I’ve been trying to write a post that expresses my thoughts about the last year…but I can’t come up with anything that makes sense.
This year has been the worst year of our lives. Hopefully it will prove to be the lowest of our days.
Now, just over a year after our second child was stillborn, we have so much to look forward to. Our third baby is scheduled to be born on Tuesday morning (15th December). Call me selfish but I’d really like it if things went pretty much normally for us. A birth without drama, a live healthy baby.
The last few weeks, even months, have been difficult. Neither of us have slept well for as long as we can remember so we’re just getting more and more tired. From time to time one or both of us will be so stressed out we’re just about keeping a lid on things, be it from worry about the pregnancy or all the reminders of Littlegirl’s death and birth and the days around that period that this time of year brings up.
Now, we’re nearly there and our thought turn to nerves about the actual birth and the fact that we’ve thought so little about the prospect of actually having a baby in our lives that I at least feel very unprepared for what is to come. I don’t know what to expect or how I’ll feel about it all. I suspect its going to be tough to reconcile my happiness at the birth and how much it reminds me about how hard things were with Littlegirl – and how much we have lost.
I know that this is a lovely problem to have!
So, tomorrow my wife has one last check up with the doctor in the morning, and we’ll go over to the hospital in the evening to get her settled in for the night. On Tuesday we’re told that we are first on the list for Caesareans.
Who knows, maybe by lunchtime we will be taking our first steps into another new chapter in our lives.
Having recently done a gardening course I’ve concluded that grief is like making compost! You take all the horseshit you’ve been dumped with and all the cuttings of social stress that come with the loss. Every layer of difficulty gets piled up in your mind, sometimes to be dug over, generally just to undergo its own slow transformation into something that can hopefully provide the basis for healthy growth in the future. It takes time. It can’t be rushed, and shouldn’t be tampered with. It needs a little air now and then or it become unhealthy.