ever. I didn’t care what anyone said, there was only me to protect her, and I didn’t manage it. For that I was so sorry.
I wasn’t just saying sorry to Mr L that day, I was repeatedly saying sorry to Rhianna Lily as Mummy had messed up a little and I hated myself for that.