- This topic has 3 replies, 4 voices, and was last updated 5 months, 2 weeks ago by .
May 2022: I was writing my first book, minding my 1 yr old grand daughter once a week, looking forward to the birth of a grandson in August 2022 and about to go on a long overdue road trip with my husband. Life was great.
After a diagnosis of early onset menopause my daughter was excited to become a single mum. The IVF worked. I was over the moon.
Then in the middle of May 2022 my daughter developed preeclampsia and had an emergency Cesarean. Her son was delivered at 26 weeks. My daughter was very ill, we could have lost her. After a rocky start both mother and son improved and grew stronger. After two weeks my daughter was walking on her own again and her son was off the ventilator and putting on weight. We felt confident that he was thriving and she would eventually take him home.
At three weeks of age my grandson died of a hospital acquired infection. Our feisty, gorgeous boy was here and gone in an instant. My eyes are welling over as I write this bit. He was so very much wanted and longed for. It’s so incredibly cruel that a dirty needle or a careless procedure denied our little man the chance of a wonderful life.
The excruciating pain of my daughter’s conversation with an undertaker about her baby son ashes keeps me awake at night, along with the anger I feel about his death.
Ever since his death my daughter and I have been like zombies. We’ve been eating and sleeping badly, living in pjs and letting the TV wash over us. When I’ve been desperately low I’ve rung the Red Nose support line. That’s helped a lot, but they deal with the loss of a child.
A week ago (ten weeks after we lost our grandson) my husband was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer in his lung and backbone. The cancer has metastasized from a stage 2 skin cancer that was removed from his neck three years ago. Back then he had radiation and the removal of lymph nodes. Today his specialist told him that this new cancer is incurable.
I’m numb. It’s too much. Our lives have imploded.
I’ve read all the grief counselling suggestions, have regular sleep patterns, eat a healthy diet, exercise every day even if it’s only a walk to the letter box. Why bother? WHY? What’s the point? The road ahead looks dark. My wonderful husband won’t see his grandchildren enjoy life. I’m wretched and heartbroken.
- You must be logged in to reply to this topic.