When your already broken heart shatters – by Simone
Where to begin, oh where to begin…the last 16 days have been a complete and absolute rollercoaster ride of emotions.
From initially thinking we were losing baby Thomas 2 Thursday’s ago, to things seeming to stabilise a bit; to a terrible scan, to a somewhat improved scan; from
one medical complication to another; to being allowed out of hospital for a few hours 2 days in a row as a test drive to see how things went; to making it to 26 weeks and being allowed to go home with strict instructions around bed rest; to being back in hospital 36 hours later with what felt like contractions; to thinking it was just the cervix being irritated because I had now “passed” the clot; to suddenly being in labour and needing to deliver this precious little boy immediately; to delivering this little boy not knowing if he would be alive or dead; to still not knowing if he was alive or dead; to hearing that tiny little cry and being so relieved that he was alive; to having hope for a few hours that he might make it; to being told he had had a massive bleed and wouldn’t make it; to holding him for the first and last time; to saying hello and goodbye in the same breath.
I am physically and emotionally beaten. This entire ordeal, and all the physical complications that seemed to pop up at every turn, the adrenaline and release of hormones, as well as surgery to facilitate a c-section delivery, has absolutely finished me physically. I am so so weak. My body seems to have gone on strike. But I can’t seem to rest properly either. I can’t fall into that deep restful sleep that I know I need to recover. I same to just doze in and out of consciousness not being able to fully let go.
Emotionally I don’t even know where to start. I am now grieving the loss of another child. 2 completely different situations but still so much loss. There are things I don’t have to deal with in this loss – I hadn’t started to prepare for Thomas’ arrival into our home yet, nothing has been bought yet, he hadn’t physically become a part of our home and lives yet, but mentally we had been preparing ourselves for his arrival, taking about him between James and myself and to Murray, telling him about the baby brother he was getting, showing him the scan pictures which had proudly been placed on our fridge. We had been rejoicing in this gift which I truly believed had been sent directly from heaven by Bella, we had been making plans and envisaging our lives again with 2 children in it, I had been finding so much comfort from this little boy growing inside me. And for all of that to suddenly be gone, it takes my already broken heart and shatters it.
In some ways I had started to feel, just pre all of this happening, like I was starting to get my head above water a little bit. Like I was starting to cope with life a little, that I didn’t have that constant drowning feeling, like I wasn’t making it. Some days I was waking up feeling okay about the day, ready to face its challenges.
And now I am drowning again. Not able to get the breath I need to carry on. Knowing that I will survive this because I know that I have to, but actually not knowing how. I am in that deep dark place again where everything feels wrong, uncomfortable, where the waves feel too high, too vigorous, come too often, and where I feel I am drowning.
But there are also things I know that I need to be eternally grateful for. My incredible husband who loves and supports me through everything, who stands there with me, carrying me through things when needs be, my partner in life and the best father for Murray I could ever hope for. Our darling sweet little boy Murray, our beacon of life and hope, the little person who I force myself to get out of bed for every day. Thank goodness he is too young to understand how much his presence is holding his parents together and guiding them through their darkness. Our amazing family and friends, who once again rally around us, wrap us in cotton wool and support us in whatever way they can. And then to the phenomenal medical care that Thomas and I have received over the last little while, world class in every little aspect. I always knew that our best interests were being taken care of, that I never had to second guess anything, and that we were in the best hands possible. I had people who really really cared looking after us, who felt our ups and downs along with us and who are equally devastated at our outcome. And for all these things I will always be eternally grateful.
I know that we will get through this, because I know that we have to, we have no choice. But at the moment I am wandering, stranded in the wilderness, feeling like I am unable to make my way back home.
Thomas and Belsie – I comfort myself knowing that you are together in heaven, looking down on your parents and brother, willing us to know that you are okay. Take care of each other up there, treasure each other as we treasure the memories of you down here.
I love you with every fibre of my being.
Simone, my heart is bleeding for you! I have to deal (medically/surgically and emotionally) with these kinds of events more frequently than any of us would like. So, I wanted to thank you for articulating everything so beautifully. It allows a deeper understanding and empathy all around. Don’t stop writing. Wishing you strength xxx
Thank you so much Ilana! if we can try and help others in their journey in some way, then this blog is doing its job!
I won’t go into the emotional aspect because there’s absolutely nothing I can say that you don’t already know. Thank you for typing. I’d wanted to ask Vusi to find out from James how you folk are doing but we’re always so scared of intruding.
I hope the physical wounds heal up quickly. That your body recovers and allows your soul to knit itself again, even though nothing will be perfectly happy right now-if ever.
Thankful that Murray continues to give you both something wonderful to look forward to, to nurture, to lead and guide.
You never have to be scared of intruding Thandi! Thank you for your continued beautiful words and interaction, they are so appreciated!
With love and thanks, Simone
Oh Simone what is there to say? Thank you for writing. I can only hope that time will allow some healing and recovery and that the love surrounding you and James and Murray will enable that process to unfold.