In honour of many things, not least some births and my period, which signifies the end of all hope of another baby before Freddie’s first birthday, I have typed up his birth story. Be gentle with it.
by
In honour of many things, not least some births and my period, which signifies the end of all hope of another baby before Freddie’s first birthday, I have typed up his birth story. Be gentle with it.
(((hugs))) You write so beautifully. What a very moving description, and what an amazing birth. It probably doesn’t help to say that you can’t know ever what ‘might have been’… but had you opted for the c-section, and things had gone wrong, I’m sure it would have been even harder to deal with 🙁 I wish there was something constructive I could say or do… hoping and praying that time will, slowly, begin to heal in a positive way and thankful that you do have the memory of such a peaceful, loving arrival in the world for Freddie. (((more hugs)))
Be gentle with yourself… sending you hugs
San xx
((((hugs))))
Rachel
That was so beautifully written Merry, and it bought tears to my eyes. An amazing, lovely perfect birth for a beautiful boy. xxxx
hugs Merry.
Beautiful birth. Simple, sweet and near perfect. So sorry Freddie is not here with you.
Beautiful, beautiful words about a very beautiful little boy. Your words took me right back to Emma’s labour and birth – there is such a lot of your story that is so very similar to my experience too – and it is heartbreaking and unfair and wrong that we don’t have our beautiful babies with us. They should be.
Thanks for sharing your birth story Merry.
Freddies story has touched me deeply. I am sorry for your deep pain.
Oh Merry. You’ve made me laugh and cry all at once. I did love your muddled thought that Freddie would be born on the wrong blog! And I’m afraid that I’m not the kind of girl who would choose to eat a banana over a bacon sandwich.
I’m so sorry that such a beautiful birth did not have the ending that you and your family would have wished for. There is such a strong sense of peace in your description of birthing your little boy. Freddy was such a handsome baby and it is so difficult to believe that he could be born somehow unready for this life.
I know how hard it is to put those ‘what ifs’ aside but you made every choice you did with love, every action that you took was taken with love. Nobody could have done anything more than that.
And I know I’ve said this before but I am so very sorry. x
Debbie – I have been thinking of you (and thanking you) lots. I’ve been trying to find the words for an email and failing miserably.
Catherine – in labour; no, banana and toast was all I could manage!
I can’t believe you turned down the bacon sandwich! 🙂
Thank you for sharing his birth story. Hugs
Please Merry, don’t concern youself. It’s been an honour to follow yours and Freddieds journey.
So sorry about the typo.
Hello. I haven’t commented for a while, for fear of saying the wrong thing, but I have been reading and thinking of you all. Thank you for sharing Freddie’s birth story. Like Catherine, you made me laugh and cry. I’m sorry that such a peaceful birth did not end the way it should have. I saw a rainbow today and thought of you and Freddie x
i just echoing everyone else – wish i could add more. thankyou for sharing. xx
I haven’t commented at all before now, mainly because I don’t know the right thing to say. I’m not sure there is one.
Thank you for sharing his birth story. It was a beautiful birth. I am so sorry it ended with so much pain. xx
It would be impossible to read about Freddie without being deeply touched. I laid some meadow flowers for him and in honor of what you are living through on top of a beautiful hill we visit. The hill looks out over the sea and is very peaceful. Your writing about Freddie has honored him and means that a wide community is grieving with you. In some small way people who read you (or know you in day to day life) want to take a piece of the grief for you and grieve with you to somehow ease your passage through this difficult time.
Thank ou all for your comments. I appreciate them.
Dear Merry, oh I am glad you have written his birth story, and shared it with us. What a tender kindness, I think this sort of sharing helps us all, no matter our own personal experiences and losses. I so wish I had written my wee daughter’s birth story back then, all those years ago. It took me over twenty — imagine. Thank you for sharing. Be well and take care. {hugs}
(oh, my: deepest apologies for the typo in my previous comment’s website field. Mortifying. In my defense, I am typing from my phone, post-brain surgery for Timor removal –so there is that!).
It is a funny typo 🙂 And so glad you’ve made it out of surgery okay 🙂
Such a beautiful story and so brave to write it. You do write so very well. I am so pleased for you that you uttered those beautiful words whilst still in the pool ~ words to hang on to, and despite the sad and painful loss of your dear, sweet boy, HE gave you the birth you’d always longed for you. He told you you could do it. Everything was as it should have been and there is no fault or blame. In your shoes I would have made exactly the same choices. As I carry my 8th there are risks, but I will choose as I always have done and trust my instincts, just as you did, to guide me. Your instincts were true to you, they prepared you (as well as anyone can ever prepare for such a tragedy). I look at the picture at the end of the story and my heart wells up with love for you and your boy, for your family, for Max and the girls ~ I don’t want this to be the end of Freddie’s story and do you know…when at last the pain and grief begin to subside…I don’t think it will be. You are such a creative person Merry, I know you will find away to make Freddie’s life meaningful not only to yourselves, but to others whose lives you touch everyday across the globe ~ you have already begun to I know and I believe that the gift of Freddie will grow.
Much Love and so many hugs ~ Cx
It’s a beautiful account of Freddie’s birth Merry. You have a way of capturing moments with words so, so vividly.
(I can somehow see the picture for friends and family only)
xxxx
xxxx