Week 35

Ah, respite. I have never felt so safe. I had a room to myself, a bed to myself and a bathroom to myself. Better than at home...
My meals were brought to me, my sheets were changed daily and I had the CTG machine on demand. My biggest responsibility was winning Solitaire on my iPhone.
I had few visitors, because I hadnt made it public that I was in hospital. Kelvin didnt even visit, because he had broken out in a rash. He wasnt sick, he had no fever, but just this non descript rash all over his body. Out of responsibility to the other newborns (I was in the maternity ward...not as harsh as it sounds...I only saw one baby the entire time) I told him to stay away. I revelled in the solitude. I missed Jack but I loved being alone. I loved having no responsibilities and running by my own schedule. I showered at odd times, slept at odd times and had the CTG at odd times...once at 4am. The midwives were beautiful and sympathetic. I had all day to lie there and do kick counts. And if movements werent up to scratch, the CTG was right outside my door.
The Boss returned from holidays and rang me. Now, this was the man, who, at the beginning of the pregnancy, said I could do whatever I needed to feel safe. Ring anytime, visit anytime, come to hospital if I need to. Well, he must have forgotten these promises, because he decided it was appropriate to question why I had been admitted. I wonder whether his ego was bruised that I had pursued different avenues for reassurance. I had gradually stopped relying on him for care, as he seemed irritable and unapproachable whenever I rang or visited. This, of course, could have been my own perception, and perhaps I was oversensitive. But the day he told me my anxiety was "abnormal" was the day I stopped putting my emotional trust in him. Since when was grief and anxiety part of a formula? What was "normal" in response to grief and trauma? I was clearly suffering from PTSD, based on a book that a hospital psychiatrist had given me. These symptoms, from Anxiety Australia, explain exactly what my day to day life was consumed by:

Intrusive Symptoms:

• Distressing thoughts or images (recurring images of Sybella, dead in my arms, or in her coffin.)
• Nightmares about the event (nightly.)
• Feeling or acting as if the traumatic event were recurring (whenever the baby had a sleep, I was sure that he had died. I also "remembered" Sybella's last movements, and kept thinking that the baby's movements were the same, and therefore the last ones, too.)
• Intense psychological distress when exposed to something that triggers memories of the traumatic event (I panicked when I drove past the funeral home that cared for Sybella. I cried every time I walked into the hospital, because the smell reminded me of her birth. I burst into tears in David Jones while shopping for baby clothes for Rainbow Baby.)
• Physical symptoms such as sweating, muscle tension and rapid heartbeat when exposed to things that trigger memories of the traumatic event (as simple as seeing the same model of pram that we had for Sybella.)

 Avoidance Symptoms

• Avoiding people, places and activities that trigger memories of the traumatic event (I wouldnt take Jack to the library, as much as he begged, because we went to the library on the day Sybella died. I wouldnt eat at restaurants that I ate at while pregnant with Sybella.)
• Losing interest in, and enjoyment of e.g. leisure activities, study, work or stop participating in such activities altogether (I enjoyed nothing. All I did was rush around, doing my chores in minimum time, so I could lie down and kick count, or visit the hospital.)
• Feeling detached from other people (I stopped answering the phone, returning texts, emails or facebook messages. I was constantly irritable with people that I normally got on well with.)
• Not be able to see a future for themselves, they don't expect to get married, have a family , live a long time (I had absolutely no faith or confidence that Rainbow Baby would emerge from my body alive. A live baby was a completely foreign and surreal concept.)

 Physical Arousal Symptoms:

• Sleep disturbance (I slept for 3 hours each night, and that sleep was fitful.)
• Irritability or anger (constantly.)
• Impaired concentration (I havent read a book in months. I can watch a movie for ten minutes. I finish half a job and wander off to do something else.)
• Being always on the alert for signs of danger (hypervigilant about movement. It consumed my day and night.)
• Being easily startled (I jumped at Kelvins's sneezes. My heart pounded at the sound of an ambulance siren.)

How can you tell a PTSD sufferer that her response to stillbirth and a subsequent pregnancy is "abnormal"? Apparently, I "behaved worse" than other women in my position. I was "extreme". So wouldnt that indicate a duty of care to ensure that I was okay, rather than judging me for what I was expressing? There were so many variables as to how women behaved in the same situation. How did their baby die? Was the cause known? Did she suffer from pre existing anxiety? How long between pregnancies? Did she have other kids?
I felt like asking him how many of his children's ashes did he have sitting on his mantelpiece? How many times had he pushed out a perfect, beautiful little baby girl who never opened her eyes? Did he feel lucky that he got to age 46 without planning a funeral for his daughter? Because I was 29 when I had to do it. And Jack was 4 when he attended the funeral of his sister.

But I digress. And I rant. But I make no apologies.. I am doing what I have to do just to get by day by day. My four days in hospital were a blur of true peace and comfort. I think I will be returning for more respite prior to the birth.

See Baby This Week