Welcome to my blog. I am a mother to three beautiful children. My second child, my sweet daughter Lucy was born into our lives, to live in the world for only a short time. I'm here writing my thoughts, my feelings, my love, my grief, my passion and life with Lucy in my heart.
Friday, October 11, 2013
As a grieving parent. Triggers come in all forms. For me, a trigger that brings out my pain and sadness is remembering the day that we received Lucy's diagnosis. And I wasn't sure if I should write about this or not, I wasn't sure if I was ready to write it all down and share it with you all. But I must. I need to talk about it.
We were planning a homebirth from the beginning. We decided that an ultrasound was not necessary unless we had pregnancy complications. And we did. Beginning at 20 weeks I started developing high blood pressure that kept on rising and rising. We tried everything we could think of to lower it. From diet change, to chiropractor, to bed rest, to anything and everything you can think of. Nothing helped. and at 36 weeks I was measuring very low, about 5 weeks behind. I knew from my own motherly instincts that something was wrong. I'd known this for a my whole pregnancy in fact, but I always blew it off, like I was being worried for nothing. I knew it was time to make sure our baby was developing properly and that she was not at risk because having high BP can really mess things up in pregnancy. My husband and I were worried that possibly I had pre-eclampsia and that our dreams of a homebirth would go out the window. This was our worry at the time. We go into the dimly lit room where the ultrasound tech was getting things ready. I lied down. I pulled up my shirt where my full round belly was peaking out. She starts the scan. I can't really tell what I'm seeing because by know Lucy had grown so big that it was hard to get a clear picture. I could tell by the way the tech fumbled and glanced nervously around the room that something was wrong. She picked up her phone and said that she needed a nurse to come in and take a second look. My ears shot up and I got really scared. I asked "Is there something wrong with our baby?". And the tech said, "I think the doctor needs to explain things to you." At this point I can't hold in my worry and scared emotions. I start panicing. The doctor comes in and sits down in his chair, with tears in his eyes. I look at him and start bawling as he says the words. "I'm so sorry, your baby has a neural tube defect called anencephaly and she is not compatible with life, I'm so sorry to have to tell you this." From this moment on, everything this doctor was saying to me was mute in my head. I was in a daze, my tears couldn't stop, I could not breathe, I felt like my life was ending, everything was in slow motion, a blur. "how could this be?, but how is she living now inside of me? When she is born will she live, at all? how can you say she is incompatible with life when she is living inside of me right now? she won't have the top of her head, how is that even possible?" I must have asked these questions over and over, just not believing what I was hearing. And I know he answered them. I know he wanted to induce me that very day. I had brains enough to say that we needed to go home and talk about it. We went home in a daze, I told my close friend that I was pregnant with at the time and she cried with me. We told our son, we couldn't keep it from him. We told him that our baby was very sick and would not live for very long after birth, that is if she did live at all. It was the hardest thing to say, to tell your dear child, the child who wanted this baby so badly that she was going to be ripped from his arms. This is my emotional trigger, this is what I can't talk about or discuss without crying my eyes out. That day feels like the day the world ended for me and for our family. Life has changed so much, I love our Lucy and am so grateful that she lived and is part of our lives. But now that she is gone I am also so full of a magnatude of pain, grief and sadness.
This picture was taken 8 days after finding out Lucys diagnosis. Luke painted my belly with a galent sunflower, because we had by now chosen Lucy's beautiful name. And he took the photo of me as well.
My post inspired by Carlymarie's 'Capture your grief project' 2013