Tuesday, June 19, 2012

My first hospital visit

My very dear friend had a baby the other day. We were pregnant together, she is Adaline's godmother, she introduced me to my husband. I am so happy for her, and I greatly anticipated the birth of her daughter. I couldn't wait to meet her. And she is beautiful. Gorgeous. Tiny, small, breathing creature. It wasn't hard to hold her- it was amazing to feel such tiny life in my arms again. My friend looked so beautiful and at peace and I am so happy for her and her partner.

The hospital on the other hand, was a nightmare. Thankfully, Charlie didn't die here in Kentucky and I never have a reason to go back into that hospital again. But, most hospitals are the same and being back in one was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I had prepared myself for seeing the new baby, for being asked if I wanted to hold her, for watching her nurse and smelling that infant smell and hearing those tiny cries. I hadn't prepared myself for the building.

The pattern on the floor tile was almost identical to the pattern of the ER where Charlie was pronounced dead. Stethoscopes hanging from doctor's necks that couldn't detect my son's heartbeat. Styrofoam coffee cups and people sitting in waiting rooms and nurses with clipboards. The smell. The anti-bacterial hand gel everywhere that makes your hands kind of sticky and makes you wish you hadn't used it.

Blue scrubs. White scrubs. Nurses with teddy bears on their scrubs. Little pink plastic pitchers full of ice water, and a million other things that make every hospital the same. But mainly it was the smell.

I felt out of my element. Why had I come alone? Why couldn't I find the right entrance? How hard could this really be?

I sat for a while in the waiting room to try and dry my tears and let the puffiness around my eyes go down so that when I went to see the precious little new baby her parents wouldn't think it was her that was making me sad. I stared at the short blue carpet with the black square patterns on it and remembered being in that small waiting room with David, feeling like we were being ripped apart from the inside.

And I took a deep breath and went upstairs. Whew, I made it up to the maternity ward. I was okay. I could go in and see the baby. And I did, and like I said before, she is amazing.

One more thing checked off my list, and thankfully for a happy occasion.


  1. Hi Holly, just want to let you know that this blog has given me hope everything else I read about life after sids has frightened me no end..reading about people feeling worse as the years go on frighten me..mt son died on the 29th march this year and like you I am living this awful new normal..just to say thank you for your blog and your attitude is inspiring..

    1. Thanks! I am so sorry for your loss. I know you are hurting and suffering, the same as I am and I hate knowing that other people have to feel this way too.