Day 16 -What ifs…the mistakes they made

Monday 30th July

Happy due date Katie, Katie and I had a habit of texting each other happy week 35 etc. Today was her due date, I really though her baby would have been born over the weekend, I don’t know why. She replied to my message saying she was still cooking away. I worry deeply for her, I realise that this is my own anxiety off loading into her. I want her to take her baby home so badly, I don’t want her to be in my position.

Today is the day the my community midwife is coming for my final visit. It’s a sad day for me. I can feel it already, I can feel that it’s, James takes the dogs for a walk as I wait. Once she arrived we chat about how I am feeling, I think I am emotional today more so than any other visit, it’s the end of my 9 month journey under the midwife care. It’s the end of my pregnancy. I know this sounds stupid as Findley died over two weeks ago now, but it still hurts , maybe another bit of reality that means I have to have acceptance.
Farewell but not goodbye my midwife tells me, I have asked if I can go under her care in future pregnancies, of course I can, even if it means traveling to another village for clinics. I feel myself stuffed not to cry as she leaves.  I really do hope it’s not to long that she awaits my call with happy news .

I have my therapist today, I have no idea what to expect, James drives me down and drops me off, I still am not ready to venture out myself to somewhere new.

My session went well I like the therapist and I think I feel I got some focus from it all, it’s not taken away my pain, but given me some understanding. When I was in my appointment my phone was ringing it was an NHS Grampian number but I couldn’t answer it. I have two voice mails when I get into James car. I listen to them, it’s a consultant, not my new one but another one. I call back she explains my consultant is in holiday but she has the answers to my questions I had, would I like her to go over them with me or wouldn’t I like to wait till my consultant comes back in two weeks. I think to myself two weeks is a long time if she has the answers in front of her.

I feel like someone has stabbed me in heart as she tells me that they had already discussed Findley’s case at two meetings, and identified that I should have been rescanned after my last episode of reduced movements, and they should have discussed induction also. This is protocol. She also tells me that Findley has not grown at all from his 37 week scan till the day he died, although once babies die the start to loose weight rapidly, but it unlikely her grew much in the two weeks. am so angry, and furious, I do not deserve these what ifs!! What if they had induced me would he still be alive? What if they had rescanned would they have seen an issue with the blood blow. I phone my mum and start to cry as I tell her. I know that none of these mistakes will have caused Findley to die but cold they have picked up what was going wrong?

I text my my yoga instructed who is also a midwife to tell her what my consultant has said. Her response was spot on and just what I needed to recenter and to stop my spin. She says that all the What if have risks too, what if we had decided to induce, What if he handing survived induction or labour or had died after births. I read the message to James and take peace in what she has said, imagine I had agreed to induction and he had died, I would never have ever forgive myself. There are what ifs to the what ifs.

I think What would Findley have wanted, he would have been brought up with our ideas and morals. He would want for them to learn and for no other family to be sitting here with the what ifs. So I vow that I will make sure that these people
Who didn’t follow protocol who decided on there knowledge not to do as they should see suitably dealt with, I want them reported to the correct bodies, as far as I am concerned not following protocol is gross misconduct.

I promise not to fight with these people Findley but I will do my best to honour what I know you would have wanted.

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