Tuesday, 26 July 2011

35 weeks

And bloody scared. It's 5am and I'm awoke since 4 am or so, unable to sleep and praying for more and more movements. We are in our new home, which is still a mess but we managed to have a nice bedroom and a very comfy bed. I can hear the stream of the water and the birds. But I just can't sleep. I can't help but thinking that today last time Jacopo was already struggling inside me while I was having unaware sleeps and dreams. If he tried to make me understand he wasn't all right, I did not get it and this is something very hard to be over. I pray that Bianca will make me understand, I pray that she is fine in there. I want these last days to fly by.

John sleeps as a little baby next to me, god bless him and again I can't help but look at him and see my boy who had his nose and his beautiful black hair and I wonder if he can see me here, typing my thoughts at dawn, crying my eyes out and hoping that his little sister will arrive safe into this big world, maybe black haired like he was, to bring us joy and hope and to fill up a little bit that deep black hole which I have in my heart for almost one year.

Always loved never forgotten!

Monday, 18 July 2011

11 August

That's gonna be the booked day of induction. How do I feel? That's a really good question: I have no idea. Numb, emotionless, neutral.
She has dropped down, I felt her all day long, my consultant visited me and assured me that everything is looking good and I still live as if I'd walk on the cliff edge. Everyday I wake up waiting for a tragedy to happen.

I have to say that this odd situation has its bright side: everyday when I realise the tragedy hasn't happened I feel blessed and my never-ending joy is renewed over and over again.

11 August... 3 weeks to go. Could the Gods look after us, for once!

Thursday, 7 July 2011

Is this your first baby?

- No, it's my second.
- How wonderful. And how old is your first one?
- He died

Frozen air.

I'm going through this on a daily basis. The first time it happened I was shocked and I lied. The second time I replied that yes, it was my first and mentally apologised to Jacopo. But then I felt so guilty that I swore it was never gonna happen again. Since the third time my standard reply is reported on top of this page. How kindly I deliver the concept that Jacopo left us depends on a few factors:
- if I'm in a good or bad mood
- if the person asking is a perfect stranger or not
- if the person asking asks during a conversation or throw out the question thinking that it's all right to mind my own business just because I'm pregnant.

Whichever is the way I explain that Jacopo did die, I feel 1000 times better this way than denying my son for the sake of people. I'm sorry if it's not the answer they expect, I'm sorry if this is shocking, incredible, terribly sad. I'm sorry if they feel uncomfortable, it is really not my problem. Finally I reckon it's about time that people get to understand that a dead child is still a child, and so, no, this isn't my first baby, and yes, I have a son who died. And, more importantly, NO, I won't forget my son JUST BECAUSE now I'm carrying a daughter. This is a very inaccurate assumption.

End of line.

Sunday, 3 July 2011

Repainting our new home

We spent the whole day repainting our new home. I repainted as well, slowly and with frequent stops, but I did my part in the building up of our place. We made our bedroom and the nursery and pieces here and there of the other rooms. Later in the afternoon I sat down exhausted in my small terrace watching at the parrots on the tree in front of me. I thought that Bianca will love them, green and yellow, noisy and happy. I also heard many low flying planes on their way to Heathrow and I thought that Jacopo would have love them as any other little boy loves planes and trains. And again another moment of "will" and "would have" and again I felt happy and sad and in the middle of nowhere and so tired of not being able to say "is".