Monday, 15 October 2012

Down to earth with a bump (25) - In someone else’s hands

So here I am, unable to bond with my bump for most of its term and then holding my new baby in my arms for long enough to know that I don’t ever want her out of them again, when BANG! She’s taken away. I had only just got her. I was only just waking up to the feeling of wanting her.

Having my baby removed from me remains a blur. I was on such a high from having given birth that I went along with everything in a very surreal bubble; one that totally denied the seriousness of the situation.

I first heard her scream when the doctor tried to fit a cannula in to her tiny form. I didn’t like it at all and tears sprung to my eyes. Her veins were too delicate, and so tiny, the cannula wouldn’t go in. It couldn’t go in. Yet it had to be done. But the doctor couldn’t manage it, and it was left aside for another more senior paediatric doctor to insert. And when he did, she screamed some more.

That screaming only served to reinforce my fragile bond with her and as I wiped away the tears that fell, Simon held me and I him. We were both so helpless. And both so desperate to comfort our new baby. But as we were left standing together in the background, she was taken away to Special Care.

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