After giving birth to Zoe and Kian I had to have Kian's placenta surgically removed. Because the birth was so premature it didn't come out on it's own. The surgery was supposed to take 10 minutes according to the surgeon, but it ended up taking 4 hours, and I lost more than a liter of blood, so I was told to take it really easy when they finally let me leave the hospital.
Partly because of that, and partly because I just couldn't face the world outside I haven't left the apartment at all since Sunday, and the two weeks before that I was on total bedrest, so essentially I have just moved between bed, the couch and the bathroom for three weeks now, except for the taxi trip back and forth to the hospital.
Today I decided to come with Rob for a little walk, just down the street, I still get a bit dizzy sometimes. We walked down to the local art store and got some laminating sheets and some paint supplies, had a coffee at Starbucks and then walked back home. No biggie, right? The only problem is that this city is full of pregnant women and parents with toddlers. The toddlers doesn't really bother me nearly as much as I expected based on other women's stories, but the pregnant ladies are really difficult to watch, and they are everywhere.
I remember the feeling I had when my grandparents died in a fire back in 1996. It was such a huge shock and I had no previous experience with death, so it hit me really hard. For a long time after that the world outside just seemed completely different, as if I was watching it through a whole new set of emotional glasses. I also remember I would feel anger towards teenagers on the bus laughing and joking around. 'How can they laugh in a situation like this?'
I had a little bit of the same feeling today. Not really any anger, but as the world have changed completely, yet is exactly the same as before. I don't know how to describe it, it's such a weird feeling. But it was still quite nice in a way too. The weather was beautiful and the temperature wasn't too high, just perfect.
Back home I spent some time laminating the pictures of Zoe and Kian we got at the hospital, so that I can kiss their faces as much as I want without destroying the paper. I did the same thing with the footprint cards and the ultrasound pictures, just to make sure they won't be damaged or fade over time. It was a really nice little ritual for me, carefully applying the laminating sheets and stroking them inch by inch to make sure there was no air bubbles. Since I never got to care for my babies, it felt almost like a substitute for that. I'm an artist, and I put a lot of care into everything I do, but I never put so much love and care into anything as this.
Then I stroked their heads gently, kissed them both and put the pictures back into the box, like I would kiss them goodnight before bedtime if they were alive, and afterwards I felt quite good actually.
Rob and me also had some really good chats today and he finally got to tell his version of Sunday, how he experienced everything that happened, especially during the hours of labor where my memory is a little bit in bits and pieces. Then we talked about the future, about trying again, about Zoe and Kian potentially becoming a children's book and looked at some pictures from the mountains of Switzerland where a friend had lit two little candles for them.
Suddenly it was as if the entire apartment lit up. It actually did, cause the sun was coming around the corner of the building at this exact time, but it was also like this dark veil had been lifted, and for the first time since our babies died we laughed and smiled together for a while.
Then I think Rob finally got some emotions out too. It's been hard for him this week, having to take care of everything, organize with the funeral home and cremation, sign birth and death reports as well as looking after me, worrying about my bleeding, cooking and cleaning. Now that my bleeding has pretty much stopped and I was able to walk around town without any problems and even feeling almost happy, I think he finally managed to relax a little bit and focus a on his own emotions for a moment, and as much as I hate to see him hurt I think that is very good for him. It's a myth that men doesn't hurt just as much as women do, but they don't always get a chance to express it. For women there are a million forums and we get a lot of sympathy and are allowed to cry, while the expectations are quite different for men after something like this.
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