Ok, here goes……………….
Three years ago, on the 4th May 2008, my beautiful son Andre was stillborn at full term. I have no idea of his birthweight as no-one actually weighed him at the time. I also have no idea as to why he didn’t make it, he appeared to be perfectly formed and the autopsy didn’t show any obvious cause, so they told me some seven weeks later as I was not allowed to actually read the autopsy report! ( guys exact words were “you will not understand it dear!”)
He was something of a total surprise to me, since BabyMibs was born I had actually only “done the deed “ once, and that was whilst slightly drunk and feeling sorry for my single momsy self, not to mention the stupid hope that BabyMib’s Dad would actually want to give up his single lifestyle and settle down!
Nevertheless, once informed at 5 mths gone, I did everything right, exercised gently, walked lots, tried to eat fairly well etc, and everything appeared to be going really smoothly. I DID feel a lot sicker the second time around, and by 8 mths I seriously couldn’t bend down at all, everything hurt too much, but all scans and midwife trips seemed to be fine.
It got to a week, a Tuesday, before his due date of 6th May 2008, and I had a standard last minute Midwife clinic check-up, you know, the one where they press down hard on your belly ( to this day I still don’t know why they do that, same midwife did the same with BabyMibs ) and have a listen, and after applying that horrible cold gel to my expanded belly, she made a call to the hospital, no reason given to me, to book some appointment, to her credit she tried to get me in that day but seemed to get fobbed off for two days.
She told me that it was a routine last minute scan………..conveniently forgetting that I had already had BabyMibs and kinda knew it was far from routine, BUT as I could still feel Andre kicking merrily if painfully away, I didn’t allow myself to stress too much.
Come Thursday, I was even more tired than I had already been, and trooped off to the hospital, found no car parking spaces ( it’s amazing what stupid bits you remember) and had to walk almost a mile to the maternity wing.
After waiting an hour longer than the appointment time arranged, I finally got scanned, and that has to be the start of the most surreal and unreal times of my life thus far. The nurse doing the scan went quiet, left the room, and came back armed with another nurse, who double checked with a second scan, I was then asked to wait again in the waiting room WITH ALL THE HAPPILY PREGNANT WOMEN, for I think, about half an hour, and god that seemed to be the LONGEST half hour, I think I knew sort of by then as I had the receptionist provide me with two glasses of water, one quite hot and one almost freezing, in the hopes of “waking” movement of the baby. He HAD moved plenty that morning before the hospital visit, and I knew he often reacted to sudden temperature changes.
Eventually, after what seemed like a lifetime, I got ushered into a room with lots of doctors, nurses, etc, around 7 peeps all told, to be told that they thought my baby had died.
My reaction at this point was to leave the room shaking my head, muttering that they were wrong, and went home in a very strange dazed state……………..