Tuesday, 30 July 2013 EDD
It is here. It is evening. I haven’t thought about it all day. I remembered it last night. I remembered the hospital and a friend’s attempt to see me in hospital that day. She never made it in time. I was discharged already. Her boyfriend made it. I met him for the first time on the day of my miscarriage. It was awkward and kind of sweet. I never minded the hospital too much, the whole taking care of you thing, bad food and sweet milky tea. I found time to relax there. I never lie in bed all day.
It is here. This would have been another summer baby. Baby is now lost, but I have a new life within me. Winter child has just stared to move inside me. I can feel it. It’s very hot today. The family and I are on Dugi otok, Long Island in the Adriatic Sea. It’s rough and beautiful here with rough cliffs, wind and heat. We swam in the salty warm lake. We swam in the crystal clean cold sea. How will we manage all this with one more: long walks, heat, eating in restaurants, mosquitos and wasps?
It is here and it is through this writing that I am trying to remember. There is no Internet access here. I am glad to be forgotten out here in the Adriatic Sea. I would have been in the Liverpool Women’s Hospital now, all open, all in pain. I long for water birth this time. I wonder if I will be too bothered about it when the time comes in freezing January. I am glad to be having a winter rather than a summer baby. Why can’t I think about the baby I lost? My mind travels elsewhere. The baby I lost is elsewhere. Maybe I never believed in it. Maybe I feel better because things are happening within my body again. I am with a child, a brand new possible child, with fear and with hope.
It is here and I feel removed. I can no longer address the baby I lost. It’s elsewhere, completely gone. Am I too cruel in my forgetfulness? Will it hit me hard? There are flashbacks of the event: the gush of blood, the moment I knew it was over, the lack of control. At the moment I must think different thoughts, those that are fresh and new. Sweet, sweet beginnings…