Memory, so few we had, and so many more we’ll never have.
Today I’ll share pictures I’ve never shared before.
My first meeting with Melody.
She was born at 13:46 on the Sunday after noon, I didn’t get to see her for 6 hours.
6 terrifying hours, waiting, hoping.
Trying to take it all in that my baby was 13 weeks early, was born not only squeaking, a chatter box much like her siblings, but she was born fighting.
These pictures were of me meeting my tiny, TINY daughter for the first time.
My lovely midwife had freshened me up from my awful section, even put my hair back.
John had held my drips for me while being wheeled to see her.
I was terrified to touch her, to get too close, what if I hurt her, what if touching her meant she would die?
I just wanted to hold my baby in normal circumstances, would I even ever get to hold her?……
So many tears from mummy, but I wasn’t allowed to cry for long….
(I’ve added more to my journal ready for publishing…….)
I also have an obscure negative memory, a memory that the hospital took away from us.
A memory box, a chance to take our baby’s hand and feet castings,
something we can never ever do, items that would have helped build more memories for her.
I’m guessing we’re “lucky” in the way that I have some amazing friends who gave us a beautiful memory box to make absent memories,
but when you take something for granted, it’s easily made into a negative memory.