Sunday, January 24, 2010

Struggling along

I'm struggling these days. Tired all the time. Dispirited. I'm 28 weeks pregnant now. I was 29 weeks when the itching started with Luca. The beginning of the end. I'm trying to see this as a good thing - I haven't gotten the cholestasis any earlier. My baby girl is still safe. But really I'm anxious. And drowning in the memories. If we make it to 35 weeks, which is when Luca died, I'm going to be a basket case.

I've started having weekly liver function and bile acid tests. I realised after the first two that they weren't going to be reassuring if I didn't know the results. I don't trust the hospital to tell me, after what happened with Luca. So I text messaged my ob to ask. Bile acids were only 2.4 on Wednesday which is ridiculously normal. My baby girl is safe. She's safe. That's what I keep telling myself.

My ob said I could go in for weekly monitoring on the CTG and I said no. Now I'm worried that if something goes wrong I'll regret that decision. There is no benefit to the monitoring but still I worry. Every decision or lack of decision could mean something. I know this too well from Luca's pregnancy. How many times have I gone over every little thing that I did or didn't do that could have made a difference? I never want to do that again.

Most of the time I can tell myself that everything will be ok this time. Our baby will be born alive; will cry; will have her first feed. But deeper down lurk the doubts. It happened once, it can happen again. I never know what to say when people say 'you'll be right this time'. At first I told people that actually the condition I had with Luca recurs and I had it will Eliana and I'll probably get it again. But I just can't be bothered anymore. Even if it turns out alright this time, if we get our baby out alive, will it ever be alright? We'll never have our son with us. A lifetime of missing stretches ahead of me.

Today Eliana went to a new class at church. The teachers got each child to stand up and tell their name, their brothers and sisters, their parent's names and what they've done on the holidays. My friend who takes the class said that Eliana got up and said her name and then said she has a brother Luca who's dead; her mummy's name is Rebecca, her daddy's name is Steve, and mummy is having a baby girl; and she spent the holidays hanging out with mummy and daddy. I got all teary hearing that she talked about Luca. She should be saying that she has a brother named Luca. Full stop. He should be here. Her little brother.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Luca's birthday

Luca's birthday finally came around. 8 January 2009.

The 8th of January 2010 was, in a way, not as bad as the days before it. After all, by the day he was born the tragedy had already happened. The day of his birth I birthed him, held him. Though it was also the day we said goodbye to him. As 7pm came around I reminded Steve that it was about that time last year that we were walking empty handed out of the hospital.

In the morning we bought coffee and cake in Acland Street and had it in the St Kilda Community Vegie Garden which is a lovely spot. My mum and sister joined us. No one talked about Luca, but neither did they say anything hurtful. Mum gave us a cross stitch she'd done for him. In the afternoon at home Steve brought out Luca's photo album and we sat and looked through it together. He always joins me on the couch when he sees me looking through it but I can't recall him getting it out before, so that was really sweet. That evening we went to a friend's house and they cooked dinner for us, prayed with us, gave us flowers, and were just so supportive.


Since then I've been feeling very tired and flat. And anxious about our little girl. Having all my memories of Luca's last days refreshed reminded me that my body kills babies. Still no itching though, and I've made it to the third trimester. I'm even thinking about making a start on the nursery.

I keep meaning to write a poem for Luca but I can't get past the title. Without.


Luca's memorial garden is flourishing


Sunflowers at the St Kilda Community Garden (Luca means light)


Standing in Luca's garden with our baby girl on board.


Eliana holding the balloon from Luca's funeral which we inflated again.


Wednesday, January 6, 2010

The dreaded week

A year ago on Tuesday I was in the hospital getting blood tests and thinking about going to emergency as Luca hadn't been moving as much. But I didn't. A year ago yesterday I felt Luca move for the last time at about 4pm. As usual I was awake for most of the night itching, and I was worried about him but still didn't do anything. A year ago today we found out he'd died... saw his unbeating heart filling the big screen in the ultrasound room. Back through the antenatal waiting room to fill in the forms for induction the next day. A year ago tomorrow he was born spontaneously at 6:30am. Perfect in every way except he didn't come out soon enough.

So it's been a hard year. A really hard year. And after a year to reflect, I still think he would be here with us if only I had looked after him properly. We would have had his first Christmas, perhaps a party for his 1st birthday, blissfully unaware that our baby could die. After all, doesn't that happen to Other People? Well, now it's happened to me. And people say that good things come from it. But I can't think of anything I wouldn't give up in an instant to have Luca in my arms where he belongs.

Here's a picture of his mulberry tree at my dad's house. A beautiful living memorial, but flourishing and reminding me that he should be flourishing.