Wednesday, 6 May 2009

My Girl.

The test on 4th February 2008 confirmed what I already knew. I had joked on a TTC forum that I was either pregnant or having one heck of a phantom pregnancy. Even before the hormones were strong enough to show, they were making me sickly and sore. My solicitous daughter - giving me strong, strong signs to support me through the frightening early weeks of a pregnancy conceived quickly after a miscarriage.

I felt her move at 14 weeks - early I suppose. I feel such gratitude for having a few extra weeks of cherishing her presence in a more tangible way. Her movements were gentle, unlike those of her big brother, who thought he was John Travolta and gave frequent in utero renditions of "Staying Alive" at 2am in the morning. I never worried for the health of my ribs or my bladder with Emma. Ironically, hers was the only pregnancy not to entail a frightened phone call to the maternity ward concerning reduced movements - she was never terribly active nor terrifyingly still. She and I passed our days gently, lyrically.

I had regular osteopathic treatment through my second and third trimester and I'd lie quietly, feeling her feline stretches in me. She liked those moments as much as she hated the Doppler. Her heartbeat always seemed easy to catch but never for long. She would twist and turn away from the wand - demonstrating a definite preference for privacy.

I always think of her as generous spirited and giving. After all, Tuesday's child (according to the rhyme) is full of grace. She was the only one of my children (and will always be unique in this respect) to initiate spontaneous labour - and on the day before her due date. As a mummy who was concerned about a long pregnancy (40+12 & 40+7 for the last two) , I was so proud of my little "Bobby Bingo" for surprising everyone with an "early" arrival.

I don't know if I will ever write about the details of my actual labour here. I don't think I can. My feelings are confused, vacillating. One the one hand, it was a beautiful and peaceful space - a time to heal a lot of the birth trauma that I experienced with my previous two births. On the other hand, something went very silently and catastrophically wrong. Labour killed my baby girl. She slipped away from us without us ever knowing.

And then I held her in my arms: 7lbs & 4oz and chubby. Gorgeously round little body - so healthy looking. She was the image of her sister - the same button nose, perfect cupid bow lips and almond shaped eyes but with dark hair. I'd joked in labour how I was hoping for the set - a red head, a blondie and now, maybe, a brunette. She was a brunette - the only one of my children to have my colouring. She had long fingers, like her brother - another pianist for the family. I wish I knew if she had a birth mark. I didn't look for one when I took off the clothes the midwives had dressed her in and held her naked against my chest, willing her heart to start beating again. I forgot to look to see if she had the little genetic tic that runs in my family - a very slightly webbed toe that both my son and I have. "Did Emma?" he asked once. I cried when I told him I hadn't looked.

As I read back what I've written here, I see my choice of words give shape to the person I think she would have been: solicitous, gracious, lyrical and generous hearted, less of a fire cracker than her big sister! And my heart breaks all over again to realise that I will never truly know in this lifetime. All I can do is share my proud memories of my littlest girl, my Emma Faith.

10 comments:

Inanna said...

I'd forgotten that mother goose rhyme... Wednesday's child is full of woe... *sigh*

I hate thinking of all those things I didn't look for or notice, those things we would have noticed over time, that would have unfolded in our getting to know each other in the first few weeks. :(

Anonymous said...

Oh Jill. One of my greatest regrets is that I didn't make more of my time with Iris in those hours after I delivered her. I didn't realise it was OK to keep touching her so we just looked at her and took photos 'from a distance' until one of the midwives gave us permission to hold her again. Wasted moments. As I was reading your post I suddenly realised that I don't think I ever looked at her back or her beautiful little baby bottom.

still life angie said...

jill, emma sounds so beautiful, so perfect...the words you chose for her paint such a vivid picture of who she was inside you, as well as who she would have been. it is so heartbreaking she isn't here, and we couldn't fall in love with something new about her every day.

i wish i had spent my time with lucy unwrapped and studying all her baby bits. i still want to nibble on her tootsies, and pinch her little bum.

much love. xo

Hope's Mama said...

What a beautiful post about your little girl. I am so honoured to know these things about her. I too wish I soaked up more of Hope after she was born. I also never saw her bottom, at least not for long. After Simon dressed her, we never unwrapped her again, and we kept her with us overnight. We had so much time with her compared to others, yet I still yearn for more. It will never be enough.

Shannon Ryan said...

Oh Jill.. you are such a wonderful momma to Emma. I think if all of us knew then, what we know now, we would have taken more time just looking at them. I was afraid to unwrap Dresden completely, I will regret that forever.

By the way, Gwen has a little bit of a webbed toe too!! We didn't even notice it on her til she was 6 months old! Crazy!!

Big hugs to you Jill!!

Catherine W said...

What a beautiful post about Emma. My health visitor said that my surviving daughter, who is now eight months old, said that now she would be starting to develop a personality. I had to bite my tongue. I think we know our children long before that, not in a mystical way but a feeling for their personality. I think that you knew your Emma long before she was actually born.

I'm glad that you have some beautiful and peaceful memories of Emma's birth. I've almost felt that it was almost the last straw that all my happy memories of pregnancy and of my daughters were tainted by how events finally worked out.

My girls are also Tuesday's children. They are also full of grace, just like Emma.

Oh and if you have some secret recipe for the long pregnancies you had with your first two would you care to share?!

Fireflyforever said...

Thank you all for your lovely, generous words. I feel so fragile right now and I miss her so much. Thank you for coming here, in the midst of your own hurt and pain, to remember our Emma with us. I won't say you can never know how much it means - because I know that, sadly, you all do know how precious this community is.

Shannon Ryan said...

aww jill, seriously, I just love you! big ole hugs! :)

Rachele Stuart said...

Oh Jill. *hugs* I always regret not being able to spend more time with him. Why did I let them make me go home that night? The only night he ever spent here, I was crying in my mother's bed. I wish we would have spent more time holding him and looking at him. We only did for an hour or so after he was gone. One hour in our arms, and that was it. This may be an old theme, but it's just not fair - to any of us. *hugs*

Dalene said...

I love your description of Emma's personality. So beautiful and touching. I, too, wish I had spent more time with B. I wish that I had explored every inch of his body. I never saw his baby bum and that makes me so sad.

And I don't know if I'll ever completely share my whole story on my blog. I wrote about the peaceful Part 1, but not about what happened later.