It's been a whole 5 years since I gave birth to my previous tiny boy. He weighed just 158g and was 20.4cm long.
I've found the lead up this year different to previous years. Could be a whole host of environmental reasons, my chronic lower back pain, the fact that the lead up to my monthlys are getting worse each month and the fact that once again, I appear to be getting tonsilitus.
The tears haven't fallen as easily as previous years, and I think the guilt is the biggest feeling I am trying to deal with.
I know that I don't love him any less but the guilt is hurting me more.
The husband and I had a 'friendly' debate on what happened 5 years ago. He seemed to remember things differently to me which raised doubts. So much so I made him get the medical notes down from the loft.
We found out on husband's birthday in 2010 (it was a Wednesday) that there looked like there was a cardiac defect. But the images were not clear so we were told to come back on the Monday (15th). It was this scan that they told us they felt he had at least Aortic Stenosis but given the fact that eldest had died from HLHS, they felt that this was the most likely diagnosis for my tiny boy. I couldn't take likelys or probable. I asked for a second opinion. We went to The Evelina where we were told that along with HLHS, he had other complications with his heart. I was given an honest diagnosis by a consultant who did not insult my intelligence with probabilities.
The decision was made between myself and my husband that we couldn't put another child, a child with a more critical diagnosis at 16weeks, through what his brother had been through. We couldn't do it again either. I don't wish to be judged on the basis because he wasn't perfect, he was no longer wanted. I judge myself enough for the decisions we made and I know we made the decision with love, first hand experience and knowledge.
I last felt him move just before I went to bed on Monday 15th February 2010. I sat on the edge of our bed and I prayed to God and I begged my little boy to forgive us for the decision we had made, and he kicked me. A strong kick. I cried.
My medical notes state that he was a Termination of Pregnancy for Fetal Abnormality.
I will always have my regrets, I will always have what ifs. My husband tells me as much as he wishes he did push me into seeing our tiny boy, he knows it would have broken me in to a billion more pieces and he would never have been able to get me back.
He questions why I frequently need to re-read his postmortum report. Because I have to see in black and white that I made the right decision.
He had major cardiac defects that came under the spectrum of HLHS. He also had other defects that alone were complicated but with the HLHS it made him more unique. He had left sided isomerism, which they say occurs in just 7-8% of all HLHS cases. He had problems with his bowels too.
He was just destined to be our precious tiny boy.
I've felt so much love today from friends, acquaintances, and strangers, yet my best friend, who was there when he was born, hasn't even acknowledged today.
None of our parents or siblings have either.
My husband tells me as long as we always do. That's what matters.
But it fucking hurts like hell.
