thejourney



		The Journey.... *By Lissa Marshall*
	This is a story about incredible heartache, loss, grief and pain, but also a new understanding of life and immense joy. All of these emotions and more I have felt this past year and I am going to attempt to tell you all about it. In June last year I was eagerly expecting my fourth child. A boy we had named Declan. This pregnancy was a surprise but not unwanted. I had only just had a baby when I found out that I had conceived again. My husband and I were planning to have more children...just not quite so soon. We figured that it was fate and that this baby was “meant to be”. We were happy and so were our other children. It was an uneventful pregnancy with no complications, however, I did have a terrible feeling of dread, that something wasn’t right. All my fears seemed unfounded though, as in every scan Declan appeared to be perfect. As I never go into labour myself I was booked for an induction at 42 weeks. I was keen to wait a reasonable time to see if Declan would come on his own and my Doctor wasn’t in a hurry to induce me any earlier. There really wasn’t a need for it as we all seemed to be doing well. He had organised for a CTG to be done and the tracing looked perfectly normal. On the Monday before the Wednesday of my planned induction I noticed that Declan was quiet. I was very busy that day, cooking supplies for the family while I was in hospital. Finally that afternoon I got a chance to lie down. I waited for movement but there wasn’t any. I pushed and prodded my stomach but there was no pushing and prodding back. I waited for my husband Craig to come home from work and then I went to the hospital. Driving there I was hoping that Declan would start kicking, that he was just being quiet, getting ready for his arrival into the world, but deep down I knew that he was gone. Several midwives tried to find Declan’s heartbeat but there just wasn’t one to find. I lay there feeling like this was happening to someone else, that it was all a bad dream. I lost all sense of time. I don’t know how long it was before my Doctor arrived. While he was organising for an ultrasound I called my husband who was at home with the kids. It took me a while before I could actually remember our phone number. -2- I called my Sister and my Mum and I still couldn’t believe what I was saying. That my baby had possibly died. These things don’t happen to me, they happen to other people!!! My husband arrived and we solemnly walked down to the rooms of the Ultrasound Technician. We then got to see our lifeless baby’s still heart, and that’s when any tiny bit of hope that we had that he was still alive was lost. That’s when my nightmare began. From that moment my life was to change and I would never again be the same person that I was. My first reaction was to ask for a Caesar. I just wanted him out. I wanted it to be over. My mind was racing with so many thoughts and feelings. I was angry with my doctor and the midwives for telling me to wait, to think about things, to slow down. The thought of going through a long labour with nothing to show for it horrified me. At that stage I had lost sight that Declan was still my baby, I didn’t want to see him, I didn’t want to hold him. I didn’t realise how precious that time and those memories with him would be. My biggest concern was how I was going to tell the kids. How was I going to tell them that Mummy wasn’t going to bring home their brother. That he had died. How were they going to understand? The next morning my husband, my Mum and I went to the hospital to be induced. It was a long day and all I could think about was going home to be with my children. I felt like a failure, that I had done something to cause this and it was all my fault. I felt like I had let everyone down. When my Doctor broke my waters he plucked out a long dark hair from Declan’s head and that’s when the realisation of what we had lost hit home for Craig and myself. My Doctor didn’t realise the symbolic gesture that he had just done. This process had taken place with all our other children. The waters broken, followed by the discovery that we were gong to have yet another beautiful baby with a mop of black hair. Every time we were always so overjoyed and this time we realised that there weren’t going to be any tears of joy in so many hours time, only a lot of tears of sadness. I don’t remember too much about the actual day, only that I asked for an epidural to make sure I didn’t feel any more pain than I had to. Someone dropped in a SANDS booklet for us to read. I just remember midwives asking me if I was feeling any pain and I could only answer “Only in my heart”. I lay there all day listening to other women’s cries -3- while in labour, followed by the cries of their new born babies. I knew Declan wasn’t going to cry. I wondered how I was going to survive this. Just after 7.00p.m. Declan Alexander McDonald Marshall arrived, silent but so beautiful. I wasn’t prepared for the amount of pain that I felt when I held my little angel and also how much love I had for him. I held him so close and just whispered to him “Breathe”, please “Breathe”. He was 10 pound 3 oz and almost 57c.m. long. He was so perfect, I couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. Earlier when I had been asked if I wanted Declan to stay in my room with me after he was born I had said No. Now I couldn’t imagine letting him go. We took lots of photos. Photos of him alone, with us and with family. These photos are so special. That night Declan stayed with me and I’m so glad I had that special time with him. I sang to him all the songs that I sing to my other children when they are upset and need comforting. I just stared at his beautiful face and the sadness I felt was overwhelming. In the morning one of the midwives brought in a book for me to look at. It was a special book filled with stories and dedications all from Mums and Dads for their special babies that had died. This was a good thing for me because at that time I was thinking that I was all alone, that I was the only one in the world to have this happen to. At lunchtime we left the hospital and we also left Declan behind. I wouldn’t see him again until the funeral. That was the next thing that we had to deal with. I had never organised a funeral let alone one for a baby, my baby son!! The hospital recommended Julie Pearce at Tobins so we agreed to have her call us to make the arrangements. Once at home things were terrible. My 5 year old twins were trying to grasp what had happened in their own way. My daughter was talking about it but seemed to just be talking too much. My son wouldn’t talk at all. My 1 year old was hysterical that I had left him at home for that time and was picking up all the emotions from me and the family. I felt so guilty, that it was my fault that my kids were suffering and it seemed that my family was falling apart. Julie came around to our house and we discussed the funeral plans. She was so helpful. As we had no idea what went on at a baby’s funeral she gave us all options to consider and let us decide what we felt would be best. -4- It seemed so surreal as we drove out to pick a cemetery for our son. This certainly wasn’t the way I had expected things to turn out. I was supposed to be doing night feeds and changing nappies. Not picking an eternal resting place. The day finally arrived when we were to say goodbye to the son we got to spend such a brief time with. I was torn because I wanted the chance to see Declan again but I also didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want to bury him. It would be so final. We had decided on an autopsy for Declan to try to help us understand what caused his death. I was anxious as to how he would look on the day of the funeral. They made him look very peaceful and had him placed in a bassinet, wearing the special outfit that my Mum had made for him with his name on it. I had requested that his special bear and bunny rug be put in with him and this had also been done. Sam and Rylee, my twins, got to see Declan for the first time that day and as upsetting as it was I was so proud of them. I had worried so much about how they would react but as children have no preconceived idea’s, they just took it in their stride. Rylee held Declan’s hand as people filed past to see him. She wasn’t seeing a dead baby, only her little baby brother. Julie encouraged the children to be involved in the process of placing Declan in the coffin and screwing on the lid. This was important to our children, they felt like they were helping in some way. They drew pictures for him and placed them in his coffin. It helped them say “goodbye”. Without Julie’s guidance we would have been lost and not known what direction to take with regards to the children and so many other issues. During the service we followed instructions from Julie and I watched the ceremony through a clouded mist of tears. I couldn’t stop looking at that little coffin knowing that he was in there. We decided on some special songs of our own to play at the funeral and we also had “Candle Lighting” and “Angel Dust” that others could participate in. On Julie’s suggestion I wrote a letter to Declan and had it read out during the service. I was so grateful for this opportunity to let everyone know how I felt through words. I also organised for some photos of Declan to be enlarged and put up at the entry of the Chapel so that everyone could see how beautiful my baby was and to help make him more real to those who didn’t get to see him in the hospital. At the Cemetery we had our final goodbye. We all had balloons to release and when everyone felt ready they let them go. We watched the sky turn from cloudy grey to a rainbow of colours as they drifted -5- off to heaven. It was the saddest day of my life but also one I will treasure as it was the most beautiful way I could show to everyone how much I loved my son and how special he was and always would be. So that was it. It was over. I was so scared that people would go home and forget about Declan. Every night I had trouble sleeping and when I finally did I would dream about him. I would wake up and touch my tummy, as I had done so many mornings before and realised that he was gone and I felt so empty. I felt like someone had shot a big hole in my stomach, reached in and ripped a big piece of my heart out and left me to die. I couldn’t believe that I could still be breathing and my heart could still be beating when I felt so much overwhelming sadness and pain. As the flowers people had sent started to die and had to be thrown out I felt that all evidence of Declan and the pain that his death had caused was disappearing. Life seemed to go on. Craig went back to work, the kids went back to kinder and I was stuck in my grief. I still had to cook dinner, do the washing, continue on living but I was just too tired. I felt constantly emotionally drained. The death of my baby made me realise just how precious my living children were and made me even more overprotective. I lived in fear as I sent them off to play that something would happen. That I would lose another and I couldn’t cope if that happened. Those first few weeks I spent clinging to my kids and my husband. The times on my own I would just sit in my rocking chair and study the photos of Declan. I would look at his feet, his hands, his ears. I wanted to know every part of him. As the time went on I felt so angry. I didn’t want to be living this way. I didn’t want to feel so sad. A couple of people in the hospital that I had spoken to who had lost babies told me “You will never get over this”. I didn’t want to be in this place forever. I wanted the “old me” back. Looking back I would never say that to anyone who has lost a baby. I would say, “you will never forget but you will learn to live again, even with that piece of your heart missing”. Over those first few months I learnt so much about people, about my friends, about strangers and their reactions when they learnt about my loss. It wasn’t bad enough that I was hurting so much because of Declan’s death but so many times people would say the wrong thing, not realising how devastating their comments were. At the kids kinder it was like I had a contagious disease. So many times I stood with the other Mum’s waiting to pick up the kids, only to be avoided and ignored. I wanted an opportunity to talk about Declan. I wanted -6- to brag about how big he was and how cute he was. I wanted someone to ask me how I was coping and have them really want to know the answer. I just wanted to be able to say his name and have them understand that when I cried it was OK. It was so surprising to find that people I least expected to understand were so supportive and yet some of my closest friends let me down when I needed them to be there for me. It was a confusing time. It was around 6 weeks after Declan’s death that I realised that I had to do something to help myself. I needed to reach out and find others to talk to. My family were all very supportive but I felt like I was going crazy and they just couldn’t understand the depth of my pain and how it was affecting my everyday life. I was getting angry with Craig because he seemed so free of all the grief and yet I was trapped. It was then that I remembered what Julie had said as we left the funeral. She said “It is important to remember that everyone grieves differently” she also said “be kind to each other”. I didn’t want this to ruin our marriage, I couldn’t bear to loose Craig as well. We talked about it and I decided that I would ring SANDS. I went to my first meeting and came back feeling completely washed out but so much better for it. I had cried constantly through the whole meeting, listening to the tragic stories of others as well as the telling of my own. It wasn’t just me that was feeling like this. Unfortunately there were many of us. I also spent many hours on the Internet looking for support group information and reading messages from people all around the world who were suffering too. Not only did I want to talk to others who could understand, but I was also searching for positive stories, of people who had tried again and had success with a subsequent pregnancy. I had decided that I wanted to have another baby as soon as I could. I had now developed quite a few friendships with women on the Internet and we all wrote to each other nearly every day. Some had recently lost a baby while for others it had been a couple of years. We were helping each other and it was like having therapy daily. This was so incredibly helpful. I was able to print out some of the letters and have my family read them so that they could also see that what I was going through was normal. I felt so different, almost liberated. I knew that this was good and that I was getting better. It wasn’t long before I found an acceptance of what had happened. A kind of peace about Declan. I had thought a lot about death and what happens when you die. I was happy with my belief’s and I felt that -7- Declan was always near me. I accepted that he couldn’t stay but that his birth and death was supposed to happen for a reason and that one day I would be able to see that reason. Already I knew that because of him I was a better person and that a lot of my relationships that I had been floundering in were now very solid and strong. Maybe this was Declan’s job. I know that he affected a lot of peoples lives and made them think about what was important. I set about to preserve and also create as many memories of Declan as I could. My father-in-law made me a beautiful handpainted box to put all of his special things in. I designed a locket and had a jeweller make it so that I could wear it always and have a photo of Declan close to me at all times. My Sister-in-laws gave me a glass candle holder/tray in memory of Declan and had it engraved with his name. A friend made a cross-stitch of a little dark haired baby, just like Declan and had it framed for me. At Christmas another friend made a tree decoration with his name on it. All of these things meant so much. I would always feel so happy if someone included his name with the rest of ours. I knew that no matter what, there was always going to be that feeling of being incomplete. There would always be that little someone missing in our family photos but at least doing all of these things kept him alive in some way. The people at SANDS made me realise that it was OK for me to include him in any way that made feel happy or at least at peace about it. I always write Declan’s name, in a heart in his number 4 spot amongst the rest of the kids names on any card I write. It wasn’t long before I found out that I was pregnant. My due date was Declan’s birthday. I took this as a good sign. I was nervous but I didn’t have that same feeling of dread that I had with Declan’s pregnancy. At the beginning it felt strange to be excited about another baby. It was almost like I wasn’t being true to Declan and his memory. I realised though that with all of my children I loved them the same and that I would certainly have enough love for Declan as well as my new baby. This was something positive to think about for all of us. I wanted to go back to the hospital and have a good experience, I wanted to go back to that same room and have a live baby. It was important for me to make things right. I wanted to be able to write in that special book at the hospital, that was filled with such sadness, that good things can happen too and to give others hope. I held on to all of these -8- positive thoughts, hopes and dreams throughout my whole pregnancy. I decided very early that no matter what happened I wasn’t going to distance myself from this baby, just to protect me from any more pain. I was going to make the most of every bit of time I had with him, whether it was for a lifetime or only 9 months, like I had with Declan. It wasn’t easy and there were moments of such stress that I thought I wouldn’t be able to make it through to the end and stay sane. My saviour was again the Internet. My friends in America decided to start up a group called “Hopeful Pregnancies”. There were quite a few of us that had now fallen pregnant and were looking for support through these turbulent emotional nine months. I couldn’t have done it without them and their understanding. Of course there were again those comments to deal with from unthinking and ignorant people. Ignorant in a good way because they had never had to deal with such a loss but even taking that into consideration it still didn’t hurt any less. Comments like, “don’t worry”.. “just relax”...it was like someone telling you not to breathe. Unfortunately a side effect of going to SANDS and being involved with groups on the Internet is that you start to suffer from “Support Group Syndrome”. You now know of 50 different ways your baby could die. My “it will never happen to me” philosophy no longer existed. Now that the kids had begun school I met some new Mums who didn’t know me when Declan had died. My pregnancy gave them a reason to start up a conversation. Of course the question of how many children I had always came up. I didn’t want to make them feel uncomfortable about mentioning Declan, as I knew it did for so many, but I also couldn’t allow myself to not include him. I would always say that I was having number 5 but my fourth child was in heaven. I then became the “women whose baby had died”. I wondered if by having Quinn I would then be “normal” in their eyes and talking to me would be easier for them. I was never resentful towards these people, because I’m sure I was once like them, before I had experienced my tragedy, but it did make me feel alienated and sometimes very alone. Early in the pregnancy we decided to name this baby Quinn. We name our babies early and use their name from that time on. I always take into account their meaning and we choose Irish names. Declan’s name meant “A Saint”, Quinn meant “Fifth and Wise child”. We thought that was pretty appropriate. -9- From 34 weeks I had to go to the Hospital for regular monitorings. That first trip to the hospital was emotional. I nervously walked out of the elevator onto the Midwifery floor. This was to be the first time since Declan’s death that I had been to the hospital. I was prepared for my reaction with tissues in hand. The smell, sounds and sights brought everything back from that year before. I couldn’t hold back the tears. Gradually each visit became less of a reminder of Declan and more of an excited anticipation of Quinn’s arrival. Deep down I felt that he would be OK but still I held my breath when they put the monitors on me, searching for that heartbeat. I had everything planned. My induction was to be on a very special day for my family, the 17th June, 2000. My fathers birthday. He had died only 7 months before. I had discussed it all with my Doctor who was very understanding. Every appointment I would go through the plan with him. I needed to know that I had control of certain things, even though there was still alot that would be unknown until the day. I was starting to get rather anxious. For me the longer Quinn was inside me meant the greater chance that something would happen. They never could give me a reason for why Declan had died. The kids were so excited and every day crossed off another date on the calender. This made me nervous. I didn’t want to let them down again. The pressure was starting to get to me and I just wanted it over. I would talk to Quinn and tell him to hang on for just a couple more days and then we would be able to cuddle him. Craig took me to the hospital on Friday afternoon. We rang the bell at delivery suite and a familiar voice answered. It was the midwife that had delivered Declan. This made me relax instantly. I knew she would understand how I was feeling. I asked if I could be in the same room that I had Declan in and she organised it. I really wanted to have a happy ending and facing my fears and that room was part of it. The doctor put in a double amount of the prostin gel hoping for me to go into labour by myself overnight. This of course didn’t happen as it takes a lot of intervention for me to go into labour. I didn’t sleep at all, even with a sleeping pill. In the morning they checked me again and decided that Quinn’s head was not quite low enough for the doctor to break my waters. One more application of gel and a lot of walking did the trick. For the next four hours I walked up and down the stairs in the hospital encouraging Quinn to get his head down. It worked as at 1.00p.m. the doctor came back and broke my waters and by 5.03p.m. Quinn made his arrival into the world. I really focused on Quinn during those four hours and it wasn’t as emotional as I had anticipated. -10- As he was only 38 weeks he still had quite a lot of vernix on him so therefore he was a funny white/grey sort of colour and initially he didn’t let out much of a cry, only a whimper. We all waited and finally he started to cry and then we all cried too. Craig was in shock. I have never seen him so nervous. He was practically frozen on the spot and it really took him days to realise that Quinn was here and that he was OK. The kids were ecstatic and couldn’t stop smiling. Either could I. He was a miracle and our little ray of sunshine. Declan’s birthday was twelve days after Quinn was born, the 29th June. From the moment I woke up that morning tears trickled down my cheeks and continued to do so all day. I wanted to cry and I wasn’t going to fight it. I felt so sad that we were robbed of the chance to see our beautiful Declan grow up. He would always be our angel instead of a one year old toddling around the house, getting into mischief. It really wasn’t fair. Now that I had Quinn it did help make things a little easier but he would never be able to erase the sorrow. I didn’t want that anyway. Declan was always going to be my special son and with his memory came so many feelings, happy and sad. As I stood on that hill in Declan’s Cemetery I realised how precious a new life is and how lucky we were to have all our children. They brought us so much joy. I had so many mixed emotions. The kids sang “Happy Birthday” to Declan and we let balloons go again, sending messages of love to him in heaven and watched as they danced across the sky and then finally disappeared. My first year was over and I had survived! So that is my story, a Journey of discovery. I discovered a pain that I thought I couldn’t live through with the birth and death of my child. I discovered that I had so much more love and understanding to give to my husband and children and to others. I also discovered a new strength and belief inside me that would help me continue to be able to live without Declan and possibly to help others too. Lissa Marshall.