To cut a long story short. A little background.
After trying to conceive for just one month, I began to grow our Melody, until 26+6 weeks due to severe pre-eclampsia, where mummy was extremely close to fitting (or so we have been told) weighing in at 1lb 5oz!!! She was born a feisty little monkey, keeping us and the nurses on their toes on a daily basis. Our miniature hero! Coming on in leaps and bounds, the roller-coaster slowly climbing high, reaching a discharge date that we could hope for….
Until at 5 weeks old, being told before our arrival she would be put on a ventilator to give her a rest, we walked in to her unit to hear the haunting words she would not survive. Pain ripping through our bodies. Being told her heart had been restarted 5 times, entering the screens to see her having chest compressions-an image no parent should ever see.
While still being ventilated she was passed to us, I felt to scared so John (my husband) held her, both begging her to stay and play. Willing the nurses to say it was a mistake and that she was having her usual apnoea, or a bad day. She was baptised in a few minutes.
Her ventilator was removed, I knew I had to hold her.
09:30 1st April our perfect miniature hero became too tired-forever sleeping.
I have written a full journal of our journey, “Butterflies and Snowdrops” though “not ready” to share-yet.
The weeks have passed, not sure if slowly or far too quickly. An obsession with the time has become a thing for me.
Learning she had passed away from an infection close to meningitis; meant for me wishing I could blame myself, will always blame myself. Having stopped growing at 23 weeks, our time spent with her was precious.
Have learned to deal with people’s ignorance and avoidance, so far time is not a healer.
Words though thought of as helpful, some are just unkind.
And so the next “chapter” albeit unwritten awaits……