When I was in the hospital in May, one of the midwives told me that I would eventually have more good days than bad days. She was right; by July on the whole I was feeling reasonably positive and managing to keep my spirits up. That took a major blow when we lost my mother in law, and especially since the funeral I’ve been struggling to plaster on a smile, while the tears seem to be just around the corner all the time. So I keep reminding myself of what that kind midwife said, and I keep telling myself that eventually I’ll laugh more than I cry, and I’ll be able to think about my mother in law and our baby without getting uncontrollably sad.
I wanted to thank those of you who left such kind comments on my last couple of posts. Comments are only small things, but just knowing that people are thinking of us, if only for a brief moment, lifts my spirits that little bit more.
My mood has been somewhat unpredictable recently. Having suffered with mild depression a couple of years ago, I’ve been trying to keep an eye on my mood in an effort to catch myself before I fall too far, but also to be able to recognise if I need more help than positive affirmations can offer.
Wednesday was a day of complete contrasts for me. First thing in the morning we heard that my sister in law had given birth to a beautiful baby girl – our first niece! We were so thrilled and excited and happy for them, and GG turned into a real old softie at the prospect of being an uncle to a little girl for the first time! But then later on Wednesday we had an appointment with our obstetrician to discuss the results of all the tests that were done on me and my placenta when we lost the baby. I was a wreck when we arrived at the hospital, especially as the waiting room was plastered in pictures of newborn babies, and littered with pamphlets and magazines discussing how best to have a healthy pregnancy. The appointment itself was fine; our doctor is lovely, and very patiently explained the results of each test. All the results were fine, and there was really no explanation for our loss. The only possibility offered was that there could have been a bleed under the placenta which would obviously have prevented nutrients and oxygen getting to our baby.
We had mentioned to the obstetrician that GG’s sister was possibly still in the hospital with the baby, and she insisted on going off and checking for us, then taking us to the midwife-led unit to see her. She handed us over to a midwife, who, assuming I suppose that we were expecting a baby as we’d been with the obstetrician, started to give us a mini-tour of the maternity ward as we were led to GG’s sister’s room. I didn’t have the heart to set her straight, even as the sick feeling came back when she showed us one of the rooms and asked if I’d be delivering my baby in that unit. But then we got to meet our brand new, sixteen hour old niece. And she is beautiful. She was a good weight, at 8lbs 6.5ozs, but I suppose it’s been such a long time since I held a newborn so she seemed so small! She has the deepest dark blue eyes, and a good amount of brown hair. GG was captivated by her attempts to squint up at us to see who was holding her! Because of course we both got a cuddle. My sister in law, L, was looking well, if a bit tired, and we were so glad to have had that opportunity to meet baby M so soon.
So it was an up and down day. On the one hand, the joy of meeting the newest member of our family, on the other, the pain of our loss made fresh by going over all the events leading up to my miscarriage and then the effort to find out a reason why. If I’m honest, I don’t feel any better now I’ve found out there was no reason for it. I suppose I’ve just got to let time heal the wounds. If only I could develop a little patience.