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Writer's pictureAurelia's Wish

Breaking the #StillBorn silence - Day two.

When the light broke through the blinds in our bedroom, I crept out of bed and got ready, unsure of how I made it through the night. Nik was sleeping and so I let him rest, very aware that he too needed time for his mind to be shut off from the pain.


We were due to be at hospital by 8.30am, and I was thankful for the early start. I couldn’t eat, and I barely sipped my tea, I just knew I needed the process to be started. We silently made our way to hospital and I clutched onto my maternity notes tightly, the only records I had about my baby whilst he or she was still alive. At this point in time, I still didn’t know the gender of our baby, we had planned on keeping it a surprise, and this brought such excitement. Now it seemed that everything just brought hurt. My heart told me it was a girl, but never did I think I would be finding out under such circumstances.


We parked up, and everywhere I looked was pregnant women smiling as the sun shone. Of course they were happy, why wouldn’t they be, 24 hours ago so was I. We walked towards the entrance we had been shown, and as promised Debbie was waiting outside for us. She ushered us in and gave us both a cuddle. No words needed to be exchanged, for she understood that our agony was about to be intensified.


As she showed us into our labour room, another nurse followed behind her, and she introduced herself as Sarah. She was very tall, and had a kind face, with an innocent bumbly way about her, I know bumbly isn’t a word, but it fits her perfectly. I could tell instantly that she was going to treat us with nothing but love and dignity. I could feel my heart beating harder, I didn’t want to be there. Tears fell from my eyes and I looked down, I wanted the floor to open up and take me away from this heartache. I felt Nik’s arms around me, but there was simply nothing anyone could say.


Debbie told me guiltily that I would need to be scanned again, but I was aware of this and told her I understood. The doctor from the day before, Dr Thakkar, walked in with another consultant, I was grateful to see his familiar face. He looked at me with anguish in his eyes, and I looked back with anguish in mine. I lifted my top, and the consultant scanned my stomach, I allowed myself to look at the screen willing there to have been a miracle overnight, willing us to defy science, and there was my perfect looking baby laying completely still. I didn’t need anything to be verbally confirmed, I could see it for myself. It felt like I had been winded, like someone had their hands around my throat, I couldn’t breathe, I felt like I was choking and yet not a sound came out my mouth.


I didn’t think it was possible for my heart to shatter any further, until I asked the consultant to tell me the gender of my baby. As she glided the machine over my stomach for the last time, I could hear every single person holding their breath, Nik squeezed my hands tighter and Debbie placed her hand on my left shoulder. “You’re having a little girl.” My head collapsed backwards and this time my cry was loud and more painful than ever before. I didn’t recognise the sound, I didn’t know who it was screaming uncontrollably like that, and then I realised…it was me. The team respectfully left the room and allowed Nik and I to grieve for our baby girl. We clung to each other, aching in every way.


I kept saying to Nik over and over that I couldn’t believe we were having a girl. Although the magnitude of my grief had quadrupled within seconds, I also felt a sense of pride that I…me…Kajal, was carrying our daughter. Nik and I had a girl, and Virrae had the sister he had been dreaming of. We very quickly decided that our daughter needed a name, and even though we had not seen her yet, it felt like the right thing to do. We called her Aurelia India, meaning ‘the golden one’. I held my tummy, closed my eyes, and I prayed. I prayed for our daughter, and I prayed for the strength I knew I needed.


A short time later, Debbie and Sarah came in, we sat and chatted for a long while about still birth, the weather, and other things which I don’t recall. They answered my many questions, they listened, they let me sob and they made us smile. These women are nothing short of angels on earth and I will forever be indebted to them. Sarah asked if I was ready to take the medication which would help my body go into labour, I said yes, but suddenly it all felt so final. I swallowed the pill and I cried again. The tears streamed down my face and this time felt sore against the rawness of my skin. After spending some more time with us talking through the process, we were asked to come back in on Thursday morning, and this would be the day I would give birth to my sleeping angel.


We once again left the hospital hand in hand and in silence. I still clung to my notes, it was all I had left.


The wait to Thursday seemed impossible, how would I make it knowing my baby girl was physically still with me. The hours passed so slowly, and yet the grief got worse at such rapid speed. During the two days I felt my body naturally preparing for labour and I worked hard to keep my body and mind in tune because I knew I needed to give my daughter the entrance she so deserved. The familiar ache at the bottom of my back, and the dull period like cramps began to take over my lower abdomen and filled me with such sadness, a reminder of what I had yet to go through. At this moment in time, I felt both angry and honoured to be woman, I felt full of rage that I had to endure such physical and emotional pain, but I also felt proud that my body was clever enough to know exactly what to do next and was already helping me manage.


Somehow minutes turned to hours, and hours turned to days. I filled the time arranging her funeral. I needed to keep busy, and I needed to do something for my daughter. We had decided on a cremation, as I knew if we had buried her, I would hate the thought of her decomposing underground, and I honestly feared that I would dig her up in the middle of the night and bring her home. I know that makes me sound crazy, but they say grief can do that to you. I’m living proof this is true. Cremating her felt as though I would be freeing her soul and truly letting her go, and I knew that was right for us.


It was on our quest to find the right funeral directors that we met with Kat, another angel disguised as a human. She worked for a family run business, and I instantly connected with her. She guided Nik and I through one of the worst conversations and set of decisions I think we will ever have to make, and she did it with such compassion and love. She made me feel as though she loved Aurelia as much as me. We set the date, made the arrangements and picked a coffin for our girl. It was at this point that I broke down, I remember shaking my head and feeling so suffocated. How was this happening to me? Kat did not charge us a penny, not for the coffin, and not even for the car. I was blown away. She also promised us that she would personally pick Aurelia up herself from the hospital and ensure that she was taken care of whilst she was with them. She looked me in the eyes when she said it, and I knew she meant every word.


I wrote list upon list, what I needed to buy, what I still needed to do. These lists gave me something to get up for, and a reason to keep going. Our parents flocked around us desperate to help, yet knowing they were helpless, and our sisters showered us with love, breaking for us in a way that only a sibling can.

On Wednesday morning my best friend drove over two hours to be by my side, she held me and we both cried as we grieved for my daughter, and the Goddaughter that she would never hold. In grief, you simply never know what you need, you can only take life an hour at a time, but in that moment I knew I needed her there. She did something for me that I will never be able to repay her for, she bought Aurelia’s first outfits, three beautiful baby-grows, all perfectly pink. This was something I knew I would not have been able to do myself. I held them close, and for a few seconds, I allowed myself to imagine that I would be bringing her home.


On Wednesday night, I packed our hospital bags with the heaviest of hearts, and I lay them together with the knowledge this may be the only time I pack bags for mother and daughter. I got into bed for the very last night with my little girl tucked up inside of me and did the only thing I could, I prayed. For Aurelia, for me, for us…

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