If you know me in real life and have found this blog, please honour my wishes and don't read on. I need this place to freely write my feelings to help me to heal and if you're reading, I'll censor myself. I have no way of knowing who is reading so all I can do is trust you to honour my wishes. Thank you.

(this doesn't apply to any of my fellow mums of angels I've been lucky enough to meet in real life)

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

This time last year...

For the last few days whenever there's a quiet moment I'm thinking about 'this time last year'. Well this time last year was the last day Matilda's movements were normal before my placenta started failing and her movements dramatically slowed and then stopped. I was sitting happily in my hospital room watching DVDs, emailing friends, and just taking it one day at a time. There were a number of uncertainities about what we and Matilda would be facing but I didn't think (or maybe I didn't let myself think) there was a chance of her dying. A couple of weeks after she died we went back to speak the neonatologist and one of the things I wanted to ask was whether I'd totally underestimated how serious things were. I didn't think I had because I was sure they would have had the bereavement team involved before her birth if that was the case and asking us about baptism before she was born. And that was right, they didn't expect her to die.

We went to the hospital for the International Pregnancy Loss service on October 15. The nurse who'd looked after Matilda the most was there and we cried together. I asked if she'd looked after other babies with BWS and before Matilda she'd looked after a set of 27 week twins who both had BWS. They didn't make it either. And then since Matilda she's looked after two more who both did fine and went home after a few weeks.

Max is asleep on my chest in the sling. We've just hung out the nappies and will fill the day feeding, sleeping, cuddling, and lying on the play mat. I feel guilty still being so sad when I know how lucky I am to have Max. I feel guilty about not being sad enough because how can I be sad all the time when I have Max. I feel guilty that we're not planning anything much for Matilda's birthday but I just don't think I can face other people's sadness as well as my own broken heart on Saturday. I think we're just going to take Max to the park and sit under a tree and remember her. And I'll donate to the hospital charity in her name. It doesn't feel like enough but I know nothing will.

The other big hospital in our city with a NICU is on a fundraising drive at the moment and there were a few articles in the paper yesterday about the NICU. About miracle babies born at 23/24 weeks that had made it. Articles about miracle babies are bittersweet now (now so many things) - I'm happy those parents got to take their babies home but can't help wonder why they could save those babies but not Matilda. I was grateful one of the articles about one of the specialists there did mention a couple of times there's trajedy in the NICU as well as joy and not all babies make it. People only see the miracle stories and assume everyone gets one. When Matilda was in the NICU friends just assumed it'd be a matter of time till she'd be coming home - not that she was very sick.

This time last year Matilda was alive and kicking up under my ribs on a regular basis. I listened to her heartbeat on the CTG and it went up and down like it should. I wish there was a 'this time last year we bought Matilda home from the hospital' coming up.


  1. (((((HUGS)))) I wish there was a this time last year we brought Matilda home too... xo

  2. Maddie,
    Thinking of you today, wishing Matilda was home with you and celebrating a first birthday in person.

    with love,