I can’t begin to explain how much energy it took to write this post. Even though I write in a book everyday, just gathering sentences and conveying emotions is utterly exhausting.
It’s 11 days since we buried Robyn. The weather has been good for a change and I’ve spent many a morning sat in the garden listening to the birds. When I see a little bird hop down and make a scene that they are there, it feels as though Robyn has come to see me. I love to see the rainbow coloured windmill spinning in the breeze, I always blow a kiss as I know he is saying hello.
We went to London for the weekend as a birthday treat after I somewhat miserably turned 33 last week. We talked on the train about how we had been feeling and how we can support each other. Then 45 minutes after we alighted the train, we had a blazing row in the middle of the Tate modern. I looked at my wife and said “I’m so exhausted I don’t have space for this in my head”. It left a blot on an already frayed landscape but we managed to leave our row at the Tate and try to enjoy the rest of the day.
I am so exhausted. We are both so exhausted. I yawn all day, battle my urge to withdraw and my limited motivation, try to keep in touch with people, read, write, listen. But I am so exhausted. And then when I go to bed I sleep for 3 hours and then I’m awake. Still yawning but my head will not sleep. Even the sleeping tablets the GP gave aren’t working. Every second of every day I think about Robyn.
When we came home there was a letter on the mat, although no recognisable markers on the envelope, I knew it was from the hospital. Our consultant at the maternity hospital wrote to let us know that Robyn’s postmortem results are back. She explained it had found abnormalities which would explain him passing away. She said it was not genetic and the chance of the abnormalities reoccurring were low. She explained that these were not visable on ultrasound.
My poor little boy was poorly. We won’t know exactly what with until we go in to discuss the results. Having taken four years to conceive him, following cycles of IVF, having a perfect 12 week scan, feeling the beginning flutters of movement, for him to then pass away, I can’t help but feel cheated. Why our little boy after all we had been through just to have him? I hope all he felt was love and safety and not any pain or suffering.