I’m sitting here at work where I should be doing last week’s payroll but my mind really isn’t on the job. I feel like I’m currently in a little bubble where I’m not sure what is reality and what isn’t, nor am I sure what to expect next.
Thursday night I had a mini breakdown while lying in bed trying to get to sleep. When I say a breakdown I mean I cried ‘hard’; the hardest I have cried since the week after Bobby’s death. So much so that when I woke Friday morning I had to go to work with swollen eyes. What a lovely look.
The OH went fishing on Thursday afternoon, which meant that Thursday evening was the first time I had an evening to myself for a good few weeks. I was looking forward to this evening by myself so that I could come home from work, chill out on the laptop, have an ‘early’ night and to maybe clear out Bobby’s clothes which were still hanging up in the wardrobe and to feel free to have the freedom to cry if I needed to without trying to hide it from my OH.
I did all of that apart from clearing his clothes out. I did that Friday after work before catching the train to go down to my parents for the weekend.
Taking his clothes out of the wardrobe really wasn’t as bad as I had imagined it would be. It was actually quite peaceful and although I got a little upset imagining what he should have looked like in some of the items, I didn’t find it as hard as I had built it up to be.
As originally planned, the items which we brought specifically for Bobby or what were brought for him by friends and family were placed into his memorial box. I don’t feel comfortable with the thought of our next child wearing Bobby’s clothes. What I didn’t want to keep I took with me to my parents and thankfully sold most of them at the car boot which we did on Sunday/yesterday.
I must admit having pregnant women coming up to our stall and looking through what should have been my Son’s clothes was hard and I did have to hold back the tears on a couple of occasions but it had to be done.
My 8 year old cousin would was with us came up to me during the day, gave me a cuddle and asked why Bobby had died. If only some adults were as interested as what she is.
I explained that Bobby was very special as he was needed to go to heaven so that he could look after those who he loved down here on Earth and that he was watching over us making sure we were ok. ‘He can’t see me!’ my Cousin said. I explained that he can see everyone and that she should be a good girl because she never knows when he is watching her. ‘But he can’t see everyone at once though’, she said. I replied with that because he was in Heaven he could do magical things and so he could look down on whoever he wanted whenever he wanted. Thankfully she didn’t come back with another smart comment because I had run out of responses lol.
I bought some Folic Acid tablets on Saturday which I have started to take to prepare my body for its next passenger when they should decide to board. We started TTC last night too. I think maybe that’s why my head is a little cloudy today because my mind is now constantly half full of ‘will it be next month’ and then half full of ‘don’t forget not to forget about Bobby’. I’m trying not to get my hopes up that this time next year we will finally have our Earth family but I can’t help it already.
Only time will tell.
Monday, 17 August 2009
Tuesday, 11 August 2009
What NOT to Say to An Angel Mummy
It was my best friends, little girl’s party on Saturday and we had to transform her court yard into a beach; queue the above photo.
It was a good day but a day where I met up with a lot of people for the first time since Bobby’s death.
I found out throughout the day, that my friend had obviously not told everyone the full story of Bobby’s death. I can’t remember the amount of times I had to re-account the events nor see the look of pity on people’s faces when I mentioned that, no I had infact gone through labour to deliver a dead child and yes! there was a funeral. What do people think happens to a baby after it is born asleep exactly? Where do they think they would possibly go?
I heard so many clichés that day I could write a fre aking Masters Degree Exam Paper on the subject.
The one that really p ss ed me off the most was; ‘s t happens’.
Yes s t does happen. we got s tt ed on big time but when your talking about my Son, please don’t mention the word s t in the same sentence as his name. You may not have heard him cry, he didn’t breathe the same air as you, nor open his eyes and see the same blue sky as you but he was still a human being. He was a pure innocent baby boy.
Of course I didn’t say that but now, sitting here typing away I wish I had. It’s now really fre aking bothering me.
I know that women especially don’t know what to say when faced with people like us but please if you don’t know what to say, say f k all and just give us a hug and a sorry instead.
It would be a lot more appreciated then fobbing us off with the first cliché that enters your head. We are worth more then a cliché!
Yes we are hurting like hell inside and yes we appear to be ok on the outside, but don’t presume for one moment that that means we are not crumbling away inside.
Angel Mummy’s wear our masks extremely well and rarely remove them in public.
Don’t presume that just because we appear to be listening to you rambling on about this and that and how bad your day has been, that we are not off in our own thoughts about what should have been and what bad days are really like.
Don’t take us at face value either. I’m not asking that your world should stop just because ours has, I’m asking that when you sit there and ask us ‘how are you?’, please listen to our answer before jumping onto the next topic of conversation. I mean REALLY listen to our answer, because if you listen hard enough, you will hear our truth.
Rant over. Mind a little clearer. Thank you for taking note of said above.
It was a good day but a day where I met up with a lot of people for the first time since Bobby’s death.
I found out throughout the day, that my friend had obviously not told everyone the full story of Bobby’s death. I can’t remember the amount of times I had to re-account the events nor see the look of pity on people’s faces when I mentioned that, no I had infact gone through labour to deliver a dead child and yes! there was a funeral. What do people think happens to a baby after it is born asleep exactly? Where do they think they would possibly go?
I heard so many clichés that day I could write a fre aking Masters Degree Exam Paper on the subject.
The one that really p ss ed me off the most was; ‘s t happens’.
Yes s t does happen. we got s tt ed on big time but when your talking about my Son, please don’t mention the word s t in the same sentence as his name. You may not have heard him cry, he didn’t breathe the same air as you, nor open his eyes and see the same blue sky as you but he was still a human being. He was a pure innocent baby boy.
Of course I didn’t say that but now, sitting here typing away I wish I had. It’s now really fre aking bothering me.
I know that women especially don’t know what to say when faced with people like us but please if you don’t know what to say, say f k all and just give us a hug and a sorry instead.
It would be a lot more appreciated then fobbing us off with the first cliché that enters your head. We are worth more then a cliché!
Yes we are hurting like hell inside and yes we appear to be ok on the outside, but don’t presume for one moment that that means we are not crumbling away inside.
Angel Mummy’s wear our masks extremely well and rarely remove them in public.
Don’t presume that just because we appear to be listening to you rambling on about this and that and how bad your day has been, that we are not off in our own thoughts about what should have been and what bad days are really like.
Don’t take us at face value either. I’m not asking that your world should stop just because ours has, I’m asking that when you sit there and ask us ‘how are you?’, please listen to our answer before jumping onto the next topic of conversation. I mean REALLY listen to our answer, because if you listen hard enough, you will hear our truth.
Rant over. Mind a little clearer. Thank you for taking note of said above.
Wednesday, 5 August 2009
Finding Out a Friend is Pregnant
I would have been 27 weeks today. Jesus. I know I need to stop doing this every Wednesday but Wednesdays still have meaning to me, as do; Thursday’s = the day he died, Friday’s = the day he was ‘born’, Tuesday’s = the day he was buried. Wednesday’s were our Milestone day. Wednesday was both scan days and the day I was taken into hospital and the day we were told our Son would die. Wednesday’s are a big deal to me.
I wonder how long it will take before I stop counting these days … after his due date … after his 1st Angel Birthday … when he was suppose to start school … his 18th? Maybe I’ll never stop counting and the last time I count will be the day that I die. That day where he is there to greet me; the day I get to hold him again and the day were I finally get to see what colour his eyes are.
I had that random thought yesterday while in the kitchen cooking dinner. It is obvious he took after my OH as he had his lips, nose, legs and black eyebrows which would mean I’m guessing, that he would of had black hair too; just like his Daddy. The only suggestion that I am his Mummy was his chin. I wonder if he had my Green eyes or if he really was his Dad’s spitting image and had his Dark Brown eyes. It’s something I will never know.
This week has been an emotional week, one of the hardest in fact since the two weeks post Bobby’s death.
Sunday night I found out that one of my old friends is pregnant which I won’t lie it upset me. We have already had this conversation so nothing I am typing is any news to her and this is not in anyway a rant at her as she knows I’m not upset with her personally, obviously.
I already have two friends who are currently pregnant and who were pregnant before I was, so I guess I am used to them being pregnant; although I’m not looking forward to their births.
This friend is the first to fall pregnant since Bobby’s death so I suppose it would be hard. Not through any fault of her own at all it reminded me of when I first found out I was pregnant and it brought back the excitement of everything being new. The first MW appt. the sickness, the scary aches etc etc. It just brought home to me the fact that I am not longer pregnant. It’s a sh * tty feeling to have when it finally hits you.
I also found out that my temporary job; which I was hoping would become permanent, had already been advertised before I got here so despite that fact that I may be here for three months say, I will still need to train the new person. I just need, no I WANT a job!
In the twelve years of working, I have never had so much trouble finding a permanent job. It’s been nearly two years now that I’ve been temping. At first it was fun but now it’s tiring me out. I’m tired of the worry about where money is coming from and if the bills are going to get paid each month. I admit this was a huge worry while pregnant with Bobby but TBH I got to the point where I didn’t care anymore. I was happy to sign on, I was happy to be pregnant, but now that I’m no longer pregnant, I need some sort of focus to take me away from feeling sorry for myself. I guess I’m tired of life giving me hope only for it to take it all back and shout ‘yeah right, think again’.
I went to the gym yesterday after work and I plan to go every Tuesday and Thursday. I’ve been feeling rather self conscious recently, namely because I’ve put on over a stone from the pregnancy and secondly because we do not seem to be DTD. I don’t know if it’s because I’m desperate to do it in order to fall pregnant and that’s why the lack of it is bothering me but I’ve been worrying that it’s because my OH no longer fancies me. I’ve been asking him every day and he always says ‘of course I do’, but it doesn’t help the way I feel. Another reason for the sudden interest in the gym is to get my body in shape for when I ‘do’ fall pregnant again.
I am determined that when I do fall pregnant, my body will have no excuse to kill my baby again. At least I now know what to look for and what I can and can’t get away.
I just hope that all the things I have always wanted in my life finally come together and we get the break that we so rightly deserve and which we have been waiting years to arrive.
I wonder how long it will take before I stop counting these days … after his due date … after his 1st Angel Birthday … when he was suppose to start school … his 18th? Maybe I’ll never stop counting and the last time I count will be the day that I die. That day where he is there to greet me; the day I get to hold him again and the day were I finally get to see what colour his eyes are.
I had that random thought yesterday while in the kitchen cooking dinner. It is obvious he took after my OH as he had his lips, nose, legs and black eyebrows which would mean I’m guessing, that he would of had black hair too; just like his Daddy. The only suggestion that I am his Mummy was his chin. I wonder if he had my Green eyes or if he really was his Dad’s spitting image and had his Dark Brown eyes. It’s something I will never know.
This week has been an emotional week, one of the hardest in fact since the two weeks post Bobby’s death.
Sunday night I found out that one of my old friends is pregnant which I won’t lie it upset me. We have already had this conversation so nothing I am typing is any news to her and this is not in anyway a rant at her as she knows I’m not upset with her personally, obviously.
I already have two friends who are currently pregnant and who were pregnant before I was, so I guess I am used to them being pregnant; although I’m not looking forward to their births.
This friend is the first to fall pregnant since Bobby’s death so I suppose it would be hard. Not through any fault of her own at all it reminded me of when I first found out I was pregnant and it brought back the excitement of everything being new. The first MW appt. the sickness, the scary aches etc etc. It just brought home to me the fact that I am not longer pregnant. It’s a sh * tty feeling to have when it finally hits you.
I also found out that my temporary job; which I was hoping would become permanent, had already been advertised before I got here so despite that fact that I may be here for three months say, I will still need to train the new person. I just need, no I WANT a job!
In the twelve years of working, I have never had so much trouble finding a permanent job. It’s been nearly two years now that I’ve been temping. At first it was fun but now it’s tiring me out. I’m tired of the worry about where money is coming from and if the bills are going to get paid each month. I admit this was a huge worry while pregnant with Bobby but TBH I got to the point where I didn’t care anymore. I was happy to sign on, I was happy to be pregnant, but now that I’m no longer pregnant, I need some sort of focus to take me away from feeling sorry for myself. I guess I’m tired of life giving me hope only for it to take it all back and shout ‘yeah right, think again’.
I went to the gym yesterday after work and I plan to go every Tuesday and Thursday. I’ve been feeling rather self conscious recently, namely because I’ve put on over a stone from the pregnancy and secondly because we do not seem to be DTD. I don’t know if it’s because I’m desperate to do it in order to fall pregnant and that’s why the lack of it is bothering me but I’ve been worrying that it’s because my OH no longer fancies me. I’ve been asking him every day and he always says ‘of course I do’, but it doesn’t help the way I feel. Another reason for the sudden interest in the gym is to get my body in shape for when I ‘do’ fall pregnant again.
I am determined that when I do fall pregnant, my body will have no excuse to kill my baby again. At least I now know what to look for and what I can and can’t get away.
I just hope that all the things I have always wanted in my life finally come together and we get the break that we so rightly deserve and which we have been waiting years to arrive.
Saturday, 1 August 2009
Loves Surprises
I received a letter from the hospital yesterday confirming an appointment at the end of August to see a Consultant Obstetrician to ‘discuss your recent pregnancy loss’.
It says in the letter that we will get the results back from the bloods which were taken after Bobby’s birth and the results from the placenta, as well as having the opportunity to discuss any future pregnancies and the care I may need when that time comes. There will also be a Counsellor present.
Whilst reading the letter out to my OH I asked him if he wanted to come. He said no and went on to explain that he doesn’t want to go because the Councillor will be there and it will be like dragging it all back up again and he thinks time will be enough for him.
He then went on to say, ‘plus you don’t need to see her either do you’, to which I replied, ‘well…’ He asked me what I meant and I told him that maybe it would be good to talk to someone about it and I confessed how I cry myself to sleep every night.
It seems silly but that was such a big thing to confess to him not only the crying part but also the fact that I was considering ‘help’. Even though I will willingly confess my inner most deepest feelings to the world via the Internet, I can not talk about my emotions with my friends or family. I even have trouble telling my parents that I love them; I’m not sure why. I was loved so much as a kid and although I’m a naturally very emotional person I can not express myself in that way to those nearest to me.
What my OH said next surprised me in a nice way.
He said ‘I sometimes cry too’. This is a very big thing to hear. He never ever, ever talks about his emotions either unless something slips out during an argument. He went on to say that he has ‘silly moments’ when he’s by himself and he thinks about things.
It just goes to show that despite being together for all this time and thinking we knew each other inside out, we are actually still able to surprise each other.
That’s nice and in a funny but sad way, it’s our Angel Bobby who’s made us realise that and it is he who has brought us together that little bit closer.
It says in the letter that we will get the results back from the bloods which were taken after Bobby’s birth and the results from the placenta, as well as having the opportunity to discuss any future pregnancies and the care I may need when that time comes. There will also be a Counsellor present.
Whilst reading the letter out to my OH I asked him if he wanted to come. He said no and went on to explain that he doesn’t want to go because the Councillor will be there and it will be like dragging it all back up again and he thinks time will be enough for him.
He then went on to say, ‘plus you don’t need to see her either do you’, to which I replied, ‘well…’ He asked me what I meant and I told him that maybe it would be good to talk to someone about it and I confessed how I cry myself to sleep every night.
It seems silly but that was such a big thing to confess to him not only the crying part but also the fact that I was considering ‘help’. Even though I will willingly confess my inner most deepest feelings to the world via the Internet, I can not talk about my emotions with my friends or family. I even have trouble telling my parents that I love them; I’m not sure why. I was loved so much as a kid and although I’m a naturally very emotional person I can not express myself in that way to those nearest to me.
What my OH said next surprised me in a nice way.
He said ‘I sometimes cry too’. This is a very big thing to hear. He never ever, ever talks about his emotions either unless something slips out during an argument. He went on to say that he has ‘silly moments’ when he’s by himself and he thinks about things.
It just goes to show that despite being together for all this time and thinking we knew each other inside out, we are actually still able to surprise each other.
That’s nice and in a funny but sad way, it’s our Angel Bobby who’s made us realise that and it is he who has brought us together that little bit closer.
Friday, 31 July 2009
Hello Aunt Flo
Well she finally knocked on my door today.
She's only light at the moment but I’ve got the tell tale cramps around the thighs and pelvis as pre Bobby so I know this is her and not the same mad cramping I had a couple of weeks back.
Funny enough, she has arrived four weeks to the day that I gave birth. Fate or a bad reminder; I’m not sure. Pre Bobby I was 28 days on the dot and I hope this will continue to be so.
This may sound strange but I’m going to do a pregnancy test when the AF finishes, just making sure I get a negative and we can then go from there. We are not going to try; as I’ve said previously, it will be a case of 'if it happens, it happens'. That way there will be no pressure and no expectations as there was the last time.
My Brother and I were in talks last night about doing a run to raise some money for SANDS. We haven’t confirmed any dates or where we will run yet but not only will it be a good goal to aim for, it will also, hopefully, get me back into shape.
I am doing a Car Boot in two weeks time with my Mum and my Aunt and I have decided to sell quite a few of the baby grows and the other items that I had for Bobby but that were not special. I’ve kept the special items of clothing which we brought him and which were brought by friends especially for him; they are in his memory box, but I have over 80 vests/sleep suites and they are doing nothing and will probably do nothing for quite a while.
Infact they are still hanging up in the wardrobe as I keep putting off taking them down but I think I am finally ready to do it. Thinking about doing it is bringing a tear to my eye, but they can’t be left hanging up forever as they are a reminder and they are in the wardrobe which my OH uses so it’s not fair on him to see them there every day either. I guess doing the car boot is an excuse because then I do have to do it.
And breathe. PMA. PMA.
She's only light at the moment but I’ve got the tell tale cramps around the thighs and pelvis as pre Bobby so I know this is her and not the same mad cramping I had a couple of weeks back.
Funny enough, she has arrived four weeks to the day that I gave birth. Fate or a bad reminder; I’m not sure. Pre Bobby I was 28 days on the dot and I hope this will continue to be so.
This may sound strange but I’m going to do a pregnancy test when the AF finishes, just making sure I get a negative and we can then go from there. We are not going to try; as I’ve said previously, it will be a case of 'if it happens, it happens'. That way there will be no pressure and no expectations as there was the last time.
My Brother and I were in talks last night about doing a run to raise some money for SANDS. We haven’t confirmed any dates or where we will run yet but not only will it be a good goal to aim for, it will also, hopefully, get me back into shape.
I am doing a Car Boot in two weeks time with my Mum and my Aunt and I have decided to sell quite a few of the baby grows and the other items that I had for Bobby but that were not special. I’ve kept the special items of clothing which we brought him and which were brought by friends especially for him; they are in his memory box, but I have over 80 vests/sleep suites and they are doing nothing and will probably do nothing for quite a while.
Infact they are still hanging up in the wardrobe as I keep putting off taking them down but I think I am finally ready to do it. Thinking about doing it is bringing a tear to my eye, but they can’t be left hanging up forever as they are a reminder and they are in the wardrobe which my OH uses so it’s not fair on him to see them there every day either. I guess doing the car boot is an excuse because then I do have to do it.
And breathe. PMA. PMA.
Thursday, 30 July 2009
Thoughts and Wants
Today our baby has been an Angel for a whole month.
Yesterday, I would have been 26 weeks pregnant; six and a half months gone.
Six and a half months seems such a long way to have come but it wasn't meant to be, we only made it to twenty two weeks. For whatever reason, five and a half months doesn't for some reason sound that impressive.
Tuesday is only two weeks ago that we buried him. It seems such a long time ago and yet at the same time it feels as though it never happened. Like the whole thing was a dream.
While lying in bed last night I had a random thought which turned into a fear. What if I get pregnant again and it turns out to be a boy? In all honesty I don't want another boy, it wouldn't feel right. It would feel like Bobby had been replaced with a baby which my body accepted and liked. It would make me feel even more guilty.
I can’t imagine never being pregnant again but I'm shit scared of falling pregnant again. Even though we are not trying to conceive we have had unprotected sex and although it’s only been two weeks since my post labour bleeding finished, I am yet to have my first visit from my AF.
I had twenty eight months of the 'am I, aren't I' question before falling with Bobby and to be back there again is horrible. It’s beyond horrible. It’s scary.
I really wish I had never fallen pregnant to start with and that we were still waiting to fall and when I do get pregnant, I wish that that baby was Bobby. I wish my body had waited to conceive him until it was ready to carry him to full term.
I loved being pregnant with him. He never gave me morning sickness. He kicked me every time I poked my belly to let me know he was there. He kicked every time the nurse checked his heartbeat at the hospital. We played our belly button game together.
Despite the early scares with the bleeding he hung on. Despite the stress I went through with losing my job he hung on. Despite my waters breaking and us being told he would die he hung on. He surprised the M/W and the Doctors when his heartbeat was heard after the cord prolapsed. He hung on all the way through until ultimately my body f*cked it all up and it suffocated him.
I want my Bobby back.
Yesterday, I would have been 26 weeks pregnant; six and a half months gone.
Six and a half months seems such a long way to have come but it wasn't meant to be, we only made it to twenty two weeks. For whatever reason, five and a half months doesn't for some reason sound that impressive.
Tuesday is only two weeks ago that we buried him. It seems such a long time ago and yet at the same time it feels as though it never happened. Like the whole thing was a dream.
While lying in bed last night I had a random thought which turned into a fear. What if I get pregnant again and it turns out to be a boy? In all honesty I don't want another boy, it wouldn't feel right. It would feel like Bobby had been replaced with a baby which my body accepted and liked. It would make me feel even more guilty.
I can’t imagine never being pregnant again but I'm shit scared of falling pregnant again. Even though we are not trying to conceive we have had unprotected sex and although it’s only been two weeks since my post labour bleeding finished, I am yet to have my first visit from my AF.
I had twenty eight months of the 'am I, aren't I' question before falling with Bobby and to be back there again is horrible. It’s beyond horrible. It’s scary.
I really wish I had never fallen pregnant to start with and that we were still waiting to fall and when I do get pregnant, I wish that that baby was Bobby. I wish my body had waited to conceive him until it was ready to carry him to full term.
I loved being pregnant with him. He never gave me morning sickness. He kicked me every time I poked my belly to let me know he was there. He kicked every time the nurse checked his heartbeat at the hospital. We played our belly button game together.
Despite the early scares with the bleeding he hung on. Despite the stress I went through with losing my job he hung on. Despite my waters breaking and us being told he would die he hung on. He surprised the M/W and the Doctors when his heartbeat was heard after the cord prolapsed. He hung on all the way through until ultimately my body f*cked it all up and it suffocated him.
I want my Bobby back.
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