1 year ago today I met you for the first time.
That day was the hardest and most amazing day of my life.
I’d had pains for a few nights, but nothing I understood to be labour. Just back pains. I didn’t think there was anything to worry about.
Really I was in denial. I didn’t want you to come so soon, I knew your life would be in danger.
This night, one year ago, I realised my “back pain” was coming every 2-3 minutes. But still I was in denial.
By the time I agreed to let the nurses check me, they could see hair.
I laboured with you and birthed you like any other baby. And through it all, your heart rate never once slowed down, you never showed signs of distress, you just carried on kicking me throughout, so calm, so sure.
At about 12:45am, you finally came out, and you came out to prove those doctors wrong. Although your lungs were very underdeveloped you managed a small squeaky cry before they wrapped you up in clingfilm and intubated you.
I could see you trying to hit them away as they tried to look at you.
You didn’t want them, you wanted me. I could only lie there, not knowing what was happening as they worked on you on the other side of my delivery room. No one told me anything, I couldn’t see you very well. The nurses were trying to look after me, and get me to birth the placenta, but all I cared about was you.
Eventually someone told me that they had managed to get the ventilation tube down your throat, and I was happy. It was a great start. As they wheeled you out the room you gave me a sleepy wave, as if to say, “I’m OK mummy, see you soon,”
Your first photo - taken by daddy to reassure me
It was 3 long hours later that I actually got to see you. I didn’t know if you were OK, I didn’t know what was happening to you, I could only imagine what you looked like. Eventually, they called me to the SCBU, they told me you had apgars of 8 – amazing for a 26 weeker they told me would never be born alive. And it was with fear and excitement I walked down that corridor, washed my hands, and finally was allowed in to see you, my most beautiful boy.
My little Gideon, we meet at last.
I cried, it broke my heart to see you with the tubes and all those wires. But at the same time, my heart surged with love. I felt like I’d always known you and always loved you. And I never wanted to let you go. From then on, my life was all about you!
My Gideon, my sweet little boy. I love you, and I miss you. The time you spent with us on earth meant everything to me, and it is this that I try to remember and celebrate. Although I cry today for the loss of someone so perfect and so dear to me, I rejoice for that time I had with you, and that you live on forever, in my heart, in my memories, and in the arms of the angels.
Rest well my prince, know we are always thinking of you. And you are never, ever forgotten.
I made this video for today. A overview of our year with Gideon in our hearts.