A few weeks ago, probably more than that actually as time seems to be lost on me at the moment, a spider laid her egg sac in the corner of our bedroom. We noticed her one day as she sat devoutly guarding it and nurturing it. For weeks and weeks she sat there and we wondered how she was surviving as she had no web spun ready to catch any food to keep her going. She just sat and watched and waited for these eggs to hatch. We looked up on the internet when they might hatch, opinion ranged from 2 weeks to over a month. So we waited with her, we checked every day to see if there had been any progress - I would ask John to check as he is taller than me and she had tucked the sac away quite carefully. Spider mum just waited patiently for her babies.
After we lost Lucy we decided to come home briefly, to go and see the nursery and basically force ourselves to get that part done with and see how we felt. Whilst we were home we went into the bedroom and as we gathered some clothes together we noticed that spider mum had gone. But the egg sac was still there. It looked lifeless and given the amount of time it had been there we both decided that the eggs would not be hatching, too much time had passed. Spider mum had obviusly realised this too and finally left her eggs without ever meeting her babies. Spider mum had lost her babies too. This to me now seems really poigniant, I lay in bed this morning looking up at the sad, lonely sac. I am wondering was this a sign to us of what would and has happened, or is it just a strange coincidence that Spider mum has suffered a bereavement in the same way as us? Months of waiting for the arrival of your babies only to find at the last second that you would not be meeting them in life. It makes me feel very sad as she had been such a good, caring Mum and had not left her babies even for a second. It really does reflect what we are going through. Poor Spider mum.
Today the day feels pointless. Every day feels pointless really but we have had small, menial tasks that have kept us occupied. Today is empty and outside it is grey. It all comes back to how changed we are now. We cannot go back to the people we were before we were pregnant, where Saturdays would mean clothes shopping, take aways and then into town with our friends to get completely rat arsed and tumble home ready for the hangover. We cannot go back to being the people we were while we were pregnant, where Saturdays would mean baby shopping, excitedly joining the throngs of expectant parents in Mothercare, cooing over the toys and clothes and wondering if we would have a boy or a girl. Laughing about what it would be like in a few months time when they were here with us and we would be trying to manouvre a buggy around the aisles. How naieve we were.
We can't be the people we thought we were going to be, where our Saturdays would be feeding our little one, changing them, bathing them, catching up on lost sleep, happy visits to grandparents.
So who the fuck are we supposed to be now?
How am I meant to find my place again? I don't fit in with anything anymore. Today is stretching ahead of me and I don't know what to do. I am not 100% well enough to do some of the things I would like as I lost a lot of blood after giving birth and my health has suffered. Stupid body, I just want it to heal quicker.
All I have is the lap top and hours and hours of reading through other peoples grief, which is very comforting to know that we are not alone, but ultimatley very distressing as well to read through peoples raw grief - I question Why? at the end of each story. It seems so unfair that this tragedy has to happen to so many people. All of the stories I read reflect our own in some way, some of the lines written are identical to thoughts or feelings we have had over the last week or so. I think the trouble is I am hoping that somewhere in these stories there will be the magical piece of advice on how the hell I cope again with just doing ordinary, everyday things. For someone to tell me how I can slot back into a normal life as though this has never happened. But there is no way you can do that and no advice to be given on how to mend our broken hearts. You just have to get on with it. You just have to exist. That is all I feel we are doing, existing. We get up, we wash, we get dressed, we have cup of tea. We cry, we pull ourselves together, we pack away baby things. I feel like an idiot for even thinking we would have a baby that we could take home and love. I have this weird feeling in my gut that I KNEW this would not turn out well. I am not just saying that, I did have this weird feeling throughout my pregnancy that it would turn out badly, I found it hard to imagine having a baby in the house. So now I am wondering did I WISH this upon myself? Did I curse myself having these thoughts? Or was this predetermined and I had some sort of vision of what was to come? Or was I just worrying because of the other miscarriages and it is just pure coincidence that our happy ending has not happened? I pray it is pure coincidence, that my feelings were just a result of my other losses and that I had every chance of my fairytale ending, as much as any other mother. I pray this because of the sinking feeling I have of never being a mother, and this happening again. And if this is a vision or a curse then I feel like I already know we'll not ever have our happy ending, and that is just too much to bear.
I miss Lucy, my darling little girl. I wanted a baby girl so much, I loved her so much whilst she grew inside me. I love her so much, and I feel helpless that I couldn't protect her or save her. I feel guilty that she is all alone at the funeral parlour. I feel guilty for John. He cried today when he saw the T shirt his Brother and Sister in Law bought for him in preparation, it says 'I'm the Daddy'. He cried and said how he had wanted to wear it. And it is breaking my heart so much because he is hurting and so broken and I feel that it is my fault. I am a failure as a woman, I am unable to produce a live offspring for him to cherish. I wonder if he ever thinks about what would have happened if he had married someone else. If his life would still have taken this sad turn or if he would be a Daddy by now. I imagine he would be a Daddy by now and I torture myself with this thought. I am responsible for his grief and agony. I am faulty goods.