I’m still thinking about The Child, and the trauma of her arrival. I was scared for reasons other than the fact that she was premature, as I had pre-eclampsia. I was also only in my early twenties and had just graduated from uni. There was an element of “What the hell have I done?” going on there as well. Of course that changed when I first saw her. I was however absolutely terrified of hurting her as she was so small and fragile looking. None of the clothes we had fit her, and so when my parents came to visit us in hospital that day they brought with them a load or prem baby clothes and nappies. She didn’t need them immediately though as she was jaundiced and had to be kept under a UV lamp. She kept pulling her scratch mittens off as well, and the eye mask that was to protect her eyes from the lamp. It was very strange feeding her through a tube, and I found it a great relief once she was out of the incubator. Still, I continued to be terrified of hurting her, but I think I managed all right in the end.
Of course The Family didn’t seem to care at all, and that really didn’t help the experience. My family were great though, and helped out a lot. I probably didn’t acknowledge that fact at the time though, and I do regret that. They’re still here for us now though, even if The Family aren’t. In fact it might be better for The Child that way. And The Ex does try. I probably don’t give him enough credit really. But then he does scare me to death with his temper still at times. I wish I could trust him more, because The Child can be a nightmare at times. I love her to bits though, and continue to be very grateful she’s as healthy as she is. I just wish her arrival hadn’t been quite so dramatic and traumatic. I wish I could have found bonding with her a bit easier too.
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