To be honest, I wasn't 100% sure about whether to post this or not but it's good to talk. I feel that sometimes its easier to put things down on paper/pc rather than talk as you can express yourself a bit more with blubbering away.
Last year was shit. It really was. Shit. Yes, some good things happened and some great things happened, but personally it was shit.
To start with my job was made, how shall I say while trying to be PC and avoid the lawyers, 'redundant'. The company decided that the role I occupied was no longer required. The decision, I found out later, was made in January but instead of letting me know they took away, bit by bit, by job - handing it out to others. Then in early July I had a call, after sending another email asking for an explanation, stating my job was gone and they made me an offer I couldn't accept. How can you trust a company that does that? I had to move on.
One settlement later and I was a hobo. Being a hobo is cool but I'll talk about that another time. However being a hobo turned out to be a godsend for what happened then.
For the August bank holiday weekend in '07, my wife, two friends and myself went on the Shannon for the weekend. It was great. What made it even better was the fact the before we went we done the necessary tests and confirmed that we were gonna be parents. As excited as we were, we couldn't tell anyone and had a ball of a weekend.
Arriving back in Cork, my wife went to the docs on the Wednesday and confirmed that all was OK and we were indeed going to have an ickle one. That week, we had a call from my little bro to advise that he and his good lady were also pregnant. When we worked out dates, they would be having the baby a week before us in March. Over the next week or so family and friends were told to share in our joy.
Two weeks later things went pear shaped.
On a lovely Monday night, we sat in bed looking at a baby-names book my brother had bought as a joke the previous Christmas. Some names in it I wondered about as in how someone could call their child that. But each to their own. The next day my wife said something wasn't right and she went to the docs. I had an appointment and she wasn't worried enough to require me to go with her. Then I got a call and I rushed to collect her and bring her to Cork University Hospital for further tests. At 4pm our worst fears were realised and it was confirmed we had lost the baby. The scan showed nothing.
And I don't think anything can prepare you for that. Our families and friends knew we were expecting and so calls had to be made. That was tough.
We had to go back in on the Wednesday for the necessary tests and my wife was in until Saturday morning. It was a long few days. I cant praise highly enough the staff in the hospital who were brilliant to us and looked after us well. Although they see this type of thing every day the compassion and help they showed was like your the only one going through it. Also sitting in the hospital each day, sometimes not with my wife as she was resting, and seeing others who had just given birth, or were about to was tough. It was tougher for the fact that we met a couple we know and they had just had a lovely baby boy - and you cant dampen their spirits as you have no right to. Its still hard to smile though.
The next week was no easier. Luckily being a hobo meant I could spend time with my wife making sure she was OK. You lie there thinking about it. Thinking about what might have been. A boy? A girl? Do you care - no! How many other couples go through this? We know a few and they had children afterwards no worries. Statistics say that nearly half of all first pregnancies end in miscarriages but statistics have no feelings and are only bare figures - and it doesn't make it easier. Slowly the realisation comes in that in 8 or 7 months you wont be a parent. You realise that your sister is due in one month and you have to be happy for her and you are - you truly are but its tough. You realise that you wont have a child a week younger than your brother come next March and that you wont have a child at all come that time.
Nothing can prepare you. In a matter of minutes your decorating their room in your head and then there's no room. Just an empty space.
All you can do is hope that next time its better. Next time all will be OK. A year later and its still sore but this has been a good year so far and only getting better. It's funny how your subconscious acts - you are thinking about it without realising its a year. The year is suddenly upon you.
But its OK to be sore so you can enjoy the good times even more. And there will be good times.