Disclaimer: Isla is fine!!! This is a flashback!
So this isn’t exactly what I’d planned to write about or been working on. I was going through my notes on my phone and stumbled upon a poem I wrote exactly 3 years ago today… so I thought I’d share it. Writing it at the time made me feel so guilty for even thinking it, and that’s stayed with me. I hope by sharing it I can get some closure from it. To me it is a reminder that you never know someone’s true thoughts. On the outside I was always so positive and upbeat about her chances. This was my deepest inner thought borne from fear…
It came from a dark time when we had just been scanned and told that Isla wouldn’t survive. I remember driving home from St Mary’s crying my eyes out, barely able to see the motorway. The thought of never meeting my baby girl broke me. I just wanted to play with her and for her to know happiness. I remember saying to Kerry I just wanted to give her a ball to play with in her womb. Hearing, “Your baby has heart failure and isn’t going to make it,” was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to hear.
We were told there would be a 1 in a million chance she could survive, and I always clung on to that hope. However, a small part of me was also preparing for the worst. I think I’ve only ever shared this with 2 people, and I’m so glad I didn’t have to ever use it. A part of me is embarrassed I ever wrote it. It was the 1% of me getting ready for the worst to happen.
So this is it.
This is my girl
For 28 weeks she grew and she grew,
Love and affection are all that she knew,
She’ll never know hurt and she’ll never know pain,
She just heard her mummy and daddy whisper her name,
Happily playing in her safe little bubble,
Kicking her mum without getting in trouble,
We won’t hear her voice or the sound of her laugh,
All that we’ve got is a small photograph,
A life not begun, but never forgotten,
Rest in peace my baby angel
Isla Lauren Hutton.
This is my girl.