Memoirs of a biker widow (9)

Julia Day-Stewart - 23 Apr 18

Tears

I find myself sobbing again. It’s dark in my bedroom and there is a distant hum of traffic. The children have gone to bed and are long asleep, I sob quietly so I don’t wake them.
I try very hard to not cry in front of them all the time, it sets them off and we all end up in an almost uncontrollable flood. It hurts, physically hurts. Maybe y chest aches and I feel so guilty for our baby, i hope she can’t feel this but she must be able to.
I’m letting her down and she’s not growing. I was told today that she would have to be delivered early as my body wasn’t providing a stable environment for her.
What a failure I feel. My blood pressure is sky high, I’m damaging our baby with my grief. Oh Rob. She’s all I have left of you.
The responsibility I feel to keep her safe is unreal, I’m due to go back to the hospital next week to be induced, she will be premature and tiny. My heart breaks for her and I sob quietly.

I’ve heard people say before that they’ve cried so many tears, there are no tears left. Well that’s just rubbish. The tears are never ending, they flow freely. Just when you think there can’t possibly be any more, they start again.
I’ve never experienced anything like it. I wince with the aching feeling, it physically hurts how much I miss him. I let out an involuntary whine followed by more tears. When will this feeling ever end.
I just feel so sad.

With the delivery of our baby approaching, came the utter dismay and reality that Rob wasn’t going to be here for it. His first born baby. He’d been so excited to become a father, and teased me constantly that he’d created a huge 10lb baby that’d I’d have to push out.
He had been to most scans, in the early days we’d had the shock of discovering we were expecting twins and so there were many appointments. He got to see the twins growing on several occasions until around 13 weeks when the smaller Twin ‘perished’. He was upset, he’d loved the thought of having two babies and had sat up many nights in bed researching about double buggies and ‘Twinny’ things.

The remaining baby had continued to grow well and the day came when we were told she was a girl, Rob was ecstatic. Of course he knew all along he’d get a daughter and he named her Luna. I still have no idea where he got the name from, possibly the Harry Potter films. Who knows but I loved it.

She’s all I had left of him and it broke my heart. I was going to meet her soon and he never would.
She wasn’t even born yet and she had no daddy. The overwhelming sadness about an event that should be so happy, was just suffocating.
She was coming too early and was too small.
I knew her birth would be difficult. For a while I’d decided to do it all on my own but then common sense prevailed and I asked my good friend to be there. The one I’d phoned that day when the lovely policeman had knocked on my door.
Seeming fitting really, she’d been there when we’d met, when he’d died and now when his baby girl was being born. I know he’d have been happy that she was there too.

I didn’t sleep the night before I had to be induced. I just lay in bed listening to the traffic in the distance.
I cried on and off. Wondering if Rob was out there somewhere watching me. I talked to him, swore at him and cried again.
Our poor baby. It’s not her fault and yet she was suffering. Why is life so cruel.

I took the children to school that morning before going to Hospital. I remember looking at their excited little faces and feeling so proud of them. They were my strength and I needed them as much as they needed me.

More tears as we drove to Hospital. This day was going to be a long and emotional one that I hadn’t prepared for.
But I was going to meet our baby.
And have that last part of Rob that I’d cherish forever.
The bitter sweet.

Julia Day-Stewart

Mum of three. Widow at 35years of age. Mother, Nurse, Realist. Broken but surviving. Lost and drowning but floating in the light of the moon. Amazed by the power of love and the strength of human compassion. I am no writer, I barely scraped past my gcses. So excuse the appalling grammar. I lost my soul mate in 2017 whilst pregnant with his first child (now aged 7 Months). One moment, one poor decision and so many lives destroyed. I decided to start a blog. Firstly to empty my head and help with my own PTSD and secondly to try and help others. Grief can be very lonely and physically destructive.

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