LUKE- 02.09.2023
Labour was horrible. For as long as I remember I always wanted a natural birth, no medication. I actually bought a book on hypno-birthing but that all went out of the window when it came to it. Plymouth hospital has a lovely ward called Ocean Suite and it is specifically for parents who have/will lose their baby. It is separate from the usual maternity ward, it has a kitchen, a bathroom, a room to give birth in and a room so that you can spend time with your baby and even sleep there if you need.
The midwives were LOVELY, I honestly cannot say that enough and I will never be able to thank them for how kind and understanding they were with us. We even had a student midwife, and I can wholeheartedly say that midwifery was her calling.
If you've ever been induced you'll know what happens, they stick some pills up you to try and bring on the contractions, and this happens every 3 hours until, eventually, you give birth. We were given absolutely no time frame because everyone is different. Half an hour went by and my back was KILLING me, I had no idea what contractions were so we thought that MAYBE it wouldn't take all day to give birth, how I was wrong. We went for a McDonald's and by the time we got back to the room, contractions started. If you know much about labour, contractions are usually every 5- 15 minutes and last around 60-90 seconds. Mine however, were every 30 seconds, 30 seconds on 30 seconds off. I will tell you now that is NOT enough time to get over a contraction.
This lasted for 6 hours.
I felt bad for asking for more pain relief, the paracetamol didn't work, neither did the codeine and by the time Luke was being born I was practically just breathing on gas and air. I know why I felt bad, I felt that because of where I was, and what I was doing, I shouldn't be taking the midwives attention away from the alive babies and real parents.
Luke was born at 18:18 (which is in fact the angel number for the struggle to end soon), I said the whole time that he would be born alive, this isn't common for babies so young and after 22 weeks you have to have an injection that stops their heart. My husband says he flew out, which makes sense because I was quite literally giving birth to the amniotic sac, my waters didn't break right until the last moment. I remember it being such a relief when they had burst, the pain almost instantly stopped, and there he was, our baby boy. He was tiny obviously, but very much a baby, with fingers and toenails and everything that would make a baby. The midwives weighed him and he was 350g, smaller than a bag of sugar. He looked like his dad, of course.
But he was alive, very much alive, trying to breathe oxygen into his tiny little lungs. His heart beating, his chest pulsating underneath my fingertip.
I was knackered, My husband got to spend most of the time with him, our little fighter and so, he passed away after living for 2 hrs and 12 minutes in his dads arms.
We could've spent more time with him and the night, but after we took his footprints, we both felt that it was time to say goodbye, that it felt kind of morbid to continue to take photos of him. He was gone, and no amount of photos or hand-prints could stop this nightmare from being true.
Now
So that's the end of his story, the last moment our baby boy was alive. I remember the student midwife telling me that "even though he's gone, you're still his mummy" and that will always stay with me, because no matter what anyone says, we did the right thing by our child. No parent wants to see their child suffer for a moment, let alone for the rest of their life.
I'm not stopping the blog by any means, I have REALLY struggled to find help. It was a 6 week wait for my counselling, a 12 week wait for Plymouth pregnancy crisis care, and I had to pay for sessions with a TFMR charity. I have had counselling now, in fact I had second session yesterday, and I thought i was doing better until I saw a new born baby on my Facebook. It completely caught me by surprise, I had no idea that the mum was expecting (not that anyone is obliged to put something on social media). It just caught off guard, and I had an absolute MELTDOWN on the way to my session and thank god I was on the way to see my therapist and not to the gym or an eyelash appointment. Most of the reason is that Luke would've been due in 2 days, I would've been the one posting on facebook, telling the world that I have brought a new life, but that's not me and I can't help but feel SO jealous that others are living my life-long dream of being a mum.
New Year, Old Me.
Nothing has changed, being a new year. I'm still the same, I am still baby-less, I still have the mum bod without the mum part and I still have a wrong head. But, I will get better this year, I will eat better and lose the weight (and take my 5mg folic acid everyday) and I will take each day on the chin, getting better will not be an overnight thing.
2023 was for Luke, and 2024 will be for myself and my husband. Happy New Year Everyone xx
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