Where do you go from here? (edited)

Twenty years old and more completely out of step with everyone I knew than you could imagine. What few friends we had still had no idea how to deal with the tragedy in our lives. Some simply said nothing, others disappeared. People have little ability to cope with death especially when the death is that of a child. We were left with no formal support - the hospital pretty much just said "Goodbye, we're sorry". There were no services dealing with this type of thing, Bonnie babes was established but dealt with babies (still births, SIDS deaths and the like), there was another group but they were focused on teen and young adult deaths. For the families of young children there was nothing that we could find. DH(my husband) retreated into his pain and
grief, saying nothing. We organized a funeral and cremation for our son. Again we were on our own dealing with this. We got no advice from anyone, no counselling and so we muddled through as best we could... Small things helped. S, my youngest sister, stayed several nights a week with us because of the logistics of school and after school activities. Not long before JC's accident she had broken one of my mugs and she had chosen one to replace it with. S was 10 and bought this mug with her own money, gifting it to me at JC's funeral. I still have it and each time I use it my mind is filled with memories of my son and of my sister and I treasure it for these reasons.

I had many days when I got angry even just at the sun for shining. Didn't the world realize that my son had died? How could everything be so normal and commonplace when my world was destroyed? I also had many days when I was glad that I'd had the chance to be a mother to JC and through it all I was determined that I wasn't going to lose my marriage as well. I worked very hard at keeping my marriage together when statistically we had so little chance of it working. We were both very young and we had lost our son. Very poor odds for succeeding indeed.

Grieving :

It took him five years before DH could say our son's name and many more before it was without anguish while I sought people who were prepared to listen to me talk non-stop. They were few and far between as it was just too much for most to deal with. Then DH was asked to resign from his job. The deaths of his grandmother in October and then our son in January were simply too much for him and he was not able to cope with the workload. The company wasn't being heartless - they had a business to run and they gave all the opportunities they could for DH to get it back together but it was time DH moved to something less demanding while he grieved. To make things worse I realized I was pregnant again.

I was in no fit state to be parenting a child; I could barely function each day. I contemplated an abortion but eventually decided that I would accept whatever happened. I had not told anyone, including DH, I was pregnant. The first anyone knew was when I lost the baby just under 12 weeks. It was awful - I was in part pleased because I no longer had to worry if I would cope and I was devastated at the loss of another baby. My doctor suggested I not attempt another pregnancy for at least three years in order for me to get some emotional strength back as well as the physical recuperation. So for the next few years we quietly went on, dealing with our grief in our own separate ways. I went through a period where I got very upset seeing pregnant women, if I wasn't supposed to get pregnant how come they had permission? Irrational, self pitying most likely but also, I suspect, well within normal behaviour. I got over it in time.

Eventually after 5 years or so we decided we could try for another baby. I got pregnant fairly quickly but lost that baby at around 9 weeks. Another two misses followed over the next few months. My doctor had the plan that if I were to get to 12 weeks successfully he would insert a cervical suture to assist me in carrying the pregnancy to, hopefully, term. Then once the suture was in place they had some other treatments they planned to try that might help us. Finally I got past 12 weeks with one and the stitch was duly put in. I gave up work at around 6 month’s gestation. My Doctor was still hoping for full term but I was expecting an early birth. One of my sisters was also pregnant - due around a week before I was. Around Christmas I started feeling very unwell and was experiencing severe discomfort. I found I couldn't walk far nor could I sleep if DH was in the bed with me so I would spend every night reading in a chair, going to bed when DH got up for work, then I'd sleep for a few hours before the discomfort woke me again. I recall trying to go for a walk to the park about 100 meters from our home - I couldn't make it. In mid January I had a visit with my doctor and he became very concerned. I was hospitalized immediately and they did all sorts of tests over the next 24 hours. An emergency c-section was decreed necessary and scheduled for the morning of the 18th. I spent that night scared and crying. I knew my child was unlikely to survive even though we were at 32 weeks. DH was not permitted to be in the theatre because of the emergency status however he was to be allowed to see our baby ASAP and go to NICU with them. So our baby was born - another son. He weighed 510 grams and was pink and healthy looking at birth DH tells me. I slowly came out of the anaesthetic to be told I had a son. As I drifted in and out of consciousness I realized DH was there. I looked at him and said "He's dead isn't he?" Our son struggled for two hours for life but in the end he was simply too small and lacked the strength to live. Sadly I never had the opportunity to see my son while he lived but I loved him still.

I spent several days in the hospital recovering from the c-section and my initial grief. The hospital provided pastoral care and were wonderful about allowing us to see our son as often as we wished. I strongly encouraged my family to see their nephew. In seeing my son they got the opportunity to grieve and heal. I have photographs of my son being held my all of his family and the clothing he was dressed in my the hospital. It is all we have of him and I am glad to have them.

One of my sisters was due to have her baby at around the same time my son had been due. My newest nephews birth saved me. I spent so many hours holding him, loving him. He filled the void left by my children's deaths. My sister seemed to have some difficulty in her relationship with her son, I cannot say why but it was fortunate that I needed him and I was there when his mother was unable to deal with him. Serendipity at work :)

About six months after my sons death DH was transferred with his employment to a regional town. I was upset at the idea of leaving my nephew but it was a good move for me. Another of my sisters was pregnant and gave birth to her son a few months after we moved. Early the next year another sister fell pregnant. Babies were everywhere in my family. I fell pregnant several more times with all my pregnancies ending in a miscarriage by 10 weeks. In 1994 or early 1995 I saw an ad in a newspaper calling for "expressions of interest" from DHS for the adoption program. I mentioned it to DH not expecting a positive response but he agreed to put in a letter. One small newspaper ad started the next phase of our lives. It would be long and anything but smooth but it was all we had.