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.

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.

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.

Christmas spirit

So I got through Christmas with my sanity intact. Another milestone.

My Christmas gift was viability as I was 24 weeks on Christmas Eve. It's good to know that if we have to get our baby girl out she has some chance at life from now on. And every week is now a bonus. Of course I'd like a full term baby with a spontaneous labour, but I want a live baby more.

Luca was the elephant in the room at all my family's celebrations. I mentioned him a couple of times but got deflected. No one brought him up and everyone gushed about my pregnancy as if pregnancy is just the same for me now. Still, it's nice to have people excited I guess.

Today we are off to do it all again with Steve's family in Shepparton. And then camping which I am hoping will be nice and relaxing. All the time it's creeping closer to Luca's birthday on January 8. I should be planning presents and a cake; anticipating a joyful celebration as our baby Luca turns one. Instead there's just a heavy sense of dread. And loss. And without.

I was having a cry looking through Luca's photos last night. It's a confusing thought to realise that we wouldn't be expecting a baby girl now if he had lived. As much as I want him here, I couldn't wish her away.

Eliana has been a delight the whole Christmas season. She has adored the local carols by candlelight, visiting Santa in the city square, doing her advent calendar, going to look at Christmas light displays, and presents of course. One of the pieces of advice I read on coping with Christmas was to remember that happiness can exist alongside sadness. Eliana has helped me with that, with her enthusiasm and joy over the celebrations.

Girly bits

We had the 20 week ultrasound and we're having a baby girl. It was very emotional finding out. Steve and I both cried. Later as we had a debrief in the coffee shop I said to Steve 'A girl. That's good isn't it?'. He got teary and said 'There's not going to be a boy'. It broke my heart. I was hoping for a boy too, as I don't want to have taken away Steve's only boy. On the other hand it makes Luca all that more special. Our son. Our only son. I think we're both grieving for him all over again. Not that I stopped, but it's fresher again.

I told Steve that when we found out Luca was a boy I was disappointed because I wanted a girl - it took me a couple of months at least to start looking forward to our son. Whether Steve's grieving Luca or the loss of a boy in our family, he needs permission to grieve.

It's hard because it seems that you are not meant to talk about having a preference. Even my SIDS and Kids counsellor said 'well, as long as it's healthy'. Ah yes, I already realise that's what I'm supposed to say. And I know we'll adore our baby girl. But I need to be able to talk to someone about losing Steve's only boy. My only boy. Our only boy.

I went op shopping and bought some baby girl clothes. It did help, just as buying baby boy clothes helped when I found we were having a boy last time. I do have thoughts of 'will I ever need these?' but I'm trying to hope.

In other news, I started itching a couple of weeks ago. I was beside myself. Last time I got the cholestasis at 29 weeks and our son died. Here I was at 19 weeks itching. The weather cooled down but the itch stayed. It spread. No rashes or anything - seemed like cholestasis to me. I asked for prayers at church and it went away a couple of days later. I'm so relieved. Still feel like a time bomb waiting for it to start again though.

Secret garden meeting October

This month's meeting (well, last month's now... I'm a bit slow) is about where we are at in our grief.

Where are you at in your grief. Has it been years or just weeks since you lost your baby. How are you feeling. How do you hope you will feel in the future. Have you found any peace at all?

It's been 10 months since I let my baby boy slip away from us when I was 35 weeks pregnant. I don't really know where I am. I have mostly good days. I'm a happy person. But I still look back; still feel terribly guilty about letting Luca die; and I really really miss him.

My friend was throwing her smiling baby up in the air last night and said to me 'Isn't six months just the best age?'. And I don't know if I even answered. That sums it up really. I should have a baby and I don't. I should be able to answer that question.

The other babies born around the same time as Luca are starting to have their first birthdays. They are adorable. Full of life. Their mums have expressions of joy and pride on their faces when they play with them. Nurturing, caring. I have a rather unattractive urn with some ashes in it. There is almost no part of my life that is not tinged with sadness. Steve and I went away on the weekend for our 6 year wedding anniversary. We had a great weekend but some of the only photos I have of me during Luca's pregnancy from our weekend away last year. I couldn't help but remember that a year ago we were looking forward to welcoming our little boy into our family.

Hope for the future? I'm 17 weeks pregnant so I do have a lot of hope pinned on this baby. Depends which day you ask me. A little three year old friend asked me yesterday if this baby will die too. And the best I could manage was 'I hope not'. Because that's all there is really. I had a maternal condition with Luca that I also had with our first and will probably get again. And even without that, the certainty of a live baby is lost forever to me now. And the future will never be completely right - I will always have one child missing and will always have the burden of knowing that I failed him and our family.

I don't think I've found peace. I think I've found acceptance. Sort of. But not peace. I hope that in the future I can let go of some of the guilt I feel. I hope I don't have to continually regret things I did and didn't do during Luca's pregnancy. I try to remind myself that there is no other evidence that I'm a bad mum. That I would have loved him more and more; that I love my daughter and am a good mother to her. I hope I don't always feel like a failure.

Consternation

I'm struggling emotionally. People keep saying 'you look great'. Which is lovely of course. Wish I felt great though. Physically I'm good - I've got my energy back. Although, my shoulders are hopelessly tight and my back aches a bit - could be stress, could be sitting at my computer all week.

I've had this week off work to write up my masters thesis. It's going pretty well. I just can't wait to hand it in. I'm hoping having more spare time on my hands will help me deal with my anxiety. And we're going away next weekend with some friends and the weekend after just Steve and I for our 6 year anniversary. It's lovely to have that to look forward to.

I've had a couple of dreams about my baby dying. They were awful obviously. The first time I got up as it was morning. It was a work day but I just sat on the couch rocking back and forth. Of course I eventually got going but it was really hard to pull myself together again.

I've had so little time to deal with my grief over Luca lately. Every now and then it creeps up on me and I think it's also sitting in the background, not as resolved as it was when I was working on it more. I'm looking forward to getting back to his scrapbook. His garden is lovely at the moment. The rose bushes are starting to flower - we have a just joey and it has had the most enormous flowers on it. And there are lots of other flowers bobbing around in the breeze, attracting bees and butterflies.

Steve is away this weekend for a boys weekend, and from Monday to Wednesday for work. I'm worried a bit. I need to know someone is here looking after me. It's not like he's constantly doing things for me or anything, but I know that he's here if I lose it.

I got my first one year old birthday invitation for one of the same crop of babies as Luca the other day. Going is completely out of the question. I think it will be a long time before I can attend their birthdays, these babies whose mummies were pregnant with me. It's still hard to be around them at all. I make myself do it because I don't want to miss out on my friends and their families, but it's still hard. The constant reminder. They are all starting to crawl and pull themselves up on furniture now. Would Luca be doing that? Would he be like his big sister - walking late but one day getting up and walking for the first time steady and confident. Or would he be a typical boy - crawling and walking early and into everything? I will never know because he's my missing child.