Today is Father's Day...

Andrew shared this with me....it was strange as I have been writing a post about the same thing and was just trying to find the courage and the right moment to post it. It makes me sad to read and yet, glad that it is a shared experience and that he cares and loves so deeply. I love you Andrew x

Today I woke up sad and a little reflective. We are reaching the moment where we'd be welcoming our little one into this world but it wasn't to be.  As Amelia brought her little cut out drawing to me along with a big kiss I couldn't help but think of what might have been - the first steps, the birthdays, the life events and yes, the Fathers Day's.

After a very difficult pregnancy with Amelia it took a couple of years of convincing and cajoling to finally get Victoria to take the plunge and that leap of faith to have another.  

Victoria was past the morning sickness and we seemed to be on the homeward stretch.  We'd even had an in depth scan from the geneticist were things literally came to life for me.  The reassuring cadence of the heart beat, the tiny little features and yes a little O'Hare stubbornness where baby failed to comply with the Sonographer - that's my baby I thought! We were told that our baby was a little girl and was fine and healthy.

About 5 months into the pregnancy I was at the office and I got a text message from Victoria, "I'm at the Doctor's office, he can't hear a heartbeat. Waiting to have an ultrasound". About a half hour later Victoria called and I answered and I could hear nothing, only sobbing.  I said something to the effect, "is the baby gone"? The answer unfortunately was a heartbreaking, "yes". Life went into slow motion and I got out of the office as fast as possible.

The next two days were difficult. I'd never really understood the grief displayed by others who had the misfortune of a miscarriage. Thoughts akin to, "why can't they just go ahead and have another?" or "why are they so upset?" were prevalent in my mind. How ill informed and insensitive I was to have had these thoughts.

There was no guide book for this but I knew at one point when feelings were a little less tender that I would need to give the fathers perspective on this, as the grief was real and painful.

As soon as I arrived back from the office I just held Victoria and we both shared many tears and not many words. There was the, "now what" and the disbelief and a few questions but the reality is that we went out and shopped for Victoria's Scout Court of Honor that afternoon, in some kind of need to keep hold of the 'normal' and waited to hear from the doctor on when we would go in to have baby removed.  With it being a Thursday we did not want to go through the weekend without the operation. Thankfully, Victoria was scheduled the next morning so we went home to wait for the children to come home from school to deliver the news.

By the this time my brother and friends were aware of the situation and wanted to help, bring meals and generally send their love to our family. My initial feeling was one of wanting to be alone and not have our mutual emotions out there for others to view. My advice now: open your door and your hearts to all that people have to offer, it is truly amazing to experience. I coined a term, "the first responders" for those sweet ladies, who in those painful early hours prepared their best meals and braved the raw emotion to give my sweet wife a long hug and a warm meal. It was a little slice of heaven where good people were, 'comforting those that mourn'. The flowers, the knocks on the door and the meals continued. They were a metaphorical, "keep going, it's going to be okay, you are loved".

We delivered the news to our children and more tears were shed. Our little Abbie, who had been so excited to play mom was so sad and let out her sadness with a very audible burst of emotion.  Amelia who had prepared lists upon lists of possible names was a little more pragmatic and Daniel and Jordan didn't quite know what to say, so hugs sufficed.

That night we prepared for the operation the next morning and went to bed pretty early. I had a very fretful nights sleep and at one point in the small hours of the morning my sleep gave way to the reality of the moment. So many thoughts went rushing through my mind.  What happens to our babies body, how is this little one to be remembered if we have nothing tangible after all these months?  The hopes, the dreams, the morning sickness, the reassurances, the cravings, the convincing, the excitement, the anticipation for what had fast become my literal daughter, gone. Nothing, not even a name.  In those moments Victoria awoke too and I expressed my sadness that we hadn't even decided on a name. Almost every name we had talked about (and actually agreed on) had been some version of Anna. I said I liked the name Anna and asked if she did too. And so baby became Anna.  I wanted to somehow be close to my baby so I laid my head on Victoria's stomach for what must have been a few minutes and had a special moment. I then kissed her stomach said my goodbyes and in that instant knew I had to get my emotions in check to be strong for Victoria. So that's what I did and haven't really dwelled on things much until this moment, writing this this, and it still hurts!

The procedure went as expected and Victoria made a full recovery.  

I just wanted to write for the other Dads out there - it's difficult but you will get through it.  It is hard to be a spectator and watch the one you love go through so much pain while still needing to remain strong for her and at the same time dealing with your grief. It’s difficult.

Time, friends, family, faith and getting on with life made things much better for us. Things are pretty much back to normal for me - I've just been reticent to peel the onion so to speak in the hopes of being strong for Victoria and have avoided some situations in order to not dwell on things. In those quiet moments thoughts undoubtedly percolate causing pause for reflection and “what ifs” but that is fine.  Our faith teaches of brighter tomorrows and that we will be reunited with our loved ones in the afterlife.  I pray that this is in fact the case.

One day little one, one day!  

Andrew