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by Anika Drysdaleheart pours-the real talk

HEART POURS - the real talks ANIKA DRYSDALE

She stiffened at the thought of them. Nobody was going to see her cry that day - not one person. She had cried a bucket load of tears since that day. A bucket loads? Why not a swimming pool full, or even an ocean? She didn’t know how many but they had left her feeling totally dry and shrivelled up inside.

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Here she was, having just discovered there was no reason. Was it only 4 weeks since her world turned upside down? It felt much longer. How could things like this happen now anyway? Where was the justice in it all?

Stillborn. The word had burned into her now. Something she could never escape. Why had it happened? Just why? It was an old-fashioned word - surely not something that happened today? If it still happened today, surely it was in the third world countries, or whatever they were labelled nowadays. In the developed world and in this age, she had never seen it coming. Modern science should have stopped this from happening nowadays. What had caused this to occur? She had followed all the advice given from the medical profession, not thinking her baby would die. But this was now her reality that she could not escape.

Had she known something was wrong? Maybe. Were the niggles she felt and had tried to hide away from the signs, should she have gone to the doctor? As a first-time mother, she didn’t want to be the worrywart that went to the doctor over nothing. She wasn’t going to trouble them over every slight twinge of pain or cramping feelings during the pregnancy. Even when her feet were swollen she didn’t go see them, knowing other pregnant ladies had swollen feet and hands. It was normal for goodness sake! Yet here she was, instead of planning a birth and christening she had found herself burying her baby. She remembered what the doctors just said - nothing could have saved her daughter, even if she had arrived at the hospital hours before.

They had all been kind and done their best to make it as easy as possible but there was no escape, no panic button she could press to be taken back and have it all go away: her daughter was dead. She had to give birth to a dead baby, no matter what. Her daughter had died in the womb - possibly hours before she went to the hospital. She had carried something dead in her body without realising. Did this really happen to 1 in 4 pregnancies in the world?

She hadn’t known if she would have the strength to hold her daughter but discovered an overwhelming outpouring of love the moment her daughter was born. She couldn’t wait to hold her and was glad in a bittersweet way that she had managed to. It had been really odd because she thought all she would think was that she was holding a dead object in her arms, but no, this was her daughter. Her beloved child that was now in heaven - had never made it into this world.

It’s funny how the small things that seem so important after all. The generous size of the hands and feet - maybe she would have grown into them. Puppies grow into big paws. Was that what children do? Or would they have been a point of comment forever? And to not see or know the colour of her eyes. Strange that was so unsettling. Would she have had the same colour eyes as her Mum or Dad? The eye sockets were closed so no chance of seeing. And her hair! It was such small wisps that they couldn’t even cut a lock off for her to keep. And she wasn’t allowed to bath her as they needed as much as they could possibly get for the post mortem. Things that would remain the same forever. Questions that would never have answers. Surely the modern medical profession should be able to provide a reason if not an answer? But they hadn’t. A different ending to a life that had only ever known the safety of her mother’s womb. What was it? A life cut short maybe. So short it had known nothing of the outside world. No, that wasn’t quite true. The baby used to wiggle if she splashed warm water onto her while they were in the bath. And definitely liked music. If she was getting agitated in the womb you could play any music to her except Brahms Lullaby and she would then lie completely still. Strange she hadn’t liked the one piece of music that was generally on children’s calming toys. Maybe she was just different. Now it would never be known. You shouldn’t have to bury a baby rather than surviving a life without them.

But what to do now with this aching void within? What was she going to do now? She had been planning for a baby and now there was nothing. Her life was going to be empty and meaningless. The memories weren’t enough to fill that gap. Nothing would be - not even another baby. It was this child, this daughter she wanted. Not another one or even a different one. Why did people not get that?

She knew the memory would last forever - what it felt to hold her daughter in her arms. Other people had years of a child with them - at least 16. She hadn’t even had a full year. No way she could make memories with her baby. Well, she had some at least from the time she was pregnant to when she had her daughter at the hospital. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted what it seemed like everybody else had. No matter what anybody said this was her daughter, her first baby. Yes, that baby was now in a graveyard but would always be a baby. She would never grow up, never experience life.

This just was not fair! Why had it happened to them? Couldn’t it have been someone else? Anyone else? What about those who didn’t look after themselves in pregnancy, that drank and smoked? The consultant had said that it can happen to anyone at any time. What if it happened again? Would she cope? There was no guarantee that she would keep another. But there was no guarantee she would lose another either. How did people go on after this had happened to them? Life would never be the same again.

Continuing life didn’t seem possible. All she wanted to do was hide away from the outside world. But she would have to face it again in the end. How did you do that? How could you look at other women happy with their babies while yours was in a graveyard? What was she

going to do when her friend had her first baby? Would she cope? Maybe if they came to her house with the baby first - but that was where she would have had her child. Was that the right thing to do? She couldn’t even look at families right now in the outside world. Her friend had gone shopping for her to get the things she needed. She couldn’t face life in the outside world right now.

Why did nobody tell you this? The size of the coffin for her baby was so small. In fact, the funeral director had put it between her and her husband on the way to the graveyard.

“As she stood there, she vowed to herself that she would make this baby proud. Somehow, someway, she was going to do something with her life that made a difference to others. She didn’t know what it was or how she would go about finding it, she would find it eventually. She thought of her daughter as she made that promise, knowing it was a contract she could never break.”

Maybe she would help someone in some way. Her baby had gone but she had to live on and do something with her life. Now that her child was in heaven, her life (short though it was) needed to have meaning and as the mother, she was the only one that could provide it. What meaning she could give to that small life she literally had no idea but someone out there would. She knew she would find them eventually and make a reason for it. This was the promise she was making that day and knew she would never forget her baby girl who had brightened her life for only a few short months. The memories would stay with her forever and that was exactly how it was meant to be. Nothing would change them.

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