6 months on....


The last few nights as I've laid awake in bed waiting for sleep, I've been thinking how it's almost 6 months since...well, what do you call it? If I say 'since my operation' it sounds quite clinical. If I say 'since the day I nearly died' or ' the day my baby died' it sounds really dramatic. It was an ectopic pregnancy which ruptured, and I nearly bled to death before I even got to theatre.

Excuse my brows, I was growing them back after shaving them off on a menstrual whim

I realised a few nights ago that it still hasn't really sunk in what happened, how close I was to death. When I say the words which describe what happened, they're just words, somehow disassociated with the events. I was thinking to myself 'You had to have a blood transfusion. You were on oxygen for 3 days solid. You lost litres of blood. You NEARLY DIED.'

I suppose I'm still in shock. None of it feels like it happened to me. When I find myself telling people about it, I must sound terribly flippant, almost as if I'm talking about it happening to someone else. I say it so matter-of-factly with no trace of emotion it must be almost as if I'm talking about having a manky toenail removed or some other minor medical procedure.

I don't know why this is. Maybe it's a coping mechanism.
I'd better get over it, because in a matter of weeks my due date will be upon us. James has got a lovely way of seeing things. When I suggested doing something on the day we were due to be parents to take away the misery of the day he said 'It's OK. We can make a new one!' Hahaha. Love that man.

Thanks for reading.