Today marks a momentous event. A bill has been introduced to provide parents with a certificate when their baby has died, regardless if the loss was before or after 20 weeks. I cannot even begin to tell you how thrilled I am to hear this. Such a positive step towards breaking the taboo of babyloss. On a personal level, this has helped me with my quest for bringing hope to the future of myself , my boys, and my long suffering partner.
This morning, when I woke, I had the usual pang and pull which has become second nature to me these days. What will I be confronted with today? How is my anxiety going to present itself today? Will I have a day full of tears, or just the usual eye stinging, throat tightening feeling that takes hold at any given opportunity? Yesterday was a particularly bad day, and this morning was no different.
I spend my entire train journey in mental turmoil, wondering if I had done the right thing last night in ‘being kind to myself’ by choosing to avoid an event that will no doubt be tremendously painful. Something I hear time and time again; “You must be kind to yourself, Molly”.
But, as I was meandering along London Bridge, I suddenly thought, how am I going to fight this if I keep “being kind to myself”? Am I being kind to myself by avoiding the pain? What if I confront it head on? After all, only last week, when I thought my dream was coming true I was absolutely fine when met with my usual triggers. And boy was I met with those triggers… Two newborns and a pregnancy in front of me, completely unexpected. On any other day, I’d have crumbled into a thousand bits but this time I had no anxiety whatsoever. I was excited and felt compelled to hold those babies with a huge smile on my face, because I had this beautiful feeling that it would be us soon. All it took was the realisation that my dream was coming true, to know that I would hold our baby in my arms at long last, to completely wipe that pain away.
If the switch can be flicked by such hope, then why can’t I control the switch myself? Now that my dream has disappeared again, why can’t I make that flick myself? I decided that being kind to myself isn’t about avoiding pain, it is about my future and the future of all the people I love. It is about having to live with myself and grow into the new Molly.
I realised I need to face the pain head on. Fight the bullies, not run from them. I’ve looked out at so many people recently who have been through equally immense trauma and tragedy, loss of parents, marriage break ups, terminal illness, and I don’t see them running and hiding. They are confronting their pain head on, and I need to do the same. I need to do it for me, for my beautiful family, and for my little girl.
Would Emily want to see her mummy wither away and lose all the people she loves? Or would she want her mummy to fight?
Today, my darling girl, I am going to fight.