⚠️Digression 10 ⚠️ (Other babies and empty incubators) Trigger warning !!!

17th June: As in my last blog post, I wrote about how there was another baby just came in and was premature and so so small. She was a 24wk little girl, I didn't catch the name as it was all rush, rush, rush. As I sat next to Oliver in the small corner of the room, I could see the nurses work frantically around her incubator just to keep her stable. Not being nosey, but overhearing, the little girl only weighing in at 310g made me go back to when Oliver was born. Sitting there filled with empathy and feeling my anxiety rise, I just wanted to escape, but I couldn't, I was there for Oliver. 
My eyes diverting all over the place, looking at Oliver, looking at the little girls incubator, but then looking at the mum standing over her daughters incubator. Man I can't tell you how I felt, I wanted to talk to her, comfort her, but what would I even say. The tears in her eyes took me back to where I had been at the beginning of Olivers journey. There was a silent acknowledgement when we made eye contact, without a word spoken I belive she knew I was rooting for her baby to make it, and I felt a sence of empathy back towards me.

When she left, I could feel that she didn't want to leave, but she was emotionally a mess. I know what this is like and I could bet most of you reading this know what I mean, sometimes you have to put yourself first.
If your not in a good place, not that you ever are in this situation, but at least trying to keep a stiff upper lip as you were, makes a difference. I do belive the babies get some of there strength from the parents, so trying to be positive and emotionally stable to an extent does have its effects.

Returning in the morning (18th june) was in itself one of the worst feelings I have ever felt. As I walked through the double doors I always looked at Oliver first, but my eyes diverted to the little girls incubator.

It was empty, I instantly knew what had happened, I mean it wasn't hard to work out. I so wanted to be wrong, but I just knew, this ripped me apart inside and it wasn't even my child. I think in that moment I cried, I couldn't shake the feeling all day and even now a year on this moment sticks in my mind.
I asked the nurse on shift what had happend to the little girl, but due to confidentiality she couldn't say, but it was in the way she said it, it confirmed my thoughts.

Again going back to Oliver, I was just Sitting there thinking how lucky I am to have him alive. Through all he had been through, he was still here.
I still think about that woman and how she must be dealing or not dealing with things, so if you are that woman who had a 24wk baby in St Thomas's eveliena London on the 17th June 2020, I hope you are alright.

18th June: same day as the above empty incubator. On my way into Oliver, but on my afternoon visit after the above took place. I spoke to one of the father's on the ward, his boy was oposit Oliver, so we had spoke before briefly, but only in the hello how are you context.
Seeing him this time in the lobby area waiting for the lift, he asked me how my son was doing. I explained he was doing good, he was still having up and down days, but the docs are pleased with his progress and home dosent look to far away, bearing in mind the stoma reversal goes OK. 

He genuinely seemed pleased for me and now I think I know why he asked. Returning the question I also asked how his son was doing. An accward silence fell only for a second, as he gaind his breath and with a shallow, sorrow tone, he explained his son wouldn't be comming home. This hit me like a ton of bricks, wishing I had never asked and wanting to just be swallowed up, but going back to the reason why I think he asked is because I feel he needed to talk about it. I could be wrong, but I genuinly belive he just needed to get it out. Also as we was in the same room he knew that Oliver was doing fairly well, so I also think he just needed to hear some positive news. I get this so much, I'm still on some of the preemie sites on Facebook. I still get upset, but I still look because of the reassurance that some babies make it through.

Carrying on he went onto explain that all they can do now is make him comfortable. Again the empathy and the feelings are unimaginable, all the thoughts go racing through your mind. Will this happen to me, am I going to be this father in a month's time telling some one what he has told me. Its just something you can't comprehend.

He further went onto explain that they have given his son a special room so all the family can go and be with him. By this time I was with mixed emotions, I was so sad by the news of his son, but also so happy that he could be with all his family till the end. Covid had put a stop to this as the rules of the hospital was only mum and dad to visit, and at seperate times.
So to have all the family come in and see him even if it was just to say goodbye, for him must have been a slight weight lifted, I don't know how to possibly word it.
The babies name was Freddie, again I still think about this moment and that chat with his father and I hope he is doing well.
If your babies name was Freddie and you was at St Thomas's hospital london around the 18th June 2020 please get in touch. 

I think my message in doing this digression is to just say, it doesn't even have to be your own child to make you reflect on life. My empathy for anyone going or has gone through this journey is undescribable. 

Please don't hesitate to contact me, even if it's just for a chat. I will listen and I will talk.




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