It’s been 3 weeks and 3 days Cass. Time is a funny thing. Now there’s a before and after.
I realised earlier how grateful I was that your anomaly scan was pushed back, I’m so glad I got that extra time with you, we were together for just a bit longer and I needed that. I needed all the time I could get with you, because that was it.
Fragile – the only word I can think to describe myself at the moment. Everyone tells me how strong I am, but I don’t feel strong at all. It feels like if you poke me I’ll shatter into pieces. I’ve always been sensitive but now everything feels like a personal attack, the slightest bit of criticism and in my head I go right to ‘I can’t do anything right’ vs ‘please cut me even more slack than you already are because my baby died and I can’t handle negativity’. I feel like everything in my life has to go well right now, I deserve something to go right? But life doesn’t work like that.
I mourn the life you could have had
I mourn everything you missed out on
I mourn everything we missed out on
I mourn the me I could have been
It could all have been so different
In another life
I found out at my scan at 13 weeks that I had an anterior placenta. I thought ‘bit of a bummer, means I won’t feel the baby as soon or as strongly’…
Little did I know then how much I needed to. Only now do I feel robbed. I thought I felt him moving when I later found out he was already dead at that point. And it’s made me question how much of his movements were actually him. I felt a fluttering for the first time on my birthday at 17 weeks. I thought I felt him roughly ever other day at night when I laid down. But now who knows, it could have just been my body doing its thing the whole time.
I miss my bump. I’ve never liked my body really, particularly my middle, and always wore baggy clothes to hide it. I didn’t want to hide my bump though, I wanted everyone to see it. I’ve never been happier with my body than when I was pregnant. Knowing what changes it was making and why. I’m still quite proud of it, it nourished and developed my son for 20 weeks, and still kept trying even after his heart stopped, it didn’t give up.
One week apart. Back to my pre-pregnancy squish.
Went to the pond they recently put in up the road, that we often imagined coming to with a pram.
There’s still no ducks Cass, we’ll let you know when there are 🦆
It hurts my heart a bit to see the clothes we bought for him. We bought a mix of sizes from newborn-6 months, and everything is fairly gender-neutral as we didn’t get to find out he was a boy until he died. The weekend just gone we had planned a day out to buy more baby clothes.
As we will be trying for another baby in the future we’ve decided to keep all his things. I know I’ll change my mind when the time comes, but it makes me feel uneasy to imagine another little person in Cass’ clothes and pram etc as they weren’t intended for anyone else, they’re his, he just never got to use them.
I’ll just have to think of them as hand-me-downs, a gift from their big brother.
“You have no idea how much you’ll love them until you see them” – it’s true. Even before you meet them you love them but its not the same. It’s not as overwhelming and all-consuming.
I wasn’t ready to be a mum, I was only 21 weeks, I thought I had 19 more to build up to it, but it turns out I was so ready to love him. I wasn’t ready but I became ready the moment he was there – ready to hold him, feed him, dress him, raise him.. all the things I now couldn’t do, would never do, yet ached to do. So I did all I could do instead. I stroked his tiny cheek, fussed with the blanket he was wrapped (swamped) in, read him stories, took as many pictures as possible, and planned all the ways we could keep his memory alive.