This post was meant to be written a couple of hours ago. It is friday’s post. I had a visit to the hospital again and sat all day waiting on results that just confirmed what I already knew on Tuesday. Why does the medical profession complicate things. I thought I did well. I managed to get to the hospital and on the bus home without getting upset. I dived into my work to pick up a film and saw my friend who tried to be supportive but I was just managing to hold myself together. This show of kindness was too much for me and I left out the back door a sobbing mess.
I had a rest when I got home lying in my bed with the quilt up to my ears with some music blaring. I felt good just having the comfort of being somewhere familiar on my own and with some warmth around me. In the absence of a proper hug my quilt is the best thing I had. The kids were with their dad for the morning so I made the best of this alone time by lying in my bed. I think the only thing that has kept me sane all week is the music I have in my head and in my heart.
I got the call around about four o’clock from the hospital with my results and I thought I had prepared myself for the news, I knew in my head what she was going to say but hearing her say the words was another thing altogether. The lady was very nice and sympathetic on the phone but I had this desperate feeling that I really did not want to be listening to her voice anymore. I heard this huge sob come from nowhere and realised it was me. There was just something final about it all. I knew I had lost the baby but hearing someone say the words just cracked me up.
I don’t think I have ever cried so much in my life. I had no idea I had that much tears. I will be fine, I have seven great reasons to be fine but I think I have needed this week to come to terms with it all. I know those people that are there for me and always will be. I do think these things usually happen for a reason and it is maybe a wake up call that I need. I have many things to do. I have plans to put in motion. My granddaughter came to visit me and her lovely wee smile and hugs works wonders.
I have had a visit from my brother. The one I used to be so close with but sort of drifted apart over the years and we have had a great time. He has run around the house all night with a gaggle of weans after him. Play fighting with Morgan who pulls the funniest slow-motion faces I have ever seen. My wee honey of a granddaughter was over the moon watching ‘the man’ run around after them. The kids are all sleeping now but I thought they would never tire. I am drooping a bit myself now. The trauma of the week is hopefully over but my body is ready to sleep.
My brother has just put on his glasses to read a book and in a flash he has turned into my dad. The glasses sit perched low on his nose like my dad’s did and he even moves them when he turns to talk to you and puts them down like my dad did. I can’t help looking at him. It is weird. All that is missing is the mad messy hair, the big eyebrows and a newspaper. It is both fascinating, upsetting and wonderful all at the same time.
What a bizarre day.