This week week was the nightmare week. The Monday last year was the Day she was born the day we went for 9 am to be induced and by 9pm was well on her way.
This day was filled with fears, quietness and laughter. Laughter because the chair was stupid and Daddy nearly fell off it, laughter because we are still human and we were meeting our baby that day. Laughter because you forget you still hope and because the last time you were doing this you took the baby home.
The day before I slowly slowly crocheted a dress for Elva. I wanted to so badly make her something I’m a crafting mummy after all. But I didn’t have the energy. After being offered items I knew she had to wear what I made not someone else. Choosing the colours was hard I wanted bright and colourful to reflect me and her but I didn’t want a plain colour. This wool I bought to make her a jumper it was always intended for her from the moment I picked it online. I also always planned to make her a cord tie. They get in the way less than hospital clips and as this was a unique situation I thought why not. I made it to match from embroidery thread with no need to boil it sterile.
The shock of a delivery that didn’t go as planned but did at the same time. I birthed her myself, I avoided an epidural, I kept active and I felt that warm body leave mine. I felt her move down, crown and slip out like an octopus. I had the classic my waters have gone she’ll be here soon. A huge gush unlike my previous vaginal delivery. The shock of me realising she was here and Daddy not because he was still secretly waiting for that lovely cry. He wondered why I stopped crying in pain why I stopped I whispered she was here.
She was handed to me first and we marvelled over her how cute she was how like Jem she was. Look at her big toe and her button nose. Then the shock of her death. She had one big eye bloodshot from delivery, swollen tummy and gaping mouth. She was beautiful, serene but silent.
Daddy got his hold. I have know this man 11 years this July and this is the first time I’ve heard him cry, seen him cry and in front on me and 2 midwives. They looked up in shock as did I and the guilt and sorrow just filled me up.
The hospital kindly took photos for us of Elva once we we’re in the Sands Room. They all turned out fuzzy but I keep them I could never delete them. I feel guilty deleting fuzzy photos of Jem and Leif but I reason I can take more. I can’t do that with Elva. She suited her dress perfectly. It was too long but I reasoned again with myself and said at least she’ll have warm feet as she’s no socks. The blanket she’s laid on was all they could find for her it has a huge hole in it and was the reason I started donating items in Elva’s name.
We marvelled at her tiny features her perfectly formed hand on mine despite being miles apart in size. Leif met her on that devastating day, October 15th Wave of Light Day. At 2.30pm I walked out wanting so desperately to run back. I wanted to hold Leif’s hand reconnect as a mother but he only wanted his Daddy. Being asked if I wanted to stop for lunch…. no just no. Arriving home knowing it was the first time I had set foot in that house not pregnant.
The quiet days ahead not wanting to move only wanting to sleep and forget. Instead the next day we had to go back. We had to register her birth and death at the same time. We had to go to a funeral directors and give them paperwork to release her body to them so we could visit. I saw her for the first time outside that place on the Friday and again on the Sunday.
Jem got to meet her with no one agree with. Since when did I care what others thought I did. They had not been in this situation. He thanked me said he was glad he came. I knew since the moment we found out she was gone that it was the right thing to do.