Inevitably, a few peoples emotions took a tumble here yesterday. Maddy has gone very quiet and Amelie came downstairs saying she just felt sad and didn’t know why. Max is deeply loved up on breathing baby son but more bowled over than I’ve ever known him and I think we’re all aware of just how much that means things are big. And I, having last through hospital and surgery and all the fear of the last day of pregnancy and the first couple of days of of Ben’s life (which had a bit of a story attached) and separation from the girls, came down with a bump last night.
Ben is beautiful but it took us all a few days to acknowledge that he doesn’t actually stop Freddie being dead. None of that is gone way, Freddie should and could be here, a bundle of 22 month old gorgeousness and he isn’t. Ben should have a big brother to poke at him and he just doesn’t. Last night that all suddenly seemed much too wrong especially when I suddenly caught a sleeping angle of Ben’s face that was the image of a photo of Freddie on one of his deepest sleeping days. Sleeping babies have horrified me for nearly 2 years; just before I had Ben I said “I need to know he can open his eyes and breathe, nothing else matters” and of course he came out with his tiny, not ready eyes stuck together with vernix and needing to be reminded about breathing. An early baby is an exercise in watching a healthy baby sleep and watching babies sleep is not entirely something I find easy to do. Getting thought pregnancy was such a minefield that I didn’t actually give any thought to afterwards; it hadn’t occurred to me I would transfer paranoia to him just keeping living once he was here. And I keep nearly calling him Freddie too, which is hard, though I am not the only one apparently. Max says he does it too. Oh that little boy left himself on our heart so very hard :/ I wish I could’ve had both of them here. Two boys would have been brilliant.
Ben shifted most of his baby spots yesterday, met my lovely midwife Wendy and managed to lose less than 10% of his birthweight, if only just less. Half way through the day he finally connected hungry with waking up and feeding and he’s been more alert and feeding well since. Max and I are trying to work out if he’s actually been physically on his own for more than 10 minutes since getting home but I don’t think he has. He’s always in someone’s arms 🙂 not that he actually seems to mind his own company particularly. He isn’t a fussy baby, as yet anyway.
Yesterday had plenty of visitors and today has some too but we both feel the girls need to otherwise get some normal back as they are drifting and dwelling a bit, so Max is going to get them a bit busier. I need to sleep as I think snatches of sleep are not sustaining my emotional resilience as well as it could be. Besides I need to recover so I can get on and start back to running 🙂 I have race for life to do on July 10th. I’m encouraged to see I have less than a stone to lose to be back at my lightest, which is good given I can still see I’m swollen up in places I think about 7lbs of what’s left is baby remnants, so I reckon that’s good.
I’ve come up with the perfect way to watch him grow. We can take pictures of him measured against blanket squares 😆
And this was my favourite thing yesterday. Being used enough to being born to stretch out till his toes pointed out the end of the blanket.
And an evening snuggling on the sofa, just three of us, getting used to how thing are now and will be.
All of that makes sense.
He is beautiful but yes, there are still many many reminders of dear Freddie.
The sadness won’t ever go…..but you not have gorgeous Benedict and busy family life – make sure you do rest.
My friend lost a baby at birth and years later went to a medium and asked why….. the lost baby replied it was to make her husband a more compassionate and understanding doctor….and that she could deal with the sadness if she knew the baby was safe and she was. Maybe mumbo jumbo but helped my friend a lot. Gave me a lot of food for thought after she shared it with me….
Merry, I can empathise so much with what you have written in those first two paragraphs. These rainbow babies don’t suddenly make everything ok but they certainly make life a little bit better.
I’m loving that photo of the two of you fast asleep 😀
Lovely pics – particularly of those big sisters holding their baby brother. Magic 🙂 I hope the bump is a small one and you all soon adjust to the new dynamic of your expanded family – and the redrawn, reemphasised space occupied by Freddie. x
Such a dear line up of photos.
Yes, a new baby is healing and glorious and wonderful and such a gift, but of course it isn’t going to make you miss Freddie any less. It’s hard. I love my Calli so dearly but do think of her twin (who died at twenty weeks gestation) so often and wonder about the life not lived, by the rest of us, due to his absence. And of course, my dear Stephanie, my firstborn, who died as a newborn and oh! what would my life have been like had she lived? Her loss changed **everything** in such deeply shocking and profound ways.
We do go forward of course, somehow the years pass, we live the life we’re given, missing the little one’s not walking with us.
I am so happy you all have Ben. What bliss!
Oh yes Merry, our sweet rainbows help so much, such a focus for our love, but such a reminder of what should be.
The other day on the bus Ernest made friends with a little girl on the seat in front, she was the age Florence should be, and they played peek a boo and laughed, and waved goodbye as she got off the bus, and I got home and sobbed my heart out for all that he’s missing too.
I totally get the sleeping baby thing too, I’ve taken a long long time to feel less panicky about Ernest, but small babies terrify me these days, they just seem so very fragile after losing Florence.
I’m loving all the photos, keep em coming, and keep resting and babymooning with that beautiful boy. x
I keep trying to type stuff but it’s all rubbish. Just sending virtual hugs & liking knitlass’s description of ‘the redrawn, reemphasised space occupied by Freddie.’ … it’s what I would have said if I could make my words work for me this evening x
Definitely echoing the rest thing, you’ve all been through so much.
Measuring by blanket squares so sweet!
Hugs to you
San x
Yes, those sleepy, slightly jaundiced, 37 weekers are a new test. For the first week both me and hubby would constantly stop by C.S.’s bassinet to make sure she was still breathing. Three weeks out, we are slightly less worried, but she also moves around more in her sleep to. I hope there aren’t any more bumps for a while and thinking of Freddie today.
I can so relate, especially to sleeping babies. Only just starting to relax a bit about Juliet now, and she’s nearly six months.
These photos just fill my heart up though. I really am very happy for you, Merry.
All of you. And I continue to miss Freddie.
xo
Crying too much to write anything sensible but just sending love and hugs xx Beautiful photos, love the blanket measuring!
Yes. It’s another harsh reality of babyloss – that having a beautiful, brilliant,breathing baby brings new and complex emotions … so, SO much joy but a new version of grief to integrate too. We lose so much when we lose our babies and we lose some of the simple ease of mothering our subsequent children too, which always seemed so unfair. I still see Emma most in Toby when he is sleeping – it is both a comfort and a sadness.
Wishing you sleep and Ben wakeful hungriness and your family gentle times in this period of readjustment.
Oh, I wish Freddie was there to poke him. Given all that you’ve been through, there were some good reasons why you might hit a bump or two at this point – but knowing that doesn’t neccessarily make it any easier. It does sound like you are handling it well though – acknowledging the sadness as well as the elation, and giving one another lots of support. I feel like having lost a baby intensifies everything in this process – making the highs higher as well as the bumps bumpier. Sending lots of love and hoping the next few days ease up a little on you xxxx h