|Home again, home again...
||[Jun. 3rd, 2007|06:02 pm]
So, we slept pretty solidly and woke this morning feeling... knackered. No idea why! *grin*
We chatted to the doctor, who ended up crying in front of us because we're such a loving and supporting couple. Chatted to Maree, our favourite midwife, who is looking foreward to us coming back in again one day with a full-term pregnancy.
Didn't get to talk to Nurse Dalek, as we now call her. Shame, I would have liked to have heard her grate, "Next time bring in viable off-spring!"
And we spent time with our little girl once more. We may be the only people in the world who think this way, but to us she's beautiful and perfect. But you know what bloody parents are like! "Ooohhh.. isn't beautiful? She how's she's almost got ears? And look! You can see her skeleton through her skin! Isn't that adorable?"
I realised, thanks to the weight description on the box, that Tracy weighed the same as three of those Ferrero Rocher chocolate balls.
I realised also, that she was the same size as an action figure. I checked her against the palm of my hand and just paused to check against a figure here - my daughter was the same height as a David Tennant action figure!
I told Sharon there was something I needed to do with bub, and I hoped it wasn't too weird or freakish for her. I picked up Tracy in the little blanket and such that they had her wrapped in, and held her close to me. Then, swaying and turning gently, I danced with my daughter to the music in my heart.
Sharon wept as I danced the one dance I would ever have with our little girl. I looked up into her tear-filled eyes, turned back to Tracy and said, "You know, you're a crap dancer." To which Sharon responded, "Well, you're meant to be leading!"
I finished, and kissed Tracy goodbye, knowing this would be the last time I saw her. She's going to pathology in the hope that if it wasn't just a random hiccup, we can stop it happening again to one of her little brothers or sisters. We're arranging to have her cremated separately, and we'll collect her ashes. There won't be much left. I want to mix a little of her remains with my father, as it's the closest he'll ever get to seeing his grand-daughter.
I also want a pinch to go to Eucla with me.
lilysea drove us home and we collapsed into bed. I woke at one point to find Sharon crying in her sleep, so I held her and she awoke from the sad dream in my arms.
It's funny the way my mind works. Ok, it's also scary. On one hand I'm a little sad that I won't be able to take my healthy baby to Swancon and do a Doctor Evil and Mini-Me costume for the masquerade. On the other hand, with all the horribly black humour that has come from this situation, I'm very tempted to turn it into a show for the Melbourne Comedy Festival - with gutter_monkey's dalek in the appropriate part!
Teasing My Dead Daughter
a black comedy about miscarriage and livejournal.
We're both doing ok. A little teary, very tired, but good. We're also aware that in coming days, or weeks or months that we won't be. I don't know when Shaz or I are going to crawl into a ball and wail for an hour, but I know it'll happen. Probably more than a few times.
Thanks again, to those who posted, to those who thought about us, and to those who prayed for us. You've all shown that if we need you, a community of people is there to comfort us, hold us, to give us strength, and let us be as weak and fragile as we need to be.