I was getting really tired of calling the pregnancy clinic and I was getting really desperate for answers – any answers! Another week would go by and again, when they didn’t call, I would call again, only to get the same answer ‘we’ll call you next week’. I was starting to feel like an inconvenience every time I rang and I was starting to get annoyed by the lack of empathy from the staff on the other end of the phone. I understood that they were relaying the information being passed on while I had been put on hold, but it was taking all my strength not to break down in tears.
In the mean time we were expected to continue with life as we knew it – sad and grieving the loss of our baby boy, while also attending to the needs of our three-year-old.
Charlie was doing ok and him and I had worked out some kind of routine for each week since Dave had returned to work. On Monday’s we would catch up with friends, either at home or at the Wunghnu Café, which in the early days we visited weekly. They do a beautiful breakfast and they have a small enclosed play area. Charlie loves heading in there and as it’s located on the Goulburn Valley Highway, he’s the kid who stands at the fence pointing out all the trucks that pass by. On a good day the police drive by with flashing lights and sirens blazing and on a bad day (and more often than not) serval lovely smelling cattle trucks. Regardless, we always have a good time and I can breathe easy knowing Charlie is safe and I can enjoy my coffee.
On Tuesday’s would catch up with Nannie, either at home or Benalla. Charlie was doing a lot better in the car, chatting away, pointing things out as we drove past and of-course singing along to One Direction and our boy Louis Tomlinson.
Spending these days with Charlie allowed me to see how much he had grown up these past few weeks, and although they were never easy days, I was always grateful for them. They forced me to acknowledge how lucky we actually were to have our first-born earth-side, happy and healthy with us.
We had started to share the nursery with friends and family, although selectively. But the most frequent visitor, was Charlie. He would stand at the door, point up at the butterfly, smile at us, then turn around and wait patiently for someone to open the door. Charlie learnt to be respectful while spending time in the nursery, he would sit and play quietly with a wooden activity cube that sat beside the nursing chair – I could even walk away and trust that he wouldn’t destroy anything. Dave and I learnt early on that Charlie would let us know when he was finished in the nursery, or as I liked to see it ‘spending time with his brother’. Charlie would go into a full screaming melt down if we rushed him out of the room. Some days he wouldn’t allow us to shut the door at all, he just wanted the door left open.
The day one of the twins, Fiona, from next door wanted to see some of the items that were used at the service, Charlie came bounding up the hallway into the nursery. He grabbed hold of her hand and led her around the room, pointing out all the butterflies, before sitting on the floor and asking her to ‘sit’. The three of us sat together, Fiona and I listening to Charlie jibber away ‘baby sleeping’, ‘shhh’. My eyes started to well before Fiona told me that ‘Louis would be ok because he was with (her) Nan, and she would look after him’.
It really did break the girls heart when they were informed that we had lost the baby, they had been a huge part of my pregnancy journey. Justine even feeling Louis kick several times – they were family and they too had lost a baby brother.
~
Tuesday, October 15 was our first time participating in Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day by joining the ‘Wave of light’.
The International Wave of Light invites participants from around the world to light a candle at 7pm in honour of all angels taken too soon, and to leave the candle burning for at least an hour. The intended result being a continuous chain of light spanning the globe for a 24hour period – all in honour and remembrance of the children who have passed during pregnancy or shortly after birth.
We decided to spend the time together, just us as a family, but we asked those closest to us to participate at their homes and send through a photo. As Louis’ placement at the cemetery hadn’t been finalised, we set up a memorial at the tree that a friend had bought us to remember Louis. The tree was planted in the empty garden bed out the front of Charlie’s bedroom window – the perfect spot for ‘Louis’ tree.’
The previous tree had recently fallen and we were actually considering pulling the entire garden out as our green thumbs weren’t exactly a priority, but alas our circumstances had changed.
Charlie loved the tree and as it flowered, he began to say ‘Louis’ tree, beautiful,’ and enjoyed helping Nannie water and maintain the garden.
At 6.50pm we made our way outside and it was Charlie who made us smile, he wanted to be a part of it, bossing Dave and I around, telling us to ‘sit’ and pointing at the statue we had placed at the foot of the tree of a sleeping boy. The commemoration concluded with Charlie blowing out the candle, before coming inside. We had received several photos from family and friends who had also taken part in lighting a candle, either in memory of Louis or other babies lost. I left the candle burning for several hours that night – for all angel babies.
I would like to think that taking part in the ‘Wave of light’ would become a yearly tradition for our family and that this was the very first of many.
'Our Little Louis' 