The Day After

I spent the night alone in the birthing suite. I was so weirdly concerned about the staff around me. They had been SO incredible and beautiful to me and all I could think was that their Christmas night had been spent helping a woman deliver a baby who had chosen not to create a life of pure struggle. The way they treated me showed me they were truly affected. Such incredible humans. I say that... but I'd be lying if I didn't say at least once a day I wonder if I might have been the one person who had the baby who defied all odds and should have made a different decision. But any normal human would feel the same. And there will be thousands who feel I should have tried to save her despite the (what was described as - in a kind way) hideous challenges of her life would have been. I'll never forget that neonatal doctor. The way he looked at me. I knew from the way he spoke and looked at me that he was truly heartbroken yet felt I had gone against the "save my own grief and save my baby from a life of pure... I'll call it challenge - but in my head the adjective is vastly different) - he never made me for a second feel like I was doing the wrong thing - he was truly devastated for me.

His face is burnt into my memory and that's huge for me - I have almost zero facial recognition but that face... I laid alone. Suri was in a crib beside me. My deceased infant. Just laying there quietly beside me alone in that huge room. The silence....

I would look over at her sweet tininess and die inside again every single time. But the beauty of her. It was the only thing that gave me any power to even take a breath. I hope no one reading this ever has to know what it's like to spend a night with your passed baby. My emotions kept spinning between huge guilt that I wasn't constantly holding her (I would periodically cuddle her) and then also being terrified to see her as each hour passed. To see her become less and less.... alive.

They took her to the bereavement room and I spent the rest of the night wide awake. I laid there trying to come to terms with my post natal body. I bled. I hurt. But I had no baby...I hadn't had that shower - the first shower. I just laid there. I'd had to pass the placenta over an hour after I had her because I wasn't capable until I was lucid. I just laid there alone in pure silence, Adam gone because of the Covid vax restrictions.

I'll never forget how long every minute lasted. I was in a level of hell I never knew existed.

My body was so fucking empty and my heart.... oh god for every woman who has felt this, I die again inside.

I guess it was around 7 or 8 am - an entire new staff walked in. Easily 6 people. I wish I knew who was who, but they all came in and said they were replacing the Christmas night staff. One slightly older nurse demanded "Why are you alone?" I explained that the Covid rules meant I had given birth and my not double-vaxxed husband was no longer allowed in. They each looked at each other, horrified. I don't remember who said it, but "Get that man an exemption immediately... this goes so far beyond bureaucracy".

It took a while. Not because of Adam, but because trying to get back IN was mild hell. He parked illegally to get to me as fast as he could as and some sort of fate would have it - he was never towed.

When he finally got back to my room they offered to bring Suri back, Can you imagine trying to figure out whether spending time with your deceased baby was for the best or not? I always looked to Adam in those moments to see if he needed more. He always said yes. I found it oddly calming to hold my dead child. Adam.... he was so fucking broken by it. We we then moved to the ward. The "ward". The fucking Maternity ward. Initially it seemed like heaven. We brought Suri with us who was covered with a blanket so as to not upset other mothers, I do get that. However we were brought to the fucking maternity ward. The first night they found us trying to sleep beside each other in the single ward bed and to be honest we didn't care. They asked when we would like Suri to go to the fucking morgue and Jesus Christ on a pushbike I've never had to hold my shit together more. I looked at my crying husband and said "It might be time time to say goodbye". I was DYING inside but he was so fucking heartbroken I stroked his face and said "We need to let her go honey."

He agreed. We cuddled our deceased sweetheart. She was so cold and stiff. I want to throw up even typing this. But I watched Adam kiss her like she was a living, breathing child and then hand her to me, "We are ready" I told the staff.

They took her away then. Forever.

That's all I can write right now.... That moment as they wheeled her away in her crib.... fuck.