17th October 2018

My dearest Aoibh

For some reason today I keep think of all the times during my pregnancy when I described myself as ‘lucky’.

I felt lucky at your 20 week scan when the radiographer made the decision to refer to cardiology even though she said it just a precaution as you kept wriggling too much to allow her to see 100% of your heart. I felt lucky that your Dad insisted on coming with me to the cardiology appointment when I wanted to go myself as I was sure that the doctor would tell us that all was ok. I especially felt lucky that the cardiologist spotted your heart defect despite your determination to make it as difficult as possible with constant wriggling and moving away from the doctor’s touch.

Following your death I ridiculed that old me, so naive and stupid to consider myself as lucky when I felt like the unluckiest person in the world. I felt that all those previous experiences of ‘luck’ were utterly irrelevant as ultimately the outcome which I thought we had managed to avoid through early detection of your diagnosis still came to be.

Thankfully that fog of negativity has lifted slightly. As I sit and reflect now, and although it would be all too easy to describe myself using a multitude of words other than lucky, I think the description still stands.

I feel lucky for having met you, for having two precious days with you, and most importantly lucky that you chose me to have the privilege of being your mother and bringing you into this world.

Forever yours

Mum xx