State of Disbelief

Amanda, clearly in a state of shock was given the opportunity to have a bath and when she was finished and dry we along with Mia were moved to a quiet bereavement room down the corridor.  We were left alone to console each other for a period of time, I have no idea for how long.  Neither of us are particularly religious but we were offered the services of the hospital chaplain who was a really kind, considerate man who helped us considerably.  He baptised Mia and gave us a certificate to mark the occasion, it was not something that either of us had thought about but it was a really poignant moment and something that I am very pleased we were given the opportunity. 

The maternity nursing team were again so supportive.  They dressed Mia in a baby grow, placed the smallest pink woollen hat over her tiny head and wrapped her snuggly in a knitted blanket.  She looked so peaceful, just like she was contently sleeping.  They asked if they could take some photos for us, we agreed.  We now understand why they did so, they had already got suspicions over what had happened.  One thing I would like to say at this point though is how amazing the team are with a bereaved father as though they realised that my emotions were important to.  When I became a father some 10 years before it seemed like the father was almost invisible.  I’m not for one moment saying that the father should be cared for in the same way as a mother who has just given birth but it was noticeably different.  For example, offered cups of tea, they made sure not only Amanda ate properly but myself also, nothing was too much trouble.  It was just a stark contrast from my 2 more happy experiences of childbirth from years before. 

Amanda and I have a number of children from previous relationships but neither of us had experienced the birth of a very premature baby before.  Mia had a large rash on her scalp and forehead, we asked ourselves was that normal for a baby of that gestation?  Was there more to it than cruel bad luck of Amanda’s waters breaking at that point in the pregnancy?  What induced the labour and why was Amanda so ill?  Why did she become so ill so quickly? A million questions were starting to come into our heads.  We couldn’t think straight but the one thing we did know was that we deserved answers.

By now of course, we were having to go through the horrendous ordeal of letting Mia’s grandparents, aunties and uncles know that she had passed away.  I had to work out how on earth I was going to tell the children, I had no idea how I would be able to do that.  We were advised by the maternity nurses to sleep next to Mia in her cot that night, we did that.  Perhaps surprisingly, both Amanda and I slept soundly that night, perhaps overcome with grief was the reason waking pretty much at the same time around 6am, for a beautiful split second everything was OK with the world until the realisation hit.  Mia laying silently sleeping is a vision installed indelibly in our memories that we can both take to the grave with us, and she was our perfect baby girl.  We both had to face the fact that our dreams had been shattered….

Then the moment came when we both knew that we had to say goodbye to our darling little girl, it was obvious that her frail, tiny body was starting to show signs of deterioration.  We told Karen that we were ready, as ready as we would ever be.  Neither of us had ever felt as empty as that moment.       

We were presented with a gorgeous memory box for Mia, this contained photographs of Mia after she had been cleaned up, done in such a way where she looked like she was peacefully sleeping with no evidence of the rash, a lock of her hair, her hand and footprints displayed in a frame, her teddy bear, irreplaceable things that we could keep with us forever.  Other photographs displaying the rash in detail were also in the box, they are still incredibly hard to look at.  To this day, that box remains in our bedroom, by the window - sometimes we will talk to the box, it may sound slightly crazy but perhaps only a bereaved parent can truly understand that.  When we were given the box we were told to make sure we used the photographs of Mia in any way that we need to.  We were also told by the maternity team to be aware of the term and existence of ‘B Strep’.  It was only later that we come to realise what that meant.  We were informed that due to the unknown factors surrounding Mia’s premature birth, the placenta would tested by a pathologist and we would be called back to be informed on the results.

We left hospital without our baby girl, this was unbearable, going back home, to her home, to see items such as the car seat that had been given to us by Mia’s auntie only a couple of weeks before in the corner of the room.  The eldest of the children was told straight away and he understood that we needed space and he needed to stay with his granddad for a couple of days, the others attended school as usual – we had to keep things as normal as possible.  Within a day or so, messages of sympathy were coming in from those close to us, the word was getting around the town, Desborough has very much a small town mentality with gossipmongers who see no wrong in discussing things that are heard third hand, why bother respecting privacy when there’s a story or rumour to be started – it was clear that the rest of the children needed to be informed.  Amanda and I discussed how the other children would need to be told.  My children were not so much of an issue, we had a few days before they were back with us and as they live with their mother a few miles away they were not at the mercy of town gossip or for that matter social media.  Like any children, they all have their different traits, some more placid than others, they all though would be classified as the sensitive kind and this news would hit them all hard.  I suppose you double-guess how you think they will react individually to bad news.  I called Amanda’s children and drove over to be with them, Amanda just couldn’t do it.  We sat in my car outside their father’s house, they must have knew that something was badly wrong and I gently broke the news.  It was terribly difficult, I felt like I had let them down too.  They were obviously upset, I didn’t really know how they were feeling, back then, like most step-children they don’t really confide in a step-parent.  I was concerned about them, I knew they were deeply worried about their mum.

Next it was my children, they weren’t actually supposed to be over with us until the following Thursday but I couldn’t keep up the pretence of things being OK, Amanda being in hospital.  Like always, I had phoned them regularly, they wanted to see her, they wanted an assurance that the doctors were saying that their baby sister was going to be OK.  I agreed with their mum to pick them up after school on the Thursday evening and let them stay with us for the night.  All I remember is driving them back towards Desborough thinking to myself, please don’t ask any questions whilst I am driving and how are they going to react when they learn the truth.  It was mid-January, cold, dark and depressing.  I didn’t want Amanda to see them react, I didn’t know how they would react but I suspected that it would not be as calmly as Amanda’s children.  I parked up a few streets away and told them that I had some news about their baby sister.  I managed to tell them that she was born on Monday evening.  They didn’t let me say anymore… the car must have been rocking with them kind of singing a sort of ‘we’ve got a baby sister’ tune.  Then the older one could see me crying, he asked me why – I managed to tell them that Mia was so poorly when she was born and she didn’t make it.  Their faces changed and tears streamed down their faces.  That image will always stay with me.  When I had managed to compose them we had to go and walk through the front door, they both gave Amanda the biggest hug imaginable and they spent the evening looking through Mia’s memory box.

I had no idea how I would be able to tell my colleagues at work.  I’ve worked for the same software house since 1997 and I have some close friends there.  It’s a great company, many people have worked there for virtually all of their careers.  They’ve seen me go through a lot, they’ve helped me cope with stress and anxiety attacks many years before, helped me get over the pain of my marriage breakdown in more recent times.  I decided I could not tell them face-to-face, I wasn’t emotionally able to cope with it.  I constructed an email, it took me ages to get the words right and that was sent to a dozen or so individuals – it was the only way I could make that kind of announcement.  I had to tell Amanda’s boss, she too had worked in the same shop for many years, very well known in the area and had a lot of regular customers.  Clearly, it was going to be sometime before Amanda could think about work, I had to make it quite clear that Amanda would not be fulfilling her shift patterns at the shop anytime soon.