There’s something about the 6th of the month that doesn’t quiet work with our family. Well, apart from my dad’s birthday that is. The 17th is amazing. We got married on the 17th and our first child was born on the 17th. The 17th is the best. The 6th not so much. The first occurrence of bad luck of the 6th happened in June 2018. That was the when our second child was taken away. 12 weeks into pregnancy. That brought me down to my lowest ebb. Without my wife and child, I don’t think there would have been a way back for me. I would’ve ended up in a drunken pile somewhere waiting for the world to swallow me whole. But I’ve recovered, we’ve recovered, to some sort of normality.
So, what happens when you lose a child that you so desperately want? That’s right you jump right back on it and try again. It took a few months to be in the right frame of mind to get going but we did. Injuring my back didn’t help. In fact, it made things even harder. Getting pregnant in an absolute miracle. Time of the month, right amount of good swimmers, egg willing to accept the brave soul that’s made it and completed its journey. Absolute miracle. When you are going through a copious amount of painkillers and not being able to physically do it then it makes it even harder. There were times I thought it’s not going to happen. Not while I’m half crippled, taking all sorts of drugs just to be able to semi-social with the world. However, by some minor miracle, in mid-June my wife gave me the news we had been waiting for just over a year. We were pregnant. This time we were keeping it secret. Telling absolutely no-one. Well I was. My wife in her wisdom told her parents, my parents, and her best friend, as a safety blanket just in case the worst happened. I was also not trying to get excited after how invested we got last time. I didn’t need another hit like that. Well that’s what I thought anyway.
Saturday 6th July 2019. Had to be the 6th. One year and 1 month since the last time that number struck. Becky comes downstairs in tears. She’s been bleeding. My heart sank. It couldn’t be. We were told to go to hospital for tests and to check everything. We went. Tests were done. Not a lot of feedback from the doctors and nurses. Told we would get a phone call for a scan on Monday or Tuesday. Genuinely thought at the time it can’t be as bad as we first thought. Monday comes. No call, so we called them. They didn’t have any further information, call back tomorrow. Still thought nothing of it. Tuesday morning comes and I tootle off for my physio session that keeps me mobile. Afterwards I see a few missed calls from the wife. She told me that, over the phone, they had just said she’s had a miscarriage and that was it. Not come in we need to chat. Just a few seconds over the phone to say she’s had a miscarriage and leave it at that. The rage that came over me was incredible. How can anyone be so cold as to just do that! The next few days were a blur. I just felt numb. I wasn’t as upset as I was the first-time round. Probably because I refused to get attached until 12 weeks were up and I could see a scan and a moving image to prove that it was all real. The one thing that did get to me is that they’ll only do tests to check everything is alright with you and your partner after the 3rd miscarriage. Meaning you have to go through absolute heartbreak and life destroying news 3 times before they do anything about it. THREE fucking times! From the stories I’ve read of other people’s experiences it can happen many more times. Sometimes there is a rainbow at the end of it. Sometimes there isn’t. I think I’m becoming numb to it all. My general feeling is, it is what it is. There’s nothing we can do about it, so try not think about it. There are the odd trigger points though. Baby announcements, baby photos, you know the usual. I don’t resent anyone doing it, in fact I’m so happy they are able to. But I just have a second thinking that could be us. We should have an 8 month old, or be well on our way to having our second. But we don’t. We just have what could have been. I honestly don’t want to think about what our lives would be like without Edward. We are so lucky to already have a child in our life. He is the most amazing little boy and he is the sunshine of our lives. I would do absolutely anything to keep that cheeky grin in his face. Both him and Becky are my world and I would be nothing without them.
I’ve chosen Rolling Stones Gimme Shelter for the title of this as it was the first song on the radio as I was coming back from my physio appointment. The more I listen to it, the more I feel there’s some sort of connection to how I am mentally right now. I’m just needing shelter away from everything that is going on. Two miscarriages have hit me hard. Being off work with chronic back pain with no end in sight is adding to the fragility of my mental state. There was a little relief when we got pregnant, only for it to come down harder. There’s only so many shots I can take before the shelter breaks. Hopefully it’ll be pregnancy number 4 and child number 2 that brings me back from needing to hide. A fully functioning body would help too. In all aspects of life. We’ll see. For now, I’ll stay in my shelter waiting for the shots to end.
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