Saturday 2 August 2014

3 Months Later

3 months, a quarter of a year later. It's an eternity.  3 months ago today my littlest wing, my youngest daughter, my Grace died and in the early hours of tomorrow morning it will be 3 months since she was born. 

There are so many feelings and thoughts vying for attention in my head. Here are some of them.

A complete lack of understanding as to why the world hasn't stopped. It feels like no realises that everything changed for me that day. Everything. I remember so clearly leaving the hospital with Siobhan and looking around in mystification. The world looked different, felt different and people were just going about their buisness as normal. How dare they. And it still feels that way, sometimes I just want to shout at people "Don't you realise what's happened?"

A complete sense of awe over my wife. If I feel a little broken then how does my wife who carried that little life for 9 months feel. 3 months later I am still awed by her ability, in the middle of the most awful labour to declare that she was going to deliver this child with the Grace she deserve and in so doing provide her with a name. I am in awe of this women in who has donated over 20 litres of breast milk for neonatal units.

I am moved anew by the support of friends and family and stunned at how you have raised over £2000 for SANDS and £1000 for the United Kingdom Associations of Milk Banks as well as giving to us personally

I am still stunned and thrilled by how many people have and continue to post a #momentforgrace

I am so in love with my daughter Alannah whose response to the whole thing has been raw, honest, moving and heartbreaking and whose utter hilarious day to day craziness brings me joy.

I am moved with joy every time it see a newborn. I love that life works sometimes and I am overcome with sadness at the most random things some times.

I ache to father Grace and no other child will ever replace that ache. I remember dressing her in her stillness, putting on a nappy that seemed so redundant but so necessary. The sweetness and  pain of doing that indelibly marking my soul. I remember leaving her in a corner to attend to Siobhan who was struggling with a stuck placenta and feeling guilty for leaving her alone. And I cannot bury that feeling of abandoning her.

I find joy in each day. I refuse not to. I think of Grace and I smile, I think of Grace and the thin veil that hides my sadness becomes more apparent.

3 months. It's been an eternity and yet no time at all.


Mars said...

An eternity.

You have my heart.

Aneetsirk said...

<3 Somewhere out there, she knows just how much she means to you. She will always be yours.

Saranga said...

Is it crass to say thank you for writing this? It's been 2 months since I delivered my firstborn son, stillborn, and now I don't know what else to say.

I too feel like the world should have stopped and while I can't feel joy at other newborns yet I am glad you can.

Anonymous said...

I am so very sorry. My condolences to you and Saranga. I can not even imagine the pain. This is a beautiful post.

My world has stopped and I honor your precious babies. This world is poorer for their absence.

I grieve for your families.

David Monteith said...

Hey Saranga

It's not crass at all and I completely understand not being able to find joy in newborns. For my wife it depends on what day it is whether she can or not. For me I have a moment of panic when confronted with small babies and then I force myself to relax and enjoy the parents if nothing else. It's a conscious decision that has to fight with my instinct to run away