Saturday 12 April 2014

So do I say sorry first?

I've spoken about triggers before- a trigger is something that unsettles you if you're feeling a bit wobbly. Those times that Paul quickly finds another channel without babies or adverts about families with their 2.4 children whilst I get red eyed and sniffly.

John Lewis is a big trigger for me. When I was starting to lose baby number 3, we went to pick up some bits I'd got for Christmas and to spend the last few vouchers of our wedding list. I was bleeding on and off and feeling like shit but I was definite that I needed to DO THIS RIGHT NOW. Yes, it was stupid. I should have rested at home but it was something structured to do. Christmas shopping before we ran off for our honeymoon in the US, it needed doing. Paul and I stopped for some lunch in the cafe there and there was the ugliest baby you could ever imagine sitting at the table next to us. She had that child snot that smells funny (if you're a teacher or a parent, you know exactly what smell I'm talking about) and was generally a bit meh. When I miscarry, the morning sickness becomes even more heightened so I was running to and from the loo every five minutes and all I could smell was this poor kid's snot. She was unwell, poor baby and probably shouldn't have been dragged around the shops by her parents but she became the target of my anger at losing another baby.

She was quite fixated on Paul and kept looking at him, grinning. That pissed me off even more. Why should she get to look at Paul when our baby doesn't? So he started chatting to her and I ran off to vomit and wail in the toilets.

As for the shopping trip, I bought all the wrong stuff too. Didn't check what things were before we bought them so we ended up with mismatching pillowcases and all different styles of pillows (I never knew there were so many styles!). We also have one funny knife and fork that don't match the rest. They're like constant reminders of that horrible day! They sit there in the airing cupboard and in the cutlery drawer saying, "You silly cow. You should have just left it until after you came back from America."

I still hate John Lewis but I'm determined to beat my hatred. I was there yesterday with my mum whilst we were picking up my Easter present (a tailor's dummy). I swerved and grimaced at the yummy mummies with their huge LOOK AT MY FUCKING BABY prams and I had tunnel vision through the baby section that you have to walk through to get to the cafe. The knitting pattern book that my mum had pointed out when I was pregnant with baby number 4 was still there. The Silver Cross pram that she said she'd get us was there. Sadly, the babies that those pregnancies were meant to have those clothes and pram aren't here.

A lot of people have been distressed by other people's reactions to their pregnancy losses, so how should you react? A pregnancy loss is a normal occurrence. Obviously- some people never lose a pregnancy and then there are people like me keeping up the averages! Nevertheless, it's a regular thing that happens to a lot of people and this is my ten things that I needed people to do and know when I lost my five. (This is in no specific order.)

1)  Acknowledge the baby that was lost: You might not have cooed over the expanding bump, liked the grainy sonogram or run out to buy cute baby socks but there was the potential of life there and from the moment I saw the two lines on the pregnancy test, I wasn't just experiencing cell division, I was expecting a baby. 

2) Let them cry: No, I really didn't need to cheer up. I needed to grieve. A  loss is a loss whether you have countless memories or just a fleeting moment. There's a lot of blaming yourself and your body when you lose a baby- it has let you down in the worst way possible and you need to scream, shout, tear at your hair and be angry. Love cannot only be measured by time but also by lost hopes, expectations and dreams

3) Don't expect an instant reaction: It takes time for things to sink in. For a long time I talked about the pregnancies as embryos/ foetuses. It's taken a long time to link those things with babies.

4) Be sensitive: Complaining about your kids makes me want to roundhouse kick you in the face. Seriously. I have hidden a lot of people's Facebook feeds or even deleted people because I can't take their moaning about sleepless nights, feeling like a cow or kids vomiting on them. Another sore point are endless bump pics and complaints about pregnancy- I might be saying it but believe me, I'm not the only one who thinks it about your posts, pregnancy loss or not. 
Sensitivity also goes for what you say. I know you want to tell me in a sort of Hunger Games kind of way that "The Odds Are Ever In Your Favour", but right after a loss I'm Rue. The little dead girl covered in flowers. Don't tell me it'll be ok because right then, it isn't and it's ok that it's not ok! Offering your kids is not ok either. Ever. Neither is mentioning adoption. Did you do it? No? Well then. I know it's an option but I want to have a go at having a baby that is genetically Paul's and my own right now. Believe me, working in Woolwich as a teacher is knowledge enough of what a decent home can do for a child but I want to have a go at having my own.

5) Don't forget Dad too: He is very lost as to what's going on. He has an emotional mess for a partner who is bleeding heavily and still has symptoms of pregnancy like sore boobs or vomiting even though they've lost the baby. He's also lost a baby too- he had a part in creating it and there are moments when this hits them. Like when co-workers ask about the due date of the baby that was lost a few months before or even those kindly folk that ask when there's going to be kids as you make, "such a lovely couple"! Don't forget about them, they're doing the daily mopping of tears, walking the dog and trying to keep things going whilst other bits fall apart.

6) Support: A kind look, a hug or an arm squeeze means a lot. There are words for people who lose their parents or partners but there is no word for someone who has lost their child. You don't need to say anything just a wink in your direction as your face starts to fall can mean the difference between glistening eyes or a full breakdown.
Specific help can really help too- don't say, "Call me, if you need anything"- offer instead to go for a walk, or a night out or a trip to a gallery.

7) Religion: As someone who is pretty irreligious, I still find comfort in hearing that you have spoken to angels or been praying for me. That to me says how much you love and care for me and means the world. Saying that it's god's will however may result in me punching you to a bloody pulp. It just shows ignorance and insensitivity- at least look at it scientifically- they would never have been a healthy baby with that genetic code. That gives me comfort without you bringing god into it.

8) Cards and things: Personally, I like things that remind me of happy memories. I have a jug I painted with my mates- I think it was for my thirtieth birthday- it is so lairy and bright with swirly paint, it's brilliant! I don't really want to have a house full of teddies telling me that I'm in someone's thoughts. For some people it's helpful, me, not so much. my keychain is full of things that my class have made or bought for me so much that I struggle to get my keys in the door. The one time I had one of those "Hallmark/Clintons" by the counter things bought for me was by a kid in my class who wanted an angel to look after me. That kid is now 15 and I still have it. I don't want things to remind me of my losses. I may at some point buy some plants to go in the garden as a memory of each baby but cards and things aren't my thing. If you must spend you money on me, I'll have a bottle of gin or red wine but really your money would be better put into a charity who might work towards other people not going through this.

9) Significant dates: Due dates are a bitch. They ooze sniping self criticism and the type of darkness that can only be achieved by having your eyes gouged out and then being buried fifty feet below the Earth's surface. Not only due dates though, the different trimesters, Christmas, Easter, birthdays and wedding anniversaries. They're all a bit shit because there's something you haven't achieved unlike the rest of mankind. Please understand if we become a little teary or grumpy on this day and the days around it.

10) Everyone is different: No list for how to look after someone after a pregnancy loss will ever match someone's needs. I've seen quite a few on the interwebs and most of them make me angry. This is just my idea of how I need to be looked after. Everyone's grief process is different. Some people bounce straight back, some people never move on. Everyone's triggers are different too. Loss is hard- think when you have lost someone who you were very close to. It doesn't take days, weeks, months to get "over it", once someone has been a part of your life, they always will. Life is fleeting-you just need to love well and work hard to get through it.

Over and out.

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