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will life ever be the same again?
camilla - 03:22pm Jun 24, 2009 EST
Hi,
I'm new here, and don't quite know how to begin. My name is Camilla, I'm 37, and one month ago gave birth to my baby boy at 25 1/2 weeks, but he only lived for two days.
My pregnancy wasn't planned, and I thought getting pregnant would be very hard as I had a uterine fibroid that was already quite big, but pregnant I became.
In the beginning I had a lot of mixed feelings, didn't know if I was ready, if I'd be a good enough mother, if I was cut for motherhood. I didn't tell anyone for the first 3 months, didn't want to jinx it, and just as I started to get used to the idea and to actually enjoy the moment( at 18 weeks) , I started getting cramps and when I went to the doctor he told me my cervix was dilating due to a condition called an incompetent cervix, and that I'd need a cerclage. I had one and it didn't work, so I had to be rushed back to hospital 2 days later, my sac was ready to burst through the stitches, and the doctors managed to perform a heroic procedure by pushing it back up without tearing it and stitching up the little cervix I had left. I was so terrified to lose my baby that night, and my boyfriend stood by me all the time in tears, it took us going through that traumatic episode to realize how much we wanted that pregnancy after all. I was on strict bed rest from then on, which I followed religiously, only getting up once a day to have a shower sitting down. Everything was going well, but not for a second did I feel like we'd won the game, I was forever "holding my breath" and would only allow myself a sigh of relief when my baby boy was safe and sound in my arms. Our goal was to make it to at least 28 weeks, and if we could go past that target, even better. Then out of the blue I started contracting at 25 1/2 weeks, and had to be rushed off to hospital, where my waters broke and my Theo was born that night. It was May the 19th. I delivered him through natural labour, and when the doctor held him I was petrified to even look at him coz he was so tiny and fragile. He was perfect, there was nothing wrong with him, but because he was so young he had to go to the neonatal ICU where he was intubated. My placenta didn't came out, so I had to spend the next day taking drugs to try and get my body to expel it naturally, but that didn't work, so I had to have it removed surgically. I was later told that everyone thought I was going to need a histerectomy, but it wasn't necessary in the end. I was only allowed to see my baby the next day, and even though they allowed me to touch him through the little holes in the incubator I was so scared to hurt him, or to let cold air in. He looked so tiny and fragile with all the tubes stuck to him, and I could hardly see what he looked like. That same night he had a stroke that escalated into what they call a level 4 brain haemorrage and the next morning he was gone. There was no cause, just that his brain was too immature and fragile to deal with that happening. I was in such pain that I didn't hold him in my arms, I felt that if I did I'd die with him there and then. I couldn't even bare to look at him, the sadness was just too overwhelming. He was buried with my grandpa, and I didn't even go to the service because I had a fever and the doctors were worried I might develop an infection as I still had a bit of placenta inside that didn't come out with surgery. My father and my boyfriend took care of everything, while I laid in bed in a state of shock. I really regret not holding him and not going to the service, I should have gone even if they wouldn't let me, I was too much of a coward, couldn't deal with the pain. It's hard for me to use his name, calling him "baby" makes it less painful, I don't know why. I blame myself all the time for having an "incompetent cervix" that resulted in an incompetent body that wasn't able to hold on to him and protect him from being born too early. He was too tiny to have to fight for his life the way he did, and for that I'll never forgive myself, even if rationally I know we can't control our bodies that way. I can't bear to look at his birth certificate, and my mom put away all his things when we got home so I wouldn't have to deal with it. I don't think I would have had the strength to fold away his little clothes.
It all just seems so cruel and unfair. Why didn't I lose him at 18 weeks? Why did life, or God, or whatever it is they call it, let us build up our hopes for a further 7 weeks, let him be born perfect and spend 2 days with us thinking it would be a though battle, but that we were going to make it after all, and then take him away from us, why? why?
I don't know what to do, my family has been great, so have my
friends and everyone around me. I've had an amazing support network, I know I'm truly loved, but none of that will bring him back. I try to get up every morning, to shower, put a fresh set of clothes on, to eat, even though I have no hunger at all, I won't let depression get a hold of me, but it's hard. My boyfriend is putting on a brave face for my sake even though he's hurting just as much, but he feels he has to take care of me and it just doesn't seem to be fair on him, I try not to collapse all the time so he doesn't get upset, but if it was up to me I'd spend all day in bed. I've always been a happy go lucky kind of girl, but now I'm scared of the person I'll become after this. I feel like it all felt like a dream and first, and now that life is slowly going back to normal around me, my mum has returned home, my boyfriend is back to work, my friends don't come over to visit all the time anymore, things are starting to feel more real, and the pain I feel is very raw. I'm going back to work next week coz sitting at home by myself day in day out isn't helping me, at least with work I'll force myself to do things, even if it's on autopilot. I'm lucky to work with wonderful people who have been nothing but supportive throughout this awful journey. I'm scared to get pregnant again, and think I'm too old anyway, as I'll be 38 in October, and he can never be replaced anyhow, never, ever. I'll have to have another surgery in @ 3 months after my body goes back to normal to remove the fibroid, so I still have that to "look forward to"
I never thought life could be so cruel, but there we are. I'm so sorry to have gone on and on, but I've been reading all the stories here, and everyone seems so understanding, I had to share my pain somewhere, with women who had an idea of what I'm going through.
Thank you all for "listening"
Hi,
I'm new here, and don't quite know how to begin. My name is Camilla, I'm 37, and one month ago gave birth to my baby boy at 25 1/2 weeks, but he only lived for two days.
My pregnancy wasn't planned, and I thought getting pregnant would be very hard as I had a uterine fibroid that was already quite big, but pregnant I became.
In the beginning I had a lot of mixed feelings, didn't know if I was ready, if I'd be a good enough mother, if I was cut for motherhood. I didn't tell anyone for the first 3 months, didn't want to jinx it, and just as I started to get used to the idea and to actually enjoy the moment( at 18 weeks) , I started getting cramps and when I went to the doctor he told me my cervix was dilating due to a condition called an incompetent cervix, and that I'd need a cerclage. I had one and it didn't work, so I had to be rushed back to hospital 2 days later, my sac was ready to burst through the stitches, and the doctors managed to perform a heroic procedure by pushing it back up without tearing it and stitching up the little cervix I had left. I was so terrified to lose my baby that night, and my boyfriend stood by me all the time in tears, it took us going through that traumatic episode to realize how much we wanted that pregnancy after all. I was on strict bed rest from then on, which I followed religiously, only getting up once a day to have a shower sitting down. Everything was going well, but not for a second did I feel like we'd won the game, I was forever "holding my breath" and would only allow myself a sigh of relief when my baby boy was safe and sound in my arms. Our goal was to make it to at least 28 weeks, and if we could go past that target, even better. Then out of the blue I started contracting at 25 1/2 weeks, and had to be rushed off to hospital, where my waters broke and my Theo was born that night. It was May the 19th. I delivered him through natural labour, and when the doctor held him I was petrified to even look at him coz he was so tiny and fragile. He was perfect, there was nothing wrong with him, but because he was so young he had to go to the neonatal ICU where he was intubated. My placenta didn't came out, so I had to spend the next day taking drugs to try and get my body to expel it naturally, but that didn't work, so I had to have it removed surgically. I was later told that everyone thought I was going to need a histerectomy, but it wasn't necessary in the end. I was only allowed to see my baby the next day, and even though they allowed me to touch him through the little holes in the incubator I was so scared to hurt him, or to let cold air in. He looked so tiny and fragile with all the tubes stuck to him, and I could hardly see what he looked like. That same night he had a stroke that escalated into what they call a level 4 brain haemorrage and the next morning he was gone. There was no cause, just that his brain was too immature and fragile to deal with that happening. I was in such pain that I didn't hold him in my arms, I felt that if I did I'd die with him there and then. I couldn't even bare to look at him, the sadness was just too overwhelming. He was buried with my grandpa, and I didn't even go to the service because I had a fever and the doctors were worried I might develop an infection as I still had a bit of placenta inside that didn't come out with surgery. My father and my boyfriend took care of everything, while I laid in bed in a state of shock. I really regret not holding him and not going to the service, I should have gone even if they wouldn't let me, I was too much of a coward, couldn't deal with the pain. It's hard for me to use his name, calling him "baby" makes it less painful, I don't know why. I blame myself all the time for having an "incompetent cervix" that resulted in an incompetent body that wasn't able to hold on to him and protect him from being born too early. He was too tiny to have to fight for his life the way he did, and for that I'll never forgive myself, even if rationally I know we can't control our bodies that way. I can't bear to look at his birth certificate, and my mom put away all his things when we got home so I wouldn't have to deal with it. I don't think I would have had the strength to fold away his little clothes.
It all just seems so cruel and unfair. Why didn't I lose him at 18 weeks? Why did life, or God, or whatever it is they call it, let us build up our hopes for a further 7 weeks, let him be born perfect and spend 2 days with us thinking it would be a though battle, but that we were going to make it after all, and then take him away from us, why? why?
I don't know what to do, my family has been great, so have my
friends and everyone around me. I've had an amazing support network, I know I'm truly loved, but none of that will bring him back. I try to get up every morning, to shower, put a fresh set of clothes on, to eat, even though I have no hunger at all, I won't let depression get a hold of me, but it's hard. My boyfriend is putting on a brave face for my sake even though he's hurting just as much, but he feels he has to take care of me and it just doesn't seem to be fair on him, I try not to collapse all the time so he doesn't get upset, but if it was up to me I'd spend all day in bed. I've always been a happy go lucky kind of girl, but now I'm scared of the person I'll become after this. I feel like it all felt like a dream and first, and now that life is slowly going back to normal around me, my mum has returned home, my boyfriend is back to work, my friends don't come over to visit all the time anymore, things are starting to feel more real, and the pain I feel is very raw. I'm going back to work next week coz sitting at home by myself day in day out isn't helping me, at least with work I'll force myself to do things, even if it's on autopilot. I'm lucky to work with wonderful people who have been nothing but supportive throughout this awful journey. I'm scared to get pregnant again, and think I'm too old anyway, as I'll be 38 in October, and he can never be replaced anyhow, never, ever. I'll have to have another surgery in @ 3 months after my body goes back to normal to remove the fibroid, so I still have that to "look forward to"
I never thought life could be so cruel, but there we are. I'm so sorry to have gone on and on, but I've been reading all the stories here, and everyone seems so understanding, I had to share my pain somewhere, with women who had an idea of what I'm going through.
Thank you all for "listening"
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