A person who changed my life

august 19 2007

She was born at one of those days that the temperatures hit through the roof.
It was august.

A friend was delivering her baby when my contractions started.
The midwife was with her, just 5 minutes from our house.

I worked as a pregnancy counsellor those days, and knew that all midwives were bussy at the time, or out of town.
So I just called the midwife, a good friend, telling her I was doing fine.
She told me she was badly in need of sleep and wanted 2 hours of sleep. After that she would come to me.
We laughed and were happy the baby of my friend was healthy and all was well.

15 minutes later the contractions raged through my body. Not a moment of rest between them.

I managed to call my hb downstairs, and he thought I was joking.
5 minutes later he brought me a cup of coffee, saw me, put the mug down and called the midwife.

There was no time to bring the oldest to family, so he took him, looked which of the neighbours was already awake and told them they had to watch our boy.

I nearly gave birth without someone present. It didn't worry me a bit, because I was so happy that I finally would see this little miracle.

She was born when my hb was still on the phone asking for a nurse, and the midwife entered the room.
Her's was the easiest delivery of all, and the most beautiful.

She was awesome.

All day and all night she stayed with me in my arms.

There she suddenly died the next day.

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She changed my life as no one ever has done.

Holding her little body, seeing her peaceful face, took away all feelings towards death I had before she died.

I learned that even though we bury the body, the spirit of the person stays with us.

Dealing with all arrangements, with the grief of others, with my own grief, gave me insight in myself, my place in the world.
I had to deal with being a mother and taking care of my son, seeing to it that he wouldn't be traumatised by loosing his little sister, and with wanting to be a mother of a baby that wasn't there anymore.
Life went on, and came to a standstill.
People send me flowers and condolances, and others quickly went inside when I walked in the street and passed the garden they were working in.

The baby of my friend was alive, the baby of my niece died

We shared our feelings, when another couple asked if we would be able to talk to them. They had lost a baby too.
(We've questioned ourselves ever since if all these unexpected deaths had to do with Chernobyl. The nuclear disaster happened during pregnancy.)

Because I was already a pregnancy counsellor, and had councelled terminal patients, I was asked to start a grief group for parents.
After quite some hesitation, I decided to start a group.

Within a few months we had 4 groups and a few months more I worked all evenings and the weekends.
During these meetings we came across many problems and mistakes, many regrets and many wishes.

We started with the little changes at the cementeries.
We wanted more opportunities to add art to the graves.

We also wanted the hospitals to take more care of the parents.
Before the babies were removed after they died and the parents could never see them again.
Due to an australian movie we found the motivation to make clear to hospitals and midwifes that it's good that parents can see their babies. Even hold them if they want to.

With a group of parents we shared our experiences and feelings to make clear it's better to be able to say a proper goodbye to the baby.

Later we got hospitals to make prints of feet, to make photos.

Slowly a whole movement toward a different way of dealing with died babies grew.
We even were able to change the law, so babies needn't be buried in a coffin. We got insurances changed, so we could properly bury premature babies. And a lot more.

During all this time I went through the pain, the loss, and all the other feelings mothers like me experience.
It gave insight in who I was at the time, in how I dealt with pain and death.
Life taught me in it's own way, and enabled me to help others.

My little girl made me aware how precious each life is.
That we have to take care of it, not how we like it for ourselves, but how it is best for the child.

I've enjoyed my other children so very much. They were a gift each and every day.

She also made clear to me how I feel about war.
Innocent children die. It can't be we fight for each and every life in the hospitals, but accept that bullets and bombs also hit children and pregnant mothers.

She made me aware how teachers treat my children.
Each child needs respect, not because it has done all the homework, but because it's a precious life.

I feel far too many people take children for granted.

The changes and development in society are not taking into account that children only do well when they get a proper upbringing and proper education.
Mothers have to work, and most of the time they're far too tired to give their children all the attention they should have.

Etc etc.

Well, after my little girl I received more children.
And because some turned out to be handicapped the choice to stay at home was the only choice I wanted to make.
When a psychiatrist wanted to put one of the children in an institution when things didn't go well for a while, I fought a firm battle. She even wanted to get a court order, but I knew that sedative medication and isolationrooms are not the way to treat autistic children, so I stood firm.

I couldn't fight death, but with what I learned I could fight the living.

written for the writing project at Summer's Nook.