by Bethan Boothby
Tuesday 7th December 2010 was our 20-week-scan. Our 7-year-old daughter was so excited to come with us; she had waited years for this moment.
We all sat excitedly in the room, waiting to see that tiny heartbeat and then silence.
No sound, no movement, just the most deafening silence ever. Another lady was called into the room and my daughter was taken out. Your life changes immediately. I thought about what I had done recently that could have caused it. Should I have pushed that heavy trolley and played tag with my daughter? Sadness, anger, guilt, confusion, hate; they all come at you at once and no sense can be made of it.
I carried our dead baby for two more days, not wanting to look at my tummy or let my partner touch me. He didn't know what to do and neither did I. We just had to be there for each other and our daughter.
We went through a 6 hour labour and delivered our baby boy Luke, (our daughter chose the name) on the 9th December. Our longed for child had been born. Yet as we walked home that night, we couldn't take him with us.
He would never sleep in the Moses basket, play in his room and never call me 'mummy'. Our daughter slept badly for months, falling asleep with us many nights. We tried to explain things to her that, yes, sometimes it happens and we don't know why. But she didn’t understand, people younger than her weren't meant to die.
We didn't want to know what had happened, he was perfect when he was born and the thought of his tiny body being cut apart was unbearable.
We mourned, held a funeral, bought a tree that flowered in December and went back to work. I broke down in the office on my first day back and was signed off for another three months.
My counselling helped immensely; talking to someone who has no emotional ties to our family was exactly what I needed. We will never know the exact affect this has had on our daughter. We still miss him and I just hope that when the day comes for her to think about starting a family, that our experience doesn't stop her.
We were blessed with our rainbow baby, a little girl in May 2012 and she has filed our hearts with joy.
We will always wonder how he would have looked, what he would have been good at, what he would have been bad at and what type of man he would have become. You do move on and things do get better, but you never forget the pain or the sadness.
Please note that the opinions expressed by users in Tommy’s Book of #misCOURAGE are solely those of the user, who is unlikely to have had medical training. These opinions do not represent the opinions of Tommy’s and are not advice from Tommy's. Reading individual, real-life experiences can be a helpful resource, but it is never a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment from a qualified health care provider. We strongly advise readers not to take drugs that are not prescribed by your qualified healthcare provider. If you think you may have a medical emergency, call your doctor, midwife or hospital immediately. Read full disclaimer