So it’s been six months since my last blog, and three years ago today since I lost Max. I really wish I was writing this blog to say “I am fixed!”. I wish I could say that I haven’t spent the last two weeks dreading this day, that I don’t shudder every time I hear the name Max, that I don’t think about how I should have a two and a half year old, that I don’t look at the age gap between Dylan and Isaac and wishing it was smaller, and that I no longer dread my birthday – knowing that the day after is the anniversary of Max’s death. Sadly, if I did say any of those things I would be lying. I just want to know when this will get easier, if anyone else has been through this, as the years pass, does the anniversary sometimes slip pass without you even thinking about it???
So it’s been six months since my last blog, and three years ago today since I lost Max. I really wish I was writing this blog to say I am fixed! I wish I could say that I haven’t spent the last two weeks dreading this day, that I don’t shudder every time I hear the name Max, that I don’t think about how I should have a two and a half year old, that I don’t look at the age gap between Dylan and Isaac and wishing it was smaller, and that I no longer dread my birthday – knowing that the day after is the anniversary of Max’s death, I don’t look at the forget-me-nots that appear at this time of year and fight back the tears. Sadly, if I did say any of those things I would be lying. I just want to know when this will get easier, if anyone else has been through this, as the years pass, does the anniversary sometimes slip pass without you even thinking about it?
Recently I decided to go through my phone and delete some of the 20,000 plus photos on there. They start in Summer 2015, pre kids, fun girls holidays, nights out, work trips etc – all of which seem a lifetime ago now. Then move to pregnancy photos of me with Dylan in my tummy from Autumn 2016, then hundreds of photos of Dylan’s first year in 2017, all of which were lovely to look through and remember so many happy times.
Then 2018 comes, the year I was dreading looking through. All start off ok, a picture from my birthday reminds me that I spent five nights in hospital bleeding, and that I begged the hospital staff to let me go home for the night so I could go to Pizza Express with Matt and Dylan (as I was due to be back in two days later for a scan). Happy and smiling at the camera, probably thinking I had been bleeding for a week and nothing happened, so surely I was ok, thinking hospital wouldn’t have let me go if it was that bad. Now, having read hospital notes, I know it was classed as a “threatened miscarriage”, and although the hospital didn’t say it, they may well have thought I was going home to lose the baby.
Then suddenly BAM a photo of the Forget Me Not baby loss suite at the Royal Surrey Coutny Hospital, where I gave birth to Max on the 16th April. I am not sure why I took the photo, or why I kept it, but just wanted to always be able to picture the room in which I held him in the little woolen woven basket.
I look through the photos of the next two weeks, and now I know I went back to normal lift too soon. We wanted to keep things normal for Dylan – had family days out (we took him to the Zoo, the beach etc), went back to work, visited friends etc. I know look at those photos knowing that the smile in them was fake, I wasn’t healed mentally or emotionally, even if physically the bleeding had stopped. I kept going through the photos of that time, I guess in some ways a self inflicted torture. I certainly shouldn’t have done this so close to the anniversary, but in some ways I wanted to make myself certain that we never let it effect Dylan. I’ve decided to give myself a break from doing it though for the next few weeks, as I know all too soon I will hit the photos from around September 2018, and know that’s when my heart broke for the second time with the loss of Isabella. I feel like there are photos of me pre loss, and post loss, I feel like something changed within me forever, having that level of pain and hurt.
I don’t know if the years passing will make it easier, all I know is that every April 16th, the date Max was born, I will walk to where Max’s ashes are scattered and tell him how loved he would have been, and that he is always in my heart.
In other brighter news, I had a smear test two weeks ago, and got the results this morning, all clear! Although I didn’t think there would be any problems, I always remember my dear friends Riggy’s battle with cervical cancer and know that cancer doesn’t care who it picks – it can get you any time, so you should always be prepared. Riggy was, and she kicked cancers arse!
I hope you are all surviving lockdown, that you are making happy memories with your families, and looking forward to a summer of meeting friends without fear, and possibly being able to hug your parents for the first time in over a year.
I promise more positive blog next time 🙂
Take care everyone.
P.S – I am not saying I am not happy now, I know how truly blessed I am, not only to have my rainbow baby, but to even be able to have had Dylan as well – as so so many women struggle to conceive. Just some days are easier than others.
Muddled Mummy 