Today should have been the day we got to meet in person, after so many months of waiting and the excitement at every scan, watching your heartbeat flicker away on the screen. Even though you were only with us 16 weeks it felt so right deep inside, you getting bigger and stronger everyday. A little miracle whom brought so much joy and excitement, a new journey and adventure in life.
Caught up in all of the excitement and anticipation we couldn’t help but buy you things, a little cuddly elephant amongst many others, just for you. I sleep with that little elephant wrapped in a blanket by my side – where you should have been. I can only imagine your little hand gripping the trunk and never letting go. I would have done anything to keep you safe, only my body let you down, and I am so sorry.
That day will never leave me, it is engraved on my mind, I can relive every detail about losing you. Being told it is not your fault, these things happen, but why, why is there nothing that can be done to stop it and the hurt that follows? How do you go from a low risk, to losing everything in the space of 24 hours. Gone. Now I am just left with a box of things to remember you with, an empty space and a broken heart.
It has been the most isolating experience of my life battling all the feelings of shame, pain and failure going through my mind. I have thought long and hard about whether or not to post this, and then it hit me, I am always asking people why they care what others think. Telling them to put themselves first and what is best for them not others, and I would hate for you to think I was ashamed of you when you were my most treasured accomplishment.
Then I have to wonder if miscarriage is so common – why does no one talk about it? Why does no one know what to say to you? Why are you made to feel ashamed when you are hurting so much inside? Perhaps if more people spoke about it, others would know how to be around you, not be worried to ask you questions, not be worried to bring it up in case you break down. All these bottled up feelings wouldn’t be as hard to comprehend and maybe it would be easier to deal with them. I don’t want my gorgeous little angel baby to be a secret anymore, I don’t want to feel ashamed of something so precious and a massive part of my life with the most special person I have been with who means the world to me.
In a desperate attempt to fill this void I was faced with, I stupidly hit the food, comfort eating solves nothing, and I am left with another obstacle of re-losing all the weight I had lost previously. The thing is I just wanted to feel like you were still there; I wanted to get bigger every month like I should have been. The never-ending battle just keeps going. All the time knowing that your little feet will never walk, your tiny hands will never hold, your lips will never talk.
Remembering what it was like to hold you in your knitted basket all wrapped up, cosy and safe for one last night together. The main thing is that I have now accepted this is not something you ever get over – you just learn to live with it. To ease the feelings I have tried to write, but I have so many blocks it just ends up like a word vomit on the page. I have tried to plough into college work, but my mind is elsewhere filled with what ifs and whys. Then there is my drawing and doodling, which is the only thing that helps me escape, I can go into my own little world where the pain is numbed and feelings can pour out on to the page.
This is for you Skye on what should have been your day of birth, but instead on The 13th August 2017 ‘An angel from the book of life wrote down my baby’s birth and whispered as she closed the book – too beautiful for Earth.’