Going back to where it all happened…

Post 53 of 66
Going back to where it all happened…

I went to my OB yesterday evening for what should have been a routine checkup, and as it turns out, I had to go in a for a small surgery. There were still small pieces of the placenta in there and they had to be surgically removed. They had to do what they call a curettage. The sooner the better… So we arranged that I could go in today.┬áTiming wasn’t right. Actually it was quite wrong. Frank had planned to stay at home today, because he had so much urgent paperwork to do, and he wasn’t feeling too good either.

I told him that it was ok, that I could do it alone, that he could stay at home. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. I can do this, I can go to the hospital where I lost her and I can do this all by myself. He said: “No way”. But he had so much stuff to do, important stuff, and he didn’t feel well… What to do? I asked my mom if she could come along, and like always, she was there for me, only, she had a doctor’s appointment at 1PM that she couldn’t reschedule. “If your mom can’t be there with you the entire time, then I will go with you, no discussion”, he said. And so he did. I couldn’t have been more grateful.

Just arriving at the hospital I felt as if something grabbed me by the throat. The anxiety. The fear. The sadness. I felt the raw feelings of loss coming back all over again. That parking lot. That elevator. Somehow, they were renovating the hospital door, so it was inaccessible. We had to take another door. I felt so relieved I didn’t have to go through that door… I remember standing there for 10 minutes with my mother, waiting for Frank to come and pick us up when they diagnosed our little girl, when they told us we were going to lose her… We went in, and got a room. Thankfully, it wasn’t even nearby the maternity department. I tried to keep it together, and on the outside I did. On the inside though, I was completely broken.

I hadn’t slept much the night before, and the exhaustion made me fell asleep. I kept waking up during a few seconds every half an hour or so, just to make sure he was still with me. I cannot even begin to explain how much his presence means to me, every single day. I am so incredibly blessed to have such an understanding and loving husband, I couldn’t love him more. They took me away around noon, and I got back around an hour later I think. He wasn’t there. There comes the anxiety again. ┬áBut there was this nice lady in the room when I got in. The mother of my neighbour that was still in the OR. Her sweet voice told me that Frank told her he’d be back in a minute, that he just went for a cigarette. I felt better. I was fighting the narcose trying not to fall asleep as he came back in. Just knowing he was there I felt I coud breathe again. I blacked out and gave into the narcose.

Thank you sweetie for never leaving my side. Thank you for understanding how difficult this was for me, even when I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Thank you for always being there. Thank you for walking this path with me every step of the way. I wouldn’t get through it without you. I love you.

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