Right, now, here goes. This post is by far the hardest one I will ever write, yet it is the one I am most sure about.
I felt like Jason’s story needed to be shared with the world. Whether anyone ever reads it or not, it is just nice to feel like someone, somewhere might feel something when they hear of him.
Jason was born on the 29th March 2015 at 35 weeks and 3 days. It was a traumatic birth and one that I was not expecting, especially as it was my first pregnancy and everything had gone so well previously. We had no inclination that on that Sunday morning we would have to go through what we did to bring him in to this world. I had been ill on the previous Friday and had the day off work, which I assumed was just a stomach bug as it only lasted 24 hours and I was pretty much better the next day. Throughout the Saturday night and early Sunday morning I awoke regularly every hour with a few niggling pains which I again put down to constipation however by 6:45am Sunday morning these pains got worse and my husband decided we should get checked out. He rang the hospital but whilst dialling the number I started to give birth (very quickly). It seems that the pains were in fact contractions but nothing as painful as I’d imagined so I didn’t think it would be with 5 weeks left to go in our pregnancy. This meant Jason was to be born at home, my waters did not break, there was no show, nothing. Zilch. Nada. The first sign that I was in labour was seeing my boys legs hanging. This is where the story becomes traumatic. My husband (who has a major blood phobia) had to try and deliver our baby whilst we waited for the ambulance to arrive. It took a long time for me to deliver Jason’s head as he was breech (unknown to us that he had turned before his birth). Jason was born at 7:36am and quickly rushed to our local hospital while I followed a few minutes later in another ambulance.
While we waited I was told there would be a very small chance that my baby would survive but I didn’t/couldn’t process this, I just gave birth and I didn’t even know if I had a girl or a boy! My husband was amazing throughout everything, supporting me in ways I never imagined he could.
Jason lived for 37 minutes before the doctors decided there was nothing else they could do for him. He was a tiny baby weighing in at just 3lbs 6ozs, which didn’t seem unusual as I was only 3lbs 13ozs born so I never believed he would be a big baby. There was no explanation as to what happened other than the fact that he was starved of oxygen and therefore his little heart couldn’t get its beats back up. I was lucky to spend the entire day with him, I cuddled him, looked over every speck of him, gave him kisses, spoke to him. Did all the things I always wanted to. My family got to meet him, they were able to spend time with him and we all felt strong together. I never quite grasped that my baby was no longer alive, it felt so weird to hug a baby that should be crying yet lay lifeless in my arms.
I felt useless, no longer able to protect my brother, my husband, my son. Unable to be strong, I wanted to just hear him cry, hours later I still hoped they were all wrong and he was just asleep. I wriggled him, cried on him, dared him to move just slightly. To make the nightmare just that, a nightmare, but no, this was it. My life had truly ended that day. The day I said hello and goodbye to my son. I never saw him again, 29th March 2015 was the last day I saw him, got to hold him. But I never stopped loving him from the moment we found out about him to this very day, I love him unconditionally with my whole heart, begging that he was here with us now.
Jason’s story does not end there, I made sure his memory has lived on in the past 15 months and I’m sure I will tell you all about it soon.
Always my special little boy, Jason. Mummy and Daddy love you always.
A x
Mothering A Rainbow 