Why couldn’t I have protected them too?
“At Least You Have Other Children”
Back in 2011, the year we had discovered that once again we were pregnant, that once again it would most likely be nothing more than a positive pregnancy test, just like the previous two.
We knew nothing would be that easy.
The weeks soon hit 12 weeks and I was still successfully pregnant, albeit hard work with ectopic fears along the way.
We had literally watched the baby go from teeny, TINY cells, to nothing more than a baked bean, picture at 10 weeks, to a picture with arms and legs at 13.
This was the year that we also didn’t tell our living children, we wanted to wait for “those magic” 12 weeks to hit, we knew the statistics, we were the statistics.
Twelve weeks arrived and the suspense of telling them was over.
They were to be a big brother and sister, their faces beamed with excitement.
“Can it be a boy? “
“No I want a sister”
“Can we name it?”
The banter that they would indeed welcome a new baby in their unit.
Then their tiny sister was born early. They loved her instantly.
The oldest fascinated that her favourite cuddly toy was bigger than her sister.
They were close, well as close as they could be to her.
Then, then they had to be told that their sister had died, what parent would not only want to feel the pain, but watch the heartache unfold in their children’s eyes.
I wanted nothing more to protect them, and we did before 12 weeks.
They of course didn’t deserve it.
“Why did she have to die?”
“Why can’t she come back down on a ladder”
“Let us see her again”
Three questions, again of hurt.
Fast forward to the next pregnancy,
Do we tell them anything at all, how can we protect them.
A Surprise scan blew our cover, but neither were happy.
There was no jumping for joy.
“Will this baby die too?”
“Will it come home?”
No big excitement, it was just words to them.
And why would they believe anything I told them now?
The baby arrived, smiles and laughter resumed.
Happy that their new baby would be coming home.
A new baby that they could keep.
To my relief they had somewhat relaxed.
Only deep down, there remains a fear.
Upon asking my nine year old, about the IDEA of another baby,
I was met with this,
“Only if it doesn’t die.”
What 9 year old, should ever have to say these words?
To know that things end badly.
Why couldn’t I have protected them from this?
I am so proud of these two children, these two children who learnt too quickly.
These two children who are also proud to say..
“My Little Sister Is Melody and She lives In The Clouds”