When there is trauma, time is warped. It may seemingly stop, slow down or cease to exist. Blessing and curse at the same time. Blessing because you cannot tolerate anything that moves. Curse because each day seem endless.
When we received the first bad news from the Nucal Translucency and until the day we received the CVS results, I was perceiving time as nonexistent, or very distorted. The days were endless and I was really feeling suspended in waiting.
Then, when I received Ida's death sentence time started to choke me, second by second a little tighter and I felt chased by time. I spent those days until the birth preparing for her and finally accompanying my daughter and myself to death. I had to make memories now, I had to keep something from her that would have been mine forever, something to hold on to, considered I had to let go on her.
I was feeling stolen.
But even in this feeling stolen was complicated by a mutated form of time. And like the initial cells that formed my sick baby, splitting and multiplying, time split and multiplied.
The present became bigger that you could sink in it, then split in a past-present, running-present and future-present, all three coexisting at the same time.
In the past-present I was feeling stolen of the ingenuity and concept of normality in pregnancy, I was stolen from happy memories of my first pregnancy. Memories split in before-CVSresults memories and after. I was crying for that lost ingenuity. I was cracking in pain for the memories in which I wasn't grateful enough for being pregnant or took a healthy pregnancy for granted. I grieved for all those memories of the past I had lost already.
In the running-present I was feeling chased, I had to create memories, to protect myself for the future without my daughter. My running present had my almost-dead daughter still kicking on my womb and I was already preparing her death.
In the future-present I was mourning and grieving the violation of dreams, plans and ideas that created the bond with my child, nurtured her until normality finished for us. All those fantasies about our future. I lost them, I lost my child, but also the chance to see her grow, read her empowering stories, bring her up and seeing her becoming a woman I would be proud of. I lost hope, future-present was empty and meaningless. I lost my naivety to feel invulnerable. I had no guarantee I will be happy one day. Everything, every single bad thing can happen to you without you deserving it.
These three times realities, were my present. The thought of my own death was such a sweet comforting thought.
But I had to protect my baby, I had to make memories, to put all the pieces in place to meet her, to make possible she would receive the best treatment the most important person could receive.
I did my best my love. And the memories we cut together in that brief crazy time wrap are the most precious of my life.
My now-present makes me scared of losing details of those memories, all the memories around you, either happy or sad, every time I bring myself outside, or laugh or meet people. I'm the treasurer of your life. People need to know through me the details of your meaningful short life and our love. I can't die without realizing your legacy.
Ida Saoirse Scherer,
our first baby girl, who was born and died at 16+5 weeks on the 30th November 2017.
Resources about Termination for Medical Reasons
Sister-friend Emily writing for her first son Amari Regan (Fragile X Syndrome)
Katrina's blog for her second daughter April Rey (Trisomy 13)