29 August 2014 changed my life forever. I had ended work early that day after an event and was looking forward to the start of the weekend. J was at the 18th week mark and had a long day at work. She was tired but it didn’t seem like much initially. She cabbed home after her work event and was resting after dinner.
She had mild cramps, which we initially dismiss due to tiredness but the intensity grew stronger. It was worrying, and by around 9+, it didn’t seem like it was subsiding and we decided to go to the A&E.
As we waited, I could see J suffering in pain as the attacks grew in intensity. The worries and the uncertainty were eating into me. Perhaps due to the severity, we managed to get the doctor to attend to her quickly. The initial diagnosis was that it was non-pregnancy related and that provided some initial relief. But that was just the calm before the storm.
The rest of the night went by in a blur, yet key moments will always be etched in memory. Hearing her anguished cries as I rushed to hold her in my arms. But in truth, we were holding onto each other, supporting each other. If I had let go, I would have probably crashed to my knees in a sorry pile. At that moment in time, the world stopped for me. Three was no more, leaving just the two of us in the room. It was painfully lonely.
It was the last time I saw him. I couldn’t bring myself to look at his lifeless body later on. While we said goodbye that day, there’s a special place in our hearts reserved for our baby boy.
Memories rushed to the front. The happiness we felt when we knew of his existence, how excited we were that we would soon become parents, the worries we had when we discovered both of us had thalassemia minor, followed by the relief subsequently that we had differing traits. Alas, all of which no longer mattered. However, I’m thankful for the little joys he did bring into our lifes and that J is OK.
Still, it was a long arduous night. Sleep was neccessary to stay strong for J, but how could I close my eyes? Instead of finding peace, it was anguish that engulfed me instead, as the memories flowed to the front automatically. Despite the sadness I felt, I knew it was much worse for J. Having carried him for five months, and the closer intimate bonds they shared, I knew that the abyss that J was in was something I could not fathom. I needed to be strong for J. We will definitely miss our little boy, but we know that he is in a better place. Some things are not meant to be, no matter what we might otherwise hope. We can only take things one step at a time, and to see how we can grow from this episode. It is unfortunate that there had to be so much anguish in our lives, and for those dear to us. I can only hope that we can recover from this.
For your sake, I will.