Six months ‘Maternity Leave’

It’s now January 2023, and next week I go back to work after six months maternity leave. Maternity leave with no baby to look after.

This time last year Robyn was settling into nursery, and I was preparing to go back to work after spending 14 months off with her, I had no idea I was pregnant with Marty at the time (or round about that time!). It's safe to say that the following 12 months have been absolutely nothing like I expected them to be at that time, being pregnant let alone everything else that followed.

What have I done in the last 6 months? What have I learnt? Have I changed? Would I have done anything differently? I’ve tried to get down a few stand out things for me over the last few months, I will undoubtedly have forgotten something but here’s what comes to mind right now…

When we returned from France in late June I said I would get on the spin bike and get myself fit again – I’ve been on the bike about 6 times. I said I’d ‘sort’ Robyn’s sleeping out and get her sleeping in her own bed all night – I haven’t done that. I also haven’t become a domestic goddess which is probably something Mark was hoping for – a spotless home and three home cooked meals a day, nope. I’m not going to regret any of this stuff though because I am content with what I have achieved – I’m ok. That’ll do for me.

Everyone was telling me to take time off work, take time, but how much time? Six months seemed as good a number as any. It saw me past Marty’s due date, and through Christmas, so I went with it. I count myself very lucky that I have been entitled to paid maternity leave so there were no financial worries; just me, and what was best for my family.

When we arrived home our very first condolences gesture was two positive covid tests for Mark and I. I mean, really? Do one. I can’t really remember what the rules were at that time but, we all stayed in and we didn't have any family or friends over until we were clear of it. It was probably exactly what we didn’t need at that time – isolation and choice taken away from us. I’m sure we would have been forgiven for seeing people but rule breaking is not my thing!

During those few days I remember thinking what a mother who’s baby has just died should probably not be thinking but…I couldn’t wait for Robyn to go back to nursery! I just felt like we needed some time together, a rest. We were trying so hard to keep things as normal as possible for her, it was tiring, emotional and unsustainable. That leads me nicely onto my list of things…

Robyn

One of the first decisions to make about my time off – do we keep Robyn at home with me and take her out of nursery? If I’m off, shouldn't I at least be looking after my daughter? Particularly after what’s just happened? Conclusion we came to, no. Practically, she was settled and happy at nursery, we would be disrupting her just to ask her to start it all over again in a few months. And emotionally, my time off was about me having some time for myself, even though I didn't know what that looked like. I don’t think I would have achieved anywhere near the same if I was looking after Robyn every day. I did feel guilty about that at the time; that I had six months off and I wasn’t even looking after her. I had enough support around me though to be convinced it was the right thing to do.

When it comes to Robyn - there is no doubt in our minds that that girl has saved us over the last six months, and will continue to do the same. She has made us smile and laugh every day, she has given us reason to get up and keep going. She is fun, kind and fills this house with love. I don’t think we will ever be able to explain to her how much she has helped us.

Counselling

I did start counselling quite soon after we got home. A recommendation from a friends counsellor lead me to someone who specialises in all things fertility / pregnancy / baby / parenthood - Lucy. I have only seen Lucy about 5 times I think but my conversations with her have been invaluable. I could say anything to her without worrying about her response, or how I might be making her feel. Conversations with Mark or my family were a bit different because they will of course always have their own emotional response to what I feel and say. They are in all of this too. Lucy was 100% an advocate for me, and only me. I got more upset with her than I thought I would, I guess I said a lot out loud for the first time in that room. I always felt totally exhausted after my sessions, sometimes It felt like I just shut down, it was emotionally draining but worth it every time. I haven't been to see her for a while but I know I will end up talking to her again. I’d never seen a counsellor before, and I never thought I’d need to. It isn’t for everyone, but it did something for me.

The T word

I don’t think I’m someone who over dramatises things, unless it’s a hangover. So hearing people say I had been through ‘trauma’ or a ‘traumatic experience’, or that I was in ‘trauma recovery’ didn't feel like something I could connect with. At the beginning I had quite a complex about being off work for six months, I was worried what other people would think, about how I should spend my time, and again what others would think about how I spent my time. But when I allowed myself to admit that I’d experienced trauma, I think that’s what helped me start to move forward. If you say it how it is – we went on holiday to France, I went into labour unexpectedly and gave birth quickly, my son was moved to intensive care in a different city, we were trying to have difficult conversations in a different language, we had to decide when our son should pass away, I held him as he took his last breath, we arranged his cremation, I came home from my holiday holding his ashes.

Ok, that’ll do. That helped me accept that I needed the time off work, I needed Robyn to be in nursery, I needed the counselling. And if I needed any other persuasion it also sort of felt like some damage limitation; I wanted to do it straight away so I didn't need it more urgently in 12 or 24 months time.

Vive La France

We took an opportunity to go back to France within 2 months of our time with Marty. The three of us took the ferry, just as we had done when I was pregnant, we spent time in Nantes and we visited the seaside town where Marty was born. It was a difficult decision at the time, I mean effectively we were going on holiday. Was that what we should be doing? Was that insensitive? It also felt like we were going back to ‘the scene of the crime’ (that’s not the right phrase but you know what I mean). Would we get there and want to leave straight away, would it be too difficult?

France holds many special memories for us and we didn't want that chapter to end. Mark and I had many holidays there, we got engaged there, we took Robyn on her first holiday there. We decided we wanted to have a positive connection to Nantes rather than it being somewhere we try to avoid. Our view is that it was the place where our son lived his short life, so why wouldn’t we want to go there? It was absolutely the right thing for us to do at the time, it wasn’t all easy but I’m very glad we did it. As we approached the city, we drove over a bridge and could see the hospital right in front of us, all of the feeling came rushing back and I did wonder what the hell we were doing to ourselves. But we spent some time in the city, we went back to the beautiful church we’d found and lit another candle, and we took Robyn back to a toy shop she loved. We plan to continue going back. It's actually a very nice city!

Helpless support

I quickly realised that we weren’t the only people who felt helpless. We had a lot of people around us who loved us and really wanted to help but there was nothing they could do. All they could do was be there, physically and on the end of a phone, and we’re grateful for that. We felt so pleased that we had a full church for the memorial service we held for Marty when we got home. People didn't know what to do, but they showed up for us, and travelled from far and wide to be there.

People haven't forgotten us or left us behind. The messages, the little check ins and spending time with us is all we really need from everyone.

Socialising

I’ve written before about not really wanting to go out. And six months in there is still an element of that. I think I feel very protective of myself, still quietly fragile, a feeling of guilt, I’ll commit to the things I want to and there may seem to be no rhyme or reason to my decisions – I’ve never been one for peer pressure but I certainly won't go for it right now. I’ve been out in the evening on my own (as in, without Mark, not totally alone!) twice since having Marty. Once for a meal for a friends birthday, and once for a Christmas meal.

I remember sitting at the table for my friends birthday at the end of September. Just six of us, I felt relaxed, I had a couple of glasses of wine. But I looked around sometimes as the girls were chatting about what they’ve been up to, nights out, dates, work gossip, funny stories, and I just wasn’t in the same place as them. I was off on maternity leave,  and had that familiar feeling of ‘I have no news. Zero to add to this conversation’. But I couldn’t even give some cute baby story. I couldn’t console myself with the fact I’d been very busy doing the most important job in the world – looking after a child. Maternity leave can feel like a lonely place at the best of times.

Points of importance

Certain things have become important to me and I’m not sure why.

To avoid social awkwardness I have a handful of times hurriedly told someone that I ‘lost my baby’. I knew they thought I’d had a miscarriage, but I didn’t, Marty was born and he was with is for 7 days. I don’t really know why it matters to me what these probably random people think but, it does. And I don’t want that to sound like there is some kind of hierarchy to loss but it’s just something that has become important to me.

I don’t expect or want people to talk about Marty all of the time, that can feel tokenistic, but don’t ignore his existence. Don’t forget about him. I appreciate that can be a difficult one to get right, it is even for us.

Marty Matters

A lot of people talk about ‘processing’ what has happened, I’ve never liked that phrase. I know what people are trying to say, and I’ve probably said it myself loads of times in the past. But I’m not a machine, there is no start and end to this ‘process’. I won’t be hitting the eject button in a few months when I’m all processed and fixed. What has happened to me will be a part of me forever, and has changed me forever. Marty will be a part of me forever. It's harder than you’d think to write that. The best thing I can do is make sure it, he, changes me and my family for the better. And we are trying our hardest to do that.

Any ‘processing’ I have done has definitely been through Marty Matters. I think that my writing has been the best thing I’ve done over the last 6 months. For me personally, I’m not blowing my own trumpet! I have always enjoyed writing, ever since I was at school. In recent years I’ve been more used to writing corporate documents though than pouring my heart out onto a page.

Writing Marty Matters has gently but closely walked me through the details of each day of Marty’s life, again and again, as I go from memories to bullet points, bullet points to sentences, and sentences to a full daily piece. Walking through it, and reading it over and over again before hitting ‘publish’ (although people still find typos, damn it!). If I hadn’t had time off work, I wouldn’t have written as much as I have, I wouldn’t have relived, and I don’t believe I would be able to move forward as positively as I hope I now can.

Talking of hitting ‘publish’. That’s a pretty weird feeling, very personal and intimate moments are out there now, for anyone to see. I’ve tried to forget about that as I write, otherwise I don’t think I’d be doing the whole story justice. I have had my eyes opened to how many people have different baby rollercoasters – from worrying about when you try and planning your life around it (been there), to taking a long time to get pregnant, miscarriage, missed miscarriage, infertility, terminating a pregnancy for medical reasons, IVF. People are making babies, or trying to, all of the time so why is so much of it not talked about. People’s journeys are so different yet all we ever seem to hear about is women who stop taking the pill and get pregnant the following month! I think we should be more open about all of this stuff. Why did I feel scared to tell people that my son had died? That shouldn’t be the case, I shouldn’t have been running out of shops to avoid people. I understand that not everyone wants their story on social media posts, but if they want to talk about it then they should be able to, they shouldn’t feel isolated. Hopefully Marty’s story has helped this in some small way. I must admit, each like and comment and hit on my website does give me a little ping of excitement, so thank you for that!

Sorry this has ended up much longer than I expected, well done if you’ve reached the end! I saw a quote while writing this “This is your January reminder to approach your goals gently and with intention; one step, one thing, and one day at a time.” Hello 2023, Same Jo - bit different x

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