Baby Number 3, Babyloss

My hopes for this baby

I hope 2015 will be better. I hope we’ll get to take this baby girl home, it’s so hard for me to be hopeful about her future when I just really want my boys back. I don’t think that feeling will ever go away, I think I will always want them back so badly. But I hope their little sister can help me cope a little bit, I hope she makes the emptiness feel not quite so consuming.

I hope she will be born the day before her due date. I know that sounds silly, but I really don’t want to go overdue, and the day before her due date was her brother’s 40 week due date. That date never belonged to them, really, they were never going to be born then. But if she is born then I feel like it would be a lovely little link to her brothers.

I hope her birth is just like her brothers’. Except the end result will be different. When I gave birth to my boys it really was quite perfect, if they had been born alive others would be envious about how easy and lovely it was. I know I could very well be disappointed this time around, so I’m trying not to be too hopeful in regards to the birth but I really do hope it’s like last time. My partner held my hand the whole way and I was pleasantly surprised by the pain – I have a pretty low pain threshold and thought I’d find labour unbearable. But it was so, so easy. I didn’t have a un-medicated birth; I sucked on gas and at the end they insisted I have an epidural in case my second boy turned around, and I’m not really aiming for an un-medicated birth this time around either, but I think I could do it if this birth is anything like the last one.

I hope I will be able to breastfeed. I know I could run into unexpected difficulties. I hope I won’t find it hard. I would far prefer to breastfeed than formula feed, if only to save money. In the end though I guess all that matters is my baby is fed.

I hope she will talk about her brothers. I’m so worried about how I will make her brothers a part of her life – how can I make a baby, a toddler, or a young child understand she has older siblings if they are not here? I have older half-brothers from my parents’ previous marriages and I barely understood they were my brothers until I was much, much older, because they were simply never there. To me they were just people who visited every now and again. My baby girl won’t even have that, her brothers won’t ever be here. How will she understand they are her brothers when all she sees are photos?

I just hope everything will be okay.


More tragedy…

Well, we said goodbye to 2014 with hopes that 2015 would be better. I still hope it will be better, but so far it’s not off to a great start…

3 days into the new year my partner went for a motorbike ride with one of his best mates – just down to the forest, something they did all the time. They were decked out in all their safety gear, like usual. It was just a normal day, I didn’t even say goodbye to them as they left. I barely noticed them leaving.

A little while later, I saw the first ambulance go by headed in their direction. I immediately grabbed my phone to call my partner and discovered he’d left his phone at home (they usually do, so their phones don’t get lost). So I tried to convince myself the ambulance could be for anyone. That they would be home soon.

But they didn’t come home. Instead, more emergency vehicles drove by, headed towards the forest. I think in total I saw 3 ambulances, 4 police cars and 1 SES vehicle. Two hours had passed since the first ambulance, and it hadn’t driven back past again, so I knew something had to be seriously wrong. By this point I was crying, I was trying not to freak out. I thought surely someone would call me? Surely someone would tell me if something had happened? I held on to a tiny bit of hope that the ambulance hadn’t been for them, because no one had come to tell me anything. Maybe my boys were just helping out the person who had been injured.

I sat out the front of the house waiting for something to happen. For them to come home, or for someone to tell me what was going on. Every time I heard a sound that sounded even remotely like a motorbike I thought “that’s them!”… It never was. Eventually my across-the-road neighbour noticed me sitting out the front and walked over. I cannot describe how I felt when I saw him walking over. I had to let go of the tiny bit of hope I still had that my boys were both okay. I knew if he was coming over, he had to be telling me something bad.

The first words out of his mouth were “Matt’s okay”. I was so relieved, so grateful for those words. I asked whether his mate was okay. My neighbour just shook his head. I didn’t ask anything more, I didn’t need to. I just cried.