I need to get this out there. I need to talk about it, but when I've tried talking to Dear Husband (DH) he just shoots me down, telling me to forget about it, don't think about it.
He doesn't realise that it's just not that easy.
Today marks 12 months since the scary rollercoaster started. It's when my waters broke, when we thought I'd just wet myself.
When we presented at the hospital. For the midwife to look at me with sad eyes and tell me that my waters were gone.
That agonising wait for the doctor to show up.
The doctor giving the midwife a signal to say I was dilating already.
Waiting with my mum for DH to come back from picking my bag up.
Knowing that I was only allowed to walk to the toilet, and even then I had to go slowly.
Going into the Special Care Nursery (SCN) for the first time to see where our baby WOULD go, regardless.
Back to the wondering what had I done wrong? Why was my baby coming early? Would he/she be ok? Had I eaten something? Had I caught something?
There's a part in the back of my mind today that's replaying everything I did up until it all happened. From when I was at the shops, to helping mum, talking to my aunt.
Occassionally, it get's too overwhelming and I need to shake myself, and look at my precious little girl and focus on the awesome day coming up on the weekend. Her very first birthday.
I want to know if other premmie parents go through this, but I'm too scared to ask because as much as I want to know, I guess I don't want to know. I really hope this year is as bad as it gets. This is why my Christmas shopping is all done and dusted and all my presents wrapped.
That's it from me today. You know that my mind is addled, I'm a bit scattered and scarred. But we will be ok. You can bet on that!