Members Muad Dib Posted April 6 Members Report Posted April 6 We had a wonderful Easter that year. Our family came for a lovely meal. We played games and enjoyed seeing and feeling Ellison's kicking and movements inside the tummy of my wife. We laughed, we joked, and we were so so happy. The next day was the final scan and check before inducing. Mt wife and I are both tall so Ellie had sprouted and there wasn't a lot of room in there so we had agreed to induce a week prior to the due date. We had already experienced two miscarriages so we were cautious already. Each time we had got past the number of weeks we prior had experienced loss, we were nervous. Surely now we would be ok? We went to the hospital first thing and waited our turn. We were invited in and my wife laid down ready for the scan. By now my heart was full of happy. My mother would be arriving from the UK within a few days (I am from the UK but had already lived in the USA for almost 20 years) and we were making preparations for celebrating Ellie's arrival. There was no heartbeat. That's when everything changed. Disbelief. Angst. Sickness. Tears. Hollowness. Massive pressure. Total emptiness. I rushed my wife through the hospital. We were told to go to another department as their scanners were more modern. Maybe there was a chance. But we both already were convinced. Lots of random people kept saying 'congratulations for the baby' as we wheeled through the hospital and they saw my wife's very pregnant tummy. We tried to keep moving and not totally lose it. We arrived and they confirmed the worst news. We then had to go through the birth. She was induced and had to birth Ellie in the 'normal' way. Ellie was so perfect. So beautiful. Yet her cord was so tight around her neck the doctor couldn't release it at first. We spent a day with her... holding her and trying to support each other. I was dying inside. All I wanted to do was run home and burn everything. Clear out the nursery. Burn the cot. Bag everything up. But I didn't. My mind raced. I couldn't believe what was happening. I was there for my wife and did all I could to console her. There were people everywhere yet I had never felt so alone. The next weeks were the darkest times. So many people calling with congratulations... expecting us to have a healthy baby. All our neighbours not understanding where we were... hiding inside the closed curtains. Our friends and family supported us in any way they could but nobody ever knows what to say and we didn't know what to do. We ran away to Aruba for two weeks after the funeral. The funeral was the worst day... dark skies, heavy rain, muddy grass, upset tummy, hollow soul... I never thought I would have to carry my child's casket. My friends couldn't look at me. They tried to talk. I didn't know what to say. We got to Aruba and just talked and talked. We drank and we ate. We knew nobody. We met people but couldn't talk about our loss yet. We hid there. We didn't know what else to do. When we returned to the USA we started work again but had to go through the horrible conversations again... over and over. We found a support group made up of couples who had gone through similar. Everyone's stories were different. Gut wrenching and desperately sad. We went for a couple of years. It helped to talk about it and realise it wasn't just us. I was a photographer and volunteered for NILMDTS (Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep) and would be called by hospitals to take portraits of other families with demised babies. I did this for two years. I tried to help the other parents sharing that I was suffering a similar type of loss. But my wife and I grew apart. We went on to have two beautiful children together but as you can imagine, each pregnancy was very very difficult, embedded with worries and concerns every moment and threaded with true disbelief that there would be a positive outcome. But there was thankfully. We are both so proud of our children and we are great friends and support each other. But after Ellie, we lost our 'us.' We lost our love and passion and togetherness. I don't know why. Was it because we didn't trust each other anymore? Could I not support her and save our baby somehow? Could she not tell Ellie was in trouble? I don't know. It was unspoken about. It was gone. We moved back to the UK as a unit but then separated a few years later. My guilt of not being able to hold together my family started about then. My overthinking. My catastrophizing. My second guessing. My total loss of personal confidence. I lost my marriage, my family and what seemed like my life. I moved away chasing a new chance. I fell into a troubled relationship quickly and pined for togetherness, support and belief in myself... none of which I found. I ended up on my own in a new area with no friends, no support and no trust in myself. Covid happened and then that took away my opportunity to visit my children too... at first. I found work where I could. I went on benefits very short term. I was desperate. I lost all faith in me, in my decisions and actions and I had zero confidence. I started to think I was going to end up living rough... what chance was there. Suicide was high on my mind. How could I do it? Where? When? I made a plan. Somehow I shook myself up and started to run. I would run every day along empty streets and canal paths. Music in my ear was my saviour. 5k a day quickly grew to 10k... then 15k. I found some new work. I found more. I started to believe again. Little inklings of hope arrived. I managed to move back closer to my kids and build my world around them. I supported my wife as best as I could and slowly grew ties again with my family. I found better work and then started to really put things back together. Since then the last couple of years improved. Unfortunately I did lose my Dad too last year. Although I have always felt I lost him many years ago... but maybe I'll post something about that another day. I still feel very very lonely. When I am on my own I over think and I still have to consciously push away negative thoughts. I'm not skilled at this at all yet. I have bursts of positivity here and there. I love my job and I am really good at what I do. I adore my children and will move mountains for them. I would love to find someone one day who I can laugh with. One day. I'm not sure why I shared all this. I guess I needed to get it out in words and let others know maybe what they are going through will work out ok some day. I do feel as though families who go through parental loss need a great deal of support. But I don't know how that looks or works. I still feel broken and just talking about Ellie can make me feel as though I have just been stabbed in the stomach. And it's been almost 17 years. 1
Moderators KayC Posted April 6 Moderators Report Posted April 6 It helps to get it out. This is a caring community, a safe place to do that. I am very sorry for your losses, your baby, and your marriage. I know what that's like, mine weren't full term, but very wanted, I did fertility treatment, took me years to get a child, once my body worked I had another. My marriage didn't make it either...23 years. I found my soulmate and we were so happy...then he died, barely 51. I don't know why I'm telling you this either, maybe I recognize an understanding soul from having gone through it. Wishing you the best in your future. I'm 71 now, growing old alone, it's been 19 years Father's Day since losing my husband. 1
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