It's been the craziest week of our lives in many ways; most of it seems so surreal. Tonight, at 11.25pm it will be exactly one week since we became parents. And that's exactly how we see ourselves. Our baby may have passed away but we are still very much Mum & Dad to little Hallie and we are as proud of her as any new parent is of their new baby. We spent this morning at the Civic Centre in Lisburn registering Hallie's birth & her death. It was difficult, of course, but being able to register her birth and receive a certificate was a good feeling. It's nice to have a document acknowledging her little life. We paid for the full version so that we can keep it in her memory box. We see her death certificate as just an unfortunate formality.
Our recovery began the second the Doctor told us Hallie's heart had stopped. For whatever reason, for our entire stay in hospital, I took on the role of Mrs Brave Face. I don't think I cried or had a wobble at all while I was there (apart from saying goodbye of course) and I think it was because Hallie never left my side the whole time. As long as she was there, I felt like everything was manageable. She stayed in a little Moses basket next to my bed and it was honestly just like she was sleeping. I fell asleep most nights clutching her little hand and it was incredibly comforting. Michael struggled a little more than I did at the hospital. We've noticed this pattern we've fallen into - when I am upset, Michael is strong. And when Michael is upset, I am strong. We seem to take it in turns to look after one another.
Life at home has been quiet. Too quiet. From the moment we arrived home, we disappeared up into our bedroom and set up camp there. I must mention here that my Sister had washed & dried our bed sheets for us and made our bed up just like a hotel bed - ironed sheets and everything! It was the perfect thing to come home to - we climbed straight in and didn't leave for a couple of days. We surrounded ourselves with all of Hallie's things; her blankets, her little teddies...and just spent a few days coming to terms with missing her. We had a few deliveries - flowers from work and a giant care package from an amazing friend - but apart from that our little bubble wasn't burst those first few days and I think that was important. We needed our family time.
As well as mental recovery, I've had a lot to deal with physically too. I've been in a lot of pain. Recovery from a Cesarean Section is notoriously difficult - my respect and admiration goes to all the new Mums who have to deal with section recovery and a new born baby too! I'm on a diet of various painkillers and anti-blood clotting injections at the moment - Dr Michael Archer has taken on the injecting duties as I haven't been able to do it myself. I'm having a bit of a love/hate relationship with my scar right now. It's very painful and it affects my ability to freely move around or wear anything that isn't pyjamas. I'm not allowed to drive or return to work for 6 weeks and I also have to sleep on my back like Dracula, however, it's a welcomed physical reminder of my baby. Well, it's usually a welcomed reminder but occasionally it can upset me. Sometimes, in my darkest moments, it makes me feel like Hallie was just ripped from me. It all happened so fast with so little time to consider what was happening and now I'm left with this permanent, painful reminder that she is no longer part of me. Dealing with this pain and having nothing to show for it is hard.
The hardest part of recovery is getting used to the fact that I am not pregnant anymore. My bump is disappearing day by day and that's been hard to deal with - I loved my bump and everything about carrying Hallie. I miss talking to her and I miss that feeling of never being alone. The very first moment that it hit me was when I took my first shower at home. Shower time was when I had my daily bonding time with Hallie; it was when I really got to know my bump. I had a shower just before we made the decision to go to the hospital last Monday in a last ditch attempt to calm my contractions. I stood with my back under the running hot water and begged Hallie not to leave me. I don't know why I ever thought I could tell her what to do - her fierce, independent little spirit was ever going to listen! That first shower when we got home was incredibly sad & the first time that I felt horribly alone and without my girl. I miss feeling her little kicks. Hallie used to wake me up every morning dancing on my bladder and making me rush to the bathroom at 5am without fail. The first morning I slept through without having woken at 5am was emotional.
Having empty arms is the hardest part of all. We miss Hallie so, so much and it's just so unfair that we didn't get to take her home and do all the new parent stuff that everyone else gets to do. We are surrounded by friends who have new babies or are pregnant and it's hard to save face around them but we know that we'll get there eventually; this just wasn't our time. When the Doctor told us that we have to wait 6 months before trying again it was like a punch in the stomach, but maybe it's the time we need to grieve Hallie properly before attempting to move on. There's a lot of complicated emotions involved when dealing with the loss of a baby; we have been robbed of all of the plans we made as a family. We were so close to getting everything that we ever wanted and it was ripped out from underneath us and it's been a bitter pill to swallow.
As well as dealing with our own emotions, we have to deal with the emotions of others too. Our own parents and siblings are devastated. Completely devastated. And that's been hard to cope with - we feel tremendous guilt every day. As well as guilt, there's a certain amount of embarrassment too. When I think back to us happily announcing our pregnancy without a care in the world and then having to retract those announcements when we found out about her illness then having to announce her birth and death...it's hard not to feel, well... stupid. Knowing people are pitying you isn't a nice feeling. Knowing that people don't know what to say to you isn't fun either. It makes the whole thing much easier to manage if people are just normal with us, or throw us a text to see how we are instead of keeping their distance because they think it's too awkward to talk to us. I know it isn't easy and these are just normal feelings in situations like these so I try not to dwell on them too much.
I am now on Maternity Leave from work - thanks to Hallie for holding on and being born alive so I qualify. Michael's work just happens to be on Factory Shutdown for 3 weeks, plus his Paternity Leave so he'll be off for a few weeks too, perfect timing really. Sometimes I think that Hallie knew exactly what she was doing - the little rascal. We plan to make use of the time off; make some plans to work on the house, get a holiday or a few weekends away fitted in or even get a puppy towards the end. We have been discussing getting a puppy to fill the gap so now is as good a time as any to introduce a new pet while we have so much time on our hands. We crave a bit of chaos in our house as it's too quiet right now. We'd love a little buddy to look after who will give us a bit of love in return and give us a reason to smile and laugh again. Puppies are healing, or so I'm told.
There will be good days and bad days. Every day this week has been different. Some days we just want to hide away and cry. Other days we have ventured out or had visitors round. It's been a rollercoaster but I do think we are handling it quite well. Everyone keeps describing us as "brave" - we are battling with this brave word in all honestly. What does it mean to be brave when you've lost your baby? Does it mean that people think we are acting differently to how they expect us to? That because we aren't breaking down in tears in front of everyone that we aren't dealing with it as we should? I think for Michael and I it's been a case of waiting until we're in our own safe space at home to really open ourselves up to our grief.
But on the other hand, we are still beyond grateful for those 2+ hours we had with Hallie. We have an overwhelming sense of peace around her birth and her death in that we got time with her that we never thought we would have. That in itself keeps us going. We have hundreds of beautiful photographs and videos of our time spent with Hallie - we are obsessed with her - she was absolutely beautiful and our overriding emotion towards her is pride. We are so, so proud of our girl and we were blessed to have met her and can't believe our luck in all honesty. That seems like a strange thing to say, but we lost a baby before that we never got to know anything about. We never learnt whether they were a boy or a girl. We never got to name them. So if we had to lose Hallie too, it meant everything that we got to name her and meet her alive. To have a legal document that says Hallie Was Here. She lived. In this situation, we couldn't have asked for anything more.
There is no wrong or right way to recover from a loss like this. We are just taking it one day at a time and seeing what each day brings. We welcome both sadness and happiness at this stage, just riding the emotions until we get to a point where it doesn't hurt so much. If such a point exists. I hope it does. But for now, we're going to have a quiet night in, hold each other close and light a candle at 11.25pm tonight to mark a week since our baby girl was put into our arms. A week since our lives changed irrevocably. One week survived without her and the rest of our lives to follow.
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