Facing my fears

The title of this post may seem a bit exaggerated but due to the way I have been feeling these past few days, I deem it to be fit.

I swore I would never again trust the hospital that took Rebecca’s life. Never again would I place one of my children’s lives into someone else’s care. I’ve been so angry.

But Saturday 26th September I found myself in a very scary predicament. My elder daughter needed medical assistance, I believed it to be serious.

As I drove to the same hospital in a panic, disturbing memories of my last panic drive to hospital filled my head. I was so scared. Scared of my daughters condition and scared to enter this hospital again.

My daughter has since been admitted into hospital and I must say the doctors and nurses have done an amazing job, after worrying speculations of meningitis, a diagnosis of pneumonia was ascertained, my daughter is now regaining her health.

What I have regained goes deeper then health.

Walking into any hospital is a risk to me now, risk of the unknown and risk of seeing lots of bumps and babies. This particular hospital has been so difficult to enter, relying on another doctor here has been even more difficult. To makw matters worse, ironically the Childrens Ward is located on the same floor as Maternity Services – so balloons, bumps and babies are everywhere. As I travelled from my daughters ward to x-ray I passed their Delivery Suite. I found myself just staring at the door to the Delivery Suite. My head was divided; a sheer gut-wrenching pain of the memories of the last time I entered that door, the last time I walked out of that door and the horrific moments inbetween. Another half was that of wishful thinking, a fantasy that I was still one of these unsuspecting mothers again, the mothers who enter that door with an excited knot in their stomachs, the hospital bag that has been on stand-by can now be used and the baby that has been grown can soon be heard and held. A fantasy fills my head that I am still one of those unsuspecting mothers who walk out of that door with a baby in a car seat, one who takes their baby home.

Whilst my elder daughter sleeps I cry here for Rebecca. Flash backs and memories keep me awake.

I cry for my elder daughter, who thankfully is recovering, but the fear of losing another child was just too much. I’m emotionally drained.

Nearly 7 months later, I am here again, regaining some of the trust I lost.

The fears that I have will never go away, these past few days and nights don’t repair any damage that was caused by Rebecca’s death. These past few days and nights have just been another hurdle in my new life. I have faced a fear.

I cry here for my daughter who has been helped. But I also cry for my daughter who wasn’t.

Heaven seems so far away

I miss you so much Rebecca, you would now be 6 months old. Smiling at me with your bright beautiful eyes, holding your arms out to me to hold you close.

The pain in my heart still screams out so loud inside my body for you.

Six months have passed, does not seem long for most, but for me; a lifetime. The world has carried on without me. The flowers died long ago, the cards have been gently placed inside a box, inside your draw, inside your bedroom. The messages of condolences have stopped. The hugs and gentle looks have slowly dimised.

Life has carried on, but I am still here. Grieving.

I am still here grieving but I am still here.

Life is pushing me forward, the sun shines, a smile has been returning to my face, I can sing along to music again – to your music. You have given me the strength to return to back to work this week, to my office, to fimilar faces who watched you grow. Memories are painful, but for some reason I feel so close to you there.

Six months have passed since you changed my life, my heart breaks and aches each day for you. I will forever long to hold you once more. But I know you are still here, helping me – guiding me through my new life. You’ll always be here. You’re never far away.

I love you,

x Mummy x

Just one little peek into heaven, 
Is all I’m asking for today. 
I just want to know how she’s doing, 
As heaven seems so far away. 

Is she playing on the clouds with angels? 
Is she laughing and running today? 
Does she miss me? 
I guess only she knows. 

Oh why does heaven seem so far away? 
If you just let me look for a moment, 
To catch a glimpse of her sweet smiling face, 
I promise I won’t try to take her, 
For I know she’s in a better place. 

Just one little peek into heaven, 
Is all I’m asking for today. 
I just want to know how she’s doing, 
As heaven seems so far away…

http://www.justgiving.com/justiceforrebeccaflorence

https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/104329