The Fourth Trimester

So there it was, the “fourth trimester”.

I had read so much about the first three months of parenthood and watched so many friends battle the highs and lows of the most magical and yet desperately exhausting time. I was so ready for the challenge.

Instead we have been tested in ways I didn’t even know were possible and we are doing ok.

I have emerged from a grief that felt claustrophobic, smothering me like I was trapped in a wet sheet that covered every inch of my body. At times, as I sobbed, I was pulling at my skin desperately trying to release myself and unable to imagine an end to its dominance. Now I have moments of deep reflection, overwhelming sadness and desire for a life that should have been but the suffocating consistency has abated and I am able to breathe. I suspect that will always be the case.

We both worried about sleepless nights with the prospect of a baby and then without. We feared the inability to sleep but our emotional exhaustion took over and we did. I worried in the early weeks that the painkillers were helping and that not taking them would result in hours of waking night terrors but I stopped them and still slept.

We both dreamt, I woke one night so sure that Ottilie was in her crib next to me. I had to remember all over again. I dream often of being chased, pursued by something or someone. It is reminiscent of a recurring nightmare I had as a child so again, I think that will stay with me for some time.

We have been hugged, nourished and gifted the most thoughtful things. We knew our family and friends are wonderful people but I will never be able to articulate our gratitude for their ability to love and give us space in equal measure. It has been the salve to our sores, the crutch to stop us from falling and the cushion to soften the blow when we do. I have learnt so much about them, myself and the importance of human connections in these last few weeks, if it is ok with them all I’d like to keep them too.

We often hear the term heartbroken but I wonder how many people really know how that feels. I know I didn’t until now. It is a pain that morphs from ache to heaviness to a sharp stabbing in your chest and back again. It takes your breath away, it starves you of focus and if you let it the ability to step forward. In the beginning I felt like my heart was smashed into millions of tiny pieces and I was scrabbling around in the dark desperately trying to put them back together. I think now, 12 weeks on, I have managed to pick some of them up. I’ll never find them all but we are getting there.

We are heartbroken.
We are ok.
We miss her, we always will.
We are taking steps forward #withoutottilie

According to Tommy’s 9 babies are stillborn in the UK every day. That means that since we had Ottilie 756 other families are dealing with their own losses. I hope writing our experiences down and by you reading and sharing them we can help get people talking about #babyloss.