WARNING This is an incredibly raw, personal and honest post. This post deals with topics that might be upsetting to some.
little star, up in
heaven is where
you are, flying
high and twinkling
bright, my guiding
star, my shining
twinkle little star
my perfect angel is
what you are
I found out I was pregnant with my 3rd baby in January 2012. I was very excited and instantly went into planning mode. The nursery, what we needed, what I needed. I’d had 2 successful pregnancies previously and it didn’t occur to me that anything would go wrong with this one.
Fast forward to 17 March 2012 and it all went horribly wrong.
I lost the baby, I suffered a miscarriage.
The days and weeks that followed are a bit of a blur. There was immense grief and guilt. Why had this happened, did I not rest enough, did I eat the wrong things? Maybe I shouldn’t have had that Panadol a few days earlier.
It was a very dark place.
My now ex husband says it was during that time where everything changed. I changed.
Looking back now, yes I did change. Losing the baby changed me, it changed my view of the world, it made me see that terrible things happen and there is nothing that can be done to change or control it and the fact that this huge event in our lives didn’t change him, made me see him differently.
When the miscarriage occurred, he tried to comfort me. I guess he didn’t know how to navigate this any more than I did. He said things like “there was obviously something wrong with the baby” and “it just wasn’t meant to be”. What I needed to hear was “I am hurting too because we lost a child”. I guess it’s different for a man but he never acknowledged the baby.
I went into a deep dark hole, he picked up and carried on as normal. He went to work. How could he do that? How could he just continue like nothing had happened, we lost a baby, how could he not acknowledge that? When I said I wanted to talk to someone (friends or family) about it he said “people don’t talk about these things, you just need to get over it”. Why, why don’t people talk about these things?
A couple of days after it happened he decided we needed a new fridge. I’m not sure if this was his way of dealing with things but I remember being dragged around many whitegood stores in agony both physically and emotionally. We’d lost a baby and all he could think about was a fridge.
I wanted to lay in bed, with him to comfort me, telling me that it was OK, that we would be OK, that I would be OK, that he was hurting too. But instead I got “get on with life, there’s nothing we can do about it”
I eventually sought help from a support group. They were fantastic. They gave me a teddy bear which another family, who had lost a baby had donated, kind of like a pay it forward. This teddy sits amongst the birth certificates of my other children.
They said I should name the baby. I had a feeling this baby was a girl, so I named her Madeline Grace.
To me the baby we lost, 10 and a half weeks into the pregnancy was real. She was my child and I am forever walking around with a piece of our family missing.
Sometimes when I’m outside with the kids, I see a butterfly and I think of my Madeline, it’s like she’s there with us, fluttering around me, her Mumma and fluttering around her 4 brothers.
Madeline would now be 4 years old, we’d be getting ready to send her off to Kindy next year. I often wonder how different things would’ve been if she stayed.
One day sweet Maddie, one day we will meet, until then please keep sending us little signs that you are near xx
Kirsty is the founder of That Noise Is Mine.
An established blogger, writer and business owner raising 4 children independently. Kirsty is determined to succeed in this new life forced upon her.