Little boy, no matter how many children we go on to have they will never replace you, never bring you back, and never be you. Another baby doesn’t overwrite you or the time we had together or the love that we felt for you. A rainbow doesn’t lessen the storm. You were our perfect storm. We’ll never forget you. Having another child cannot “fix us” because you will always be missing. You will always be part of our family. We’re a 4, not a 3. Wherever I go, you go x
I haven’t wrote to you here in a long time. So I should probably mention your sibling, our third pregnancy, which we’re 17 weeks pregnant with today. Little Spearink-Jones “SJ” came as a complete shock to us a week into the new year, just before your due date. We hadn’t started trying again, and have no idea how we conceived so easily this time after all the previous trouble trying. It meant I was pregnant 3 times with 3 babies in the space of a year, and 7 weeks pregnant on your due date, it all felt wrong and I was scared we’d lose SJ too. People always try to comfort themselves/others by saying “what are the odds of it happening again?” but the truth is: the odds remain the same.
We’ve had more appointments with SJ, to ease my mind, as I’m still low-risk with a healthy baby. Oh how I wish we’d had this many with you. I truly believe we wouldn’t have intercepted or prevented your death, I just wish we’d seen you more before we never got to see you again. We’ve seen SJ wiggling around, hiding their face, being a little pickle at every scan, and heard their heartbeat so many times, and hopefully many many more times. SJ looks like you, the similarity made my cry at our 13 week scan.
We’ve slowly started to let ourselves get excited. We found out the gender yesterday and have planned a mini gender reveal party this weekend, and started shopping for gendered items. Both things we were really looking forward to with you, but never got to do.
I know you’re always with us. Please keep looking after your little sibling x
How do you know when its the right time to try again? That you’re ready and not just anxious?
On the one hand, I should still be pregnant now and I loved being pregnant, we already decided we want a baby so all of that decision process has been done, yes we want a child. But on the other hand Cass shouldn’t even be born yet, so being pregnant with another seems strange when I should still be carrying him. And that’s only after: wondering if I’ve conceived this month, will my period come tomorrow, did I remember to take my vitamins today.. Cause god knows its not as simple as just deciding we’re ready and then poof it happens here’s a baby. I know there’s nothing physically wrong with me, I know it, yet it feels like there’s so much wrong.
Then there’s the first trimester yuckiness, starting all over again with the size milestones, “it’s the size of a grape now”, and all that. Having my 3rd first scan in under 14 months. Worrying if there’s a heartbeat, praying they are growing and will start kicking soon.
Before it was always a case of ‘what if it doesn’t happen this month’ but now we’ll also have ‘but what if it does’ both outcomes are now equally terrifying. No one in my position wouldn’t be a nervous wreck throughout a pregnancy following loss, that’s what I have to prepare for; to be worried every day. I suppose there is no right time for that.
The big question is am I ready to hope again? To let in the potential for another heartbreak.
We have an appointment for the results of your post mortem this Thursday, to see if they know what caused your death or not.
Others may not understand but I’d feel better if they found nothing, a freak incident; that’s the result I’ve been expecting because that’s my preference, but now the results are back I can’t help but go to worst case scenarios. In my mind I’d obsess less next time if I knew it wasn’t something I carry, something that is likely to repeat.
I’m so sorry Cass, that it feels like I’m putting any future babies before you. I should want to know what happened to you, and I do, I’m just scared. I’ve had so much hope for next pregnancy, that it’ll all go okay and I’ll be bringing home a baby, but they could shatter it all with your results. We know how quickly your life can be turned upside down, and I’m pretty sure there’s no limit on how many times it can happen. There’s so many things it could be, many are recurring, many can’t be prevented. For me there would be nothing worse than knowing it’s unlikely I’d ever have a living baby, or that something in me damages their health. We started trying for a baby when I was 22, I’m going to be 25 in 9 months. I’m not a child person at all, but I’ve always known I wanted a family, to be a wife and mother.
We’ll just have to deal with what comes next.
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.