Precious Memories

A fellow Angel Mummy asked over on PAIL – a support group I am part of – to share our memories of our Angels; whilst pregnant and after.

This got me thinking and brought some of the memories back of which I guess where pushed to the back of my mind by the grief.

I thought I would share my happy memories on here as well as over there.

• The very first memory I have of Bobby is seeing him on the screen at the 6 week scan. I had been bleeding so I took myself off to the EPU. Obviously all I saw was the sac but even then it was a magical moment and in a way, I am now grateful for the bleeding I had early on as I got to see my little man more then most, I’m just sorry that I did not ask for the scan pictures. I was asked to come back ten days later for another scan which would hopefully show a heartbeat.

• Of course it did and at this point I remember looking at him on the screen and thinking that he strongly resembled a shrimp. It was at this moment that I truly fell in love with him and had an overwhelming sense of responsibility for him even though he had yet to develop any limbs or any character as such.

• Bobby’s character soon shone through some weeks later and I knew deep down all along that he was a boy and a cheeky one at that. I thought I had felt flutters from 14 weeks but it wasn’t until 17 weeks that I felt the first kick. He loved to kick so much and would kick every day at certain times of the day. These kicks are the main thing I will always remember and if I’m honest, is what I miss most about his pregnancy.

• I can not remember which week it was when I woke up one morning on my back to find a hard lump sitting on my right hand side. It freaked me out so much that I posted on my old birth board to ask what it was and it was of course Bobby curled up asleep. From that day on I would wake to find him on my right hand side and strangely enough, it was also the side he went on to die on.

• The biggest memory I have of our time together was our ten day stay at hospital. As scary as the time was it was also the time where I truly felt connected to him. It was the time in which we truly bonded. Bobby would be nice and quite all day apart from the times where the MW’s would do their four hour rounds. He would kick every time the Doppler was placed on him and for some time afterwards as though he was saying ‘Oi! Leave me alone!’

• Thinking back, he would also start kicking when my OH arrived in the evening and the three of us would then spend the evening lying on the hospital bed, watching TV together in silence.

• Another memory from our hospital stay; bored one day and sat upright on the bed, I poked my belly button in only for it to poke back out again and for him to kick. I thought I was seeing things at first so I carried it on, laughing to myself and imagining him in there tugged on the cord.

• Then came the day he died. It’s hard to think of any nice memories of that day but having really thought about it, it was the day that his strong character really shone through, as did our Mother and Son connection. Having been rushed to the hospital in the ambulance and taken straight into the Triang Room; having the nurse tell me that he was probably dead only for his heartbeat to blare out loud over the monitor made me really proud of my Son. I thought ‘Thank you for proving her wrong’.

• Bobby was declared dead at 10:20am on the 2nd July yet I know that he died at 8:45am. I know because my body went into panic. I had a panic attack at that precise moment and once it was over, I felt different somehow. That is how strong our connection was. That (not very happy) memory and that feeling within my heart will last forever.

• After hours of riding the contractions, I had for some reason kept my right hand on the right of my stomach all the way through. When Sarah the MW came to check on me early Friday morning I mentioned that I felt a hard lump underneath my hand. ‘It’s the baby honey’ she said. I had held onto Bobby unknowingly, hand placed on top of him for hours. At one point I remember thinking to myself out of the blue ‘… let him go, take your hand away’. An hour later he was born. This not so happy memory makes me cry.

• A very bittersweet memory is from the day I went to visit him at the morgue; our first meeting. I was very scared of seeing him but once over the initial shock of seeing him in his basket I fell in love with him. He was my Son and the forty five minutes we spent together were happy but also extremely sad. It was the first time and I might add the only real time I have felt like a true Mother.

• I cried the whole way through and I feel silly to think of it now however, I tried my best not to let any tears drop onto him as I didn’t want to make him wet. What I found funny at the time and which still brings a smile to my face is that he made my arm ache. His legs and fingers were so long. I was amazed by his black eyebrows. I saw his Dad in him. He was so full of detail. I admit I’m not very good and never have been very good at holding babies but I automatically held him in my right arm and he fitted perfectly from elbow to finger tip. It felt right.

• My last and final memory of Bobby is of his funeral. I had secretly hoped all day that it would rain and as he was being placed into the grave it did. It made me smile and confirmed to me that his cheeky spirit really is causing mischief up there at this very moment.

I know I said this journal would be all about happy memories but reading back everyone of the above – including the not so happy – are happy in a strange way.

To me, happiness is not just about smiling or laughing. It’s also about the feeling of being proud of your child, having those precious memories safely tucked away for the rest of eternity. It’s about having a child who has changed your life forever and being proud to call yourself an Angel Mummy.