The Dull 20/03/2012

Telling people that your baby has died is probably the hardest thing we have ever done. I remember making the phone calls to relatives and friends when my Nan and Gran died, and I managed to keep it together for those few minutes. I knew instantly that this wouldn’t happen when I told people that Rhianna had died. It just was not going to happen.

We had the toughest challenge first, telling Baba once we pulled up my parents place.

We walked in and the hugs started. Hugs are great, I love hugs but that particular day I didn’t really want any. Hugs meant that I would cry and they also meant it was all true I didn’t really want either. It was all so raw, it was all so strange and I had this feeling that if we just didn’t tell anyone it wouldn’t really be true. I knew really that wasn’t the case but it was nice to think it was just for a moment.

While I was being hugged Mr L took Baba off to tell him what had happened, within seconds he came running into the kitchen. Eyes wide open and almost scared…

“Why are you sad Mummy? Because Baby Rhianna died?”

Hugging my legs there was nothing that could be said in that moment, nothing that could take my pain away. Nothing that could make it ok for Mr L and nothing that could stop our little 3-year-old having to understand all this. It made me so sad that Baba had to experience this too, that we couldn’t protect him from this. It was hard enough that we were going through all of this pain, let alone Baba at the tender age of 3 going through it all too.

He was so excited that he was having a baby sister, and he only had that excitement for three weeks. And then it was literally pulled away from him. I felt so sad for him and so guilty that I had put him through this. It was heartbreaking.

We had a little time on our own while Mr L explained that Rhianna was now a baby in heaven and that we wouldn’t see her. Baba had lots of questions,

“Is there still a baby in your tummy Mummy?”

“Will I see Rhianna?”

“When will she be coming back?”

Each and everyone heartbreaking, each and every answer not what we wanted to say and not what he wanted to hear. It was so difficult and so sad and so heartbreaking.

We didn’t really have anything to say to anyone. We stayed for a while and then had to go through it all again with seeing Mr L’s parents I didn’t really want to see anyone I just wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.

We went up to his parents and the hugs happened again, again the tears started and again there was nothing to really say. We had to sort out a few logistics with Mr L’s parents asking if they could have Baba the next day, checking that if we were in over night could they keep him and get him to school the next day. It was decided that it was probably best for him to stay regardless for the night, as I wanted his preschool routine to stay the same and he had a school trip on the Thursday that he was so excited about I didn’t want him to miss that. We sorted all that about and then finally got to go home.

We had to make a decision once at home about whether to tell our friends or not, Mr L was going with the idea that we wouldn’t tell anyone until we had given birth. I had a different idea, I needed friends to know I didn’t want to speak to them really, but more so I wanted them to know so that no one called accidentally or text to see how the bump was. That would have killed me.

In the end I sat on the sofa and wrote a text I never ever thought I would write a text telling our closest friends that we had lost our baby, that we were going into hospital the next day to be induced and that the baby would then have to have a postmortem as they didn’t know why but we weren’t sure about that. I had to explain that we could only take texts as neither were up to having phone calls, and then I pressed send.

Sitting waiting for that first response back was strange, I wanted everyone to reply but part of me really didn’t want anyone to reply. Maybe no one would get it then it wouldn’t be real. Unfortunately they all did get it and slowly the sorry’s the tears through the texts came through. We have such strong bonds that we got a lot of love sent our way, but I could tell that it was coming through a lot of tears.

I remember being asked constantly if there was anything I wanted them to do, and I actually did reply in capitals bring my baby back to a few people. It was all too much even the texts were hard. Don’t get me wrong I wanted them, I needed them but they were so hard to read, and to reply. Breathing was hard at this point let alone anything else.

The rest of the evening was slow, most of it was spent crying. I went to the toilet and saw a pile of baby clothes on the hallway, Mr L had to get rid of them very quickly it was so hard to look at them. Only two days before we had been ohhhing and arhhhing over these clothes imagining our precious little girl in them when she arrived. Wondering whether she would fit in them all or be like her brother so dinky that nothing fitted at first. And then 48hours later all thoughts of that were dashed and ruined and they just hurt. They made the breath stop in my throat and I knew that I couldn’t see them again. Mr L ran up the stairs when I shouted at him about them, he got rid of them so quick I was so thankful to him.

Baba was our life saver, we had to get through the rest of the day because of him. He needed food, he needed to be put to bed, he needed routine and I was so grateful to him for that. Mr L decided that Baba would go to bed and we would go up and watch a movie, I was not to be alone. I was being ordered and that was that.

I needed that I had to be ordered otherwise I would have sat on that sofa all night and cried. In actual fact I laid in bed all night and cried. Baba came in around 3am and for once I was so grateful I didn’t want him to be moved, I just lay watching him, crying having my hair stroked by Mr L, holding my bump with all my heart.

Wishing that this was happening to someone else? Praying I would wake from this nightmare? Wondering what we ever did so wrong to deserve this? Wondering why, why, why?

Sleep never came to me that night I dozed but I never slept, it was the hardest night of my life.


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