I’ve always said that I was grateful for all my memories of Oscar, that I got to meet him alive, that I got to hold him, to see his eyes and to spend those 23 days with him. I’ve always said that I would rather live with the pain those memories cause than not have had them at all. That it was better to have known and lost him than to have never known him.
What I’d not really thought about dealing with is the feelings you get when the memories start fading. It’s been over 9.5 years since I found out I was pregnant and that seems like a whole life time ago sometimes.
I found out I was pregnant in July 2013. I know this because I have a photo of the positive test. My first scan was in September 2013. That was the perfect scan where I didn’t know anything was wrong. But what happened between July and September? How did I feel? Did I notice any changes with my body? Did I tell anyone I was pregnant? …..I don’t remember. I’ve tried thinking about it, but I just don’t remember. It’s as if all that happened with the pregnancy after that point, all of the additional scans, the worry and the heartbreak just wiped out that one month where I would have been so happy. Where those positive memories, those worry free memories would have been.
I’ve still got my old phone from 2013 but there aren’t any clues there. It’s almost as if August 2013 has been completely wiped from existence. And even if I were to get pregnant again, I wouldn’t ever get to have that “perfect” early pregnancy again. The worries would be there from day one, or rather from before day one. And that’s why I wish I could have those memories back, because they aren’t something that can ever be replaced.
At that first scan in September 2013 they were unable to complete the Nuchal Translucency test as it was slightly too early for it to be done (the scan had been bought forward because I was going to be on holiday at the planned time.) When I had the rescheduled ultrasound a couple of weeks later that was when it was discovered there was likely a concern with Oscar’s development.
It’s strange because I remember the holiday; I can tell you where I went, I can remember the attractions visited, I can remember walking around supermarkets, I can remember some of the meals I ate even down to what the gravy was served in at the M&S cafe (ie, really mundane things!) but do I remember being pregnant on that holiday? No, I don’t.
The only reasons I know I was were because of the dates and because of a tiny grey cardigan I purchased in M&S (not the same one I ate lunch in.)
The cardigan still exists, the memories of being pregnant on holiday don’t. I would have said that it’s because after I knew something was possibly wrong with the baby I became hyper focused on trying to remember every detail, but then why do I remember other things about the holiday just not being pregnant? It’s as if my mind has somehow put a blank over those early memories of my pregnancy.
I once worried that Oscar would be forgotten, that my memories of him would fade. They probably have and I don’t doubt they will more as the years pass, but for now at least I can still conjure up a memory of him in my arms whenever I need to. And if I’m honest the images I think of are not always the ones you have seen, they aren’t the ones from the photos. Often they are the moments that were just mine and Oscar’s alone. The moments where there wasn’t a photo taken.
And should those memories ever fade then I have photos, I have the blog posts and in those he will never fade. In them my memories of Oscar will always last and if I ever need a reminder all I will ever have to do is go back and re-read them.
Because he isn’t here though, because there will never be new memories I will always wonder what was in those missing ones from my early pregnancy. I hope I was happy. I hope I got to experience that Joy people should feel when they find out they are expecting. I hope I had all those hopes and dreams for my Baby’s future. I hope I imagined a life as my Baby’s mother. Because even though I don’t get to be Mummy to Oscar in the way I wish I could, I hope that I once imagined I could.
Oscar's Story 