Pregnany After Loss (PAL) - The Heartache of Him Forever Being the Youngest
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Today I’m 37+2 with our third, gender unknown. I’m so grateful everything is ok thus far. I’m so grateful I haven’t had to deal with infertility. I’m so sorry to those who do, the emotional toll it would take, physical toll, costs involved, the exhaustion from it all would absolutely be unbearable.
Claude took a few months to conceive, looking back I don’t think I really had a decent understanding of my cycle at the time. We did go down the Chinese medicine path though, and James and I both visited the miracle maker that is Dr. Vu in Devonport, James got his sperm checked and I sought some advice from the knowledgeable and wonderful: the late Kieran Fisher and with his advice to take a progesterone supplement which saw me have my first ever 28 day cycle, Claude was conceived.
Herb was a very deliberate decision, we knew we weren’t ready for a very long time. Owning your own business is like a child so having 2 x restaurants and Claude was a lot for a long time. We worked a lot at the same time when Claude was a baby, something I do regret. He was cared for by grandparents a lot, but we established a good routine for a while. We quickly learnt the systems we needed in place and the people and managers which we’ve worked really hard to develop and are proud of our amazing team we have. The boundaries we’ve put in to place and the ability to work on not just in the business has been a welcome change since having Claude and it’s a rare occurrence now that one of isn’t home; one will be at work and one will be at home, but the majority of the week we are able to be home together at night.
August 2020, we went away to Strahan and stayed at the instagrammable haven that is Captains Rest. We’d never been to the West Coast and during Covid and our states border lockdown, meant it was a perfect time to check it out. We left Claude with grandparents and spent 3 nights sitting by the fire and watched the ducks outside, whilst eating and drinking the copious amount of food I’d packed. Of course, deep and meaningful conversations will ensue in a tiny cottage with no TV and a couple of bottles of wine. We’re both big on fate and James doesn’t mind a punt or gamble (in his mind, he rarely puts up the hard cash, just ask his “punters club” mates), so when the topic of another child came up (which had been tossed around a lot over the years) James decides to toss a coin “Heads, yep, tails, no”. He flipped the coin and said “what do you reckon it is?” and I burst in to tears. I didn’t want it to be tails. I realised for the first time how much I actually wanted another child. I desperately wanted it to be heads. Of course, I realise a coin wouldn’t ultimately mean we would or wouldn’t, I was just very intrigued and surprised by my reaction.
You wouldn’t really describe me as being naturally maternal, I’ve never really been that clucky sort of person. I don’t think I’m great with kids other than my own. James has always been the baby/kid person. He’s a natural with them, interacts with ease. He has always offered to take our guests-in-the-restaurants-kids outside to see the ducks or will take them for tours of the kitchen while the parents eat. For one of my birthday’s before Claude, must have been my 27th birthday – he bought me gift voucher for the local baby store and firmly stated – it has a 12 month expiry on it. It’s always been me that’s needed a bit of convincing. One month I wasn’t ready, and then suddenly I was. And I’ve come to realise all the clichés about children are right. Whilst the challenges they bring, they really are something to cherish. Don’t get me wrong, I admire those who choose not to. All the power to you, seriously! If it’s not for you, it’s not for you. But for James and I, Claude has enriched our lives to an extent we were only really beginning to learn (he was about to turn 4 as we discussed another baby) especially having passed what were the hardest of years for us which were birth to age 4, he was a very full on, busy, crazy little soul.
So, the coin – it was heads. We carefully discussed the impact on work, life and Claude and decided it’s something we’ll consider giving a go in the coming months. We’re not in any rush, but my biological clock is ticking and at 33 I didn’t want to put it off for too much longer. I had always wondered, before Claude was born, how could I love another person equivocally (or more) than James? And the saying is true – your heart expands, it expanded immensely for Claude (not instantly! I despise the pressure on Mum’s to feel this instant love, connection and bond, it took time, especially with him being the first and navigating motherhood for the first time was so hard and foreign!), I was so ready for it to expand again for another of our own.
When I say Herb was conceived on the first go, I’m almost embarrassed to say that he truly was. How the stars aligned kind of baffles me. Knowing, learning and having friends who have been and are currently going through fertility struggles, it really is a miracle to conceive. As mentioned, I’m grateful to not have the emotional and physical turmoil that comes with trying to conceive (TTC). It’s May 2022 and a trip to Bruny Island with friends was just what we needed for a little break. Claude again stayed with grandparents, our friends also left their daughter with grandparents and we ate and drank a copious amount. Upon getting home after a couple of nights away, I reflected that some things tasted funny. I felt a bit ‘weird’. Hmmmm….I wonder, nah, I couldn’t be? We tried once! Low and behold – the two lines appeared on the stick instantly. I burst into tears and decided I’d tell James when I saw him. He’d left his laptop at home so he messaged and asked if I could drop it off. I was on my way to a meeting so we met in the middle of school drop off and my drive to my meeting in town on the side of the road. A slightly inappropriate in-joke we had with our friends on the weekend is the way I delivered the news to him. He almost didn’t quite understand at first, but was both excited and scared at the same time. I figured I was only about a few weeks.
The deliberateness of our decision to have another is something I find adds to the pain of not having him here. As things went wrong with Herb, in those two weeks I proclaimed to James that I wouldn’t be able to do this again. This process was all too painful, the risks too high, the anxiety of another pregnancy I couldn’t wrap my head around at the time. James understood and didn’t protest this statement. But, I distinctly remember, as I’m literally being cut open for the c-section to birth Herbie, I thought “I would do this again for our family, I would go through this all again to hopefully get a healthy child to join our family and our day-to-day lives.” To share our life and love with another human is something I would do for Claude, James and of course for me. I asked our specialist obstetrician when I could try again, at least 6 months post a c-section, especially as it had been my second c-section, preferably 18 months, at the time this felt like a huge blow and just another hurdle, even though I didn’t think I’d probably be ready by then anyway. Just another cruel factor to the situation it felt.
I’d asked other loss mums who’d had more children post a loss (sorry, but I don’t love the term “Rainbow baby”) – when did you know you were ready? Varied answers of timeframe, but ultimately all agreed: when you’re ready, you’ll just know. And almost 12 months post birth of Herb, we decided we were ready. It felt right. I’d also discussed with my psychologist that I wanted to avoid being heavily pregnant around the same time as Herb. I’d struggled to get through last summer with a lot of physical reminders that activated my trauma – lighter nights, hot days, the smell in the air, even the way the light would hit certain places would take me right back to that time of turmoil. I was concerned that it was unhealthy avoidance to want to not be pregnant if I could avoid it around that time, but she agreed it would be really difficult and if I could avoid it, well, there was nothing wrong with that. If we conceived in December I’d well and truly miss being heavily pregnant over summer, the time was ticking if we left it too long and that biological clock was on my mind.
Fortunately, it was first go again. I felt very fortunate, but torn about the news, it came with sadness, guilt and shame seeing the two lines on the stick. It certainly was another moment of holding two things at once – happiness and sadness. Sad that the reason I am doing this again, is because our son is not here.
I had felt a grief bomb waiting to come with this baby surpassing the age of Herb dying. The thought of it made me immensely sad. Of course the trauma brain would tell me I won’t get there at all. But, here we are. I hate the fact Herb is not here, I hate the fact he didn’t get to join our family and live a normal life. I hate that he died. I hate my body caught a parasite. I hate my body for letting it cross the placenta. The date has come and gone, 37 weeks Herb was born, which is what the medical world would consider ‘Full-Term’ (our obstetrician mentioned this the other day). Technically he died at 36+6 at the feticide but I think we can just say he was full-term.
The grief bomb didn’t hit quite as hard as I thought it would. Perhaps because I’d released a bit of pressure prior. A couple of days before I had received a beautiful crotched doll I’d ordered from @inspiredbywhinnie. Taryn was inspired to create beautiful dolls that match the size and weight of your baby after experiencing her own loss of her son - Hudson. I’ve really struggled to get my head around holding a newborn. I’ve absolutely avoided it until recently. I knew it was something I needed to confront before this birth. So I ordered one of these dolls for a bit of exposure therapy. Why would I be so terrified of holding a newborn? Why would I be so scared to hold roughly the same weight of Herb again? My psychologist posed this question a while ago - It’s because I feel like I’d miss him too much, I’d feel too much pain, I’d be reminded too strongly of the worst time of our lives, I’d be reminded too strongly of the overwhelming desire to go with him. The doll came and I just put it in my home office and went about my day, I couldn’t quite confront it.
The next evening, once Claude and James were in bed I opened the box and took a deep breath and held all 3.19kg and 50cm of the crotched doll. I sobbed, but felt a little closer to Herb than I have for a while. I let out some of that howling crying, which I haven’t done in a while. And then wrote to him. It felt like I’d released a little bit of pressure from the valve. I was proud recently that I held one of my close friends newborn – about 8 days old, I teared up a little, but I was comfortable to hold her. I was more in amazement at what a woman can do and produce a little human.
So, our middle child will forever be our youngest. Our youngest will grow up learning about Herbert, his older brother who didn’t get to stay here, but will forever be loved and missed and that all three of our children are so very wanted and so very loved.