A post I wrote for BritMums blogging prompt 'Flashback' :
#4 was born last year and counting backwards from her I have been giving birth every two years...
So 5 years ago exactly... I was pregnant for the 4th time. I had had
my beautiful, beautiful first baby boy who was stillbron at 32 weeks of
pregnancy. Then my two daughters, and then a new bump who had been
baptised PG tips until we would be in a position to choose between
Philemon and Genevieve. I was fairly secure in the belief that - since
the pregnancies of my two girls had been closely followed and showed no
sign of anything untowards - what had happened the first time wouldn't
happened again. I had even started again to imagine life with a new
baby. It's something I had not allowed myself to do when expecting my
daughters ; grieving thoughts of what could have been is very painful
I had also just started to wear a dress, turned into a floaty top, that I used to wear when I was expecting my first baby.
And then it happened all over again. On the same week of pregnancy,
the same month of the year, October. The baby not moving. The trip to
the assessment day unit. The heart monitor that couldn't detect a heart
beat. The scan that showed and confirmed that the baby's heart had
stopped. By that stage I knew what was coming and didn't want to look at
the screen, hanging instead onto the hand of the midwife who was with
me. But the person doing the scan asked me to look. I think that at that
moment I shut down, I went numb, it was just so hard, so hard... My
lifebuoy was a picture of my two girls on my phone, I kept staring at
At least this time I was ready, I had lived the same grief before and
I knew I wanted to hold my baby. And in the time between the scan and
the birth that wonderful baby gave me a wonderful gift. I finally
finished grieving my first boy. I accepted. Whether the first time I was
kicking and screaming inside (outside I just curled up on my bed and
moaned that I wanted my baby back), this time I accepted, I knew I could
live through it. And when my second baby boy was born I held him for a
long time and I felt at peace. It's only much later that the pain came
but I was ready for it.
Two years later I had another baby, the baby I - by then - thought I
would never have, a baby boy. I had grieved the hope to have a boy and
the birth of my son was a miracle in the full meaning of the word.
Two more years and another baby, not planned but very much wanted as
soon as I found out (and had recovered from the shock!). A baby girl,
little sister to my son, born in October, the same month than her two
other brothers, my two angels.