In Memoriam: Baby Gino

Just over a month ago, I could hardly believe that it was happening to me… To us. My excitement was contained – I knew that it was still early days but thanks to advancements in science, there it was – “Pregnant” – in digital no less.

We nicknamed you “Gino”, after our favourite sleazy Italian TV chef. Symptoms-wise, I began losing my appetite, feeling bloated and the occasional waves of nausea. Nothing too serious and definitely nothing to complain about. I was growing a baby!

Everything seemed fine until I woke up one day and realised that I was simply feeling too “myself” to be truly pregnant.

That was when I knew.. But everyone simply said that there isn’t one textbook pregnancy and that perhaps, I was just different/lucky.. Same same but different. I checked and my hormone levels were still rising, so I could do nothing else but hope for the best, be positive and pray that I was just being a worry-wart.

Well, the weeks came and went – I got my wish to tell your grandparents at the same time that I was pregnant. In hindsight, it’s funny that everything had worked out as I had planned.. Everyone was so happy 🙂 Telling them made it feel even more real and helped to push aside my fears and worries, even though my gut was telling me to be prepared. For anything. It was still early days remember?

The day of the first ultrasound came, Gino, and I still distinctly remember Daddy telling Pocket that we were on our way to see you. To catch that flutter of a heartbeat which I imagined we would hear faintly, only to realise after that we had not been able to record it down for posterity. And then, we would laugh about it but safe in the knowledge that you’re OK. But that heartbeat – we never heard. Instead, I was sent home to rest for a couple of weeks, with the hope that you’ll catch up in growth. Those were the longest two weeks of my life.. Not knowing for certain and having to be positive but yet knowing instinctively to prepare myself for the worst.

You never did grow. 5 weeks and 4 days into your conception, I think someone made the decision that they wanted to make you even better for us. I was crushed but not as much as your Daddy was. Tears were shed and angry words exchanged but we had to accept the facts.

So, Gino, we’ll see you soon. Not now, but later. I’m sorry you can’t come play with Pocket just yet but know that Mummy and Daddy loved you so, even before we caught your little heart beating.. For the time being, I’ve had to put everything away because a lot reminds me of you and the past couple of months. I also hope you don’t mind that I laugh and smile a lot – I want to be well enough for you when you’re ready once more.

In your memory, I lit a candle on 15 October – Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. See how things worked out? 🙂 We were in time to honour you and all the angel babies other Mummies and Daddies have lost. I also treated myself to two Kimmi dolls – one is Rie who symbolises “Healing”, while the other is a surprise.. For the future 🙂

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