I haven’t posted for a few weeks as truthfully I have just felt so low. Like all the energy has been literally zapped out of me!
2 weeks ago today was my beautiful daughters 2nd birthday which also represented an anniversary for me. 2 years since losing my womb, 2 years since nearly bleeding to death, 2 years since I thought I’d lost her. I hate the fact that it still hurts. Alot. I hate the fact that only my husband seems to get why. I hate the fact that my own Mum had a go at me for feeling like this and told me I should enjoy the day and not make it all about me. That cut me to the core, it really did.
Does my Mum not think that I want her day to be a happy one. That I don’t want to have to remember all that I do? That I don’t want to feel like this forever. Like I’m just existing not living. Like I’m stuck in a nightmare of awful images, recollections from theatre and ITU. Having that constant sense of foreboding hanging around me like a bad smell? Feeling anxious pretty much all of the time.
I saw a baby in the reception area of the Doctors today and melted into tears. Tears for the baby she’ll never be again, tears for the baby I will never carry again, tears for the terrible images still ingrained in my mind of her arrival.
I hate this, I hate feeling like this and I hate feeling so judged for the way I feel. My Mum judges me, the NHS judges me, friends judge me, work colleagues. One last week asked how I was and when I told her it had been a bad year when everything had hit me she replied ‘why, still?’. I felt like screaming at her but instead I sat there and tried to justify myself again, for the millionth time since it all happened.
Everyone tells me how I should be feeling, how lucky I should feel, how grateful I should be for my babies, how lucky I am to have one of each. I know all of these things. I just wish that some would just listen to me like my husband does and allow me to feel what I feel. Allow me to acknowledge the pain and grief and then I know I can move on and learn from all of this.