Minimouse, you're so right that I didn't have the chance to grieve for my 'perfect' baby. DD2's birth was horrendous - at least the aftermath was; it was an elective c-section because she was an oblique lie AND feet first (typical!) and the young doctor attending went white when he saw her and clearly was out of his depth in dealing with it. In fact I felt for him - he was shaking as he brought her to show us, asked DH to sit down (DH had noticed nothing at that stage) and then told us there were several problems and abnormalities. We listened in a haze of disbelief; it felt as if it was happening to someone else. All I could say was, 'What did I do?' because I thought it was my fault. The theatre sister's response was, 'Oh, we've got a great plastic surgeon - you should see the messes he's had to clear up!' and that was the start of our journey...nobody knew what it was, doctors came to see her but nobody sat down with me and held my hand and let me cry or asked me how I was feeling. I didn't think I was allowed to grieve. We were so frightened; didn't know whether she'd be mentally affected, what the future held, what she would be able to do...our 'normal' life with our little family felt shattered to smithereens then. I was in hospital with her for nearly 4 weeks - all we wanted was to be reunited with DD1 and be a family, and DH found it incredibly difficult to bond with DD2 for a while because he just saw her when he visited us in hospital. I didn't want to go home without DD2 though because I knew she needed me, and I wanted to breastfeed her (which proved incredibly difficult but we did it in the end). Once home, things weren't much better - multiple hospital visits to try and sort the problems out, and nobody offering emotional support for our little family. Well, nothing unusual there, I guess!
I'd better stop as I could go on and on about the lack of support from the medics and the ignorant comments they often made....then there was our local curate, who, seeing DD2 for the first time when I brought her to the toddler group because I helped with the music there, quipped, 'What shall we do with this little one, then? Rub her out and start again?'
That hurt beyond words - as did many other similar, but I had to get on with it and work at giving her the very best life possible and make sure she always knew she was very dearly loved, as much as her sister.
So no....guess it still feels raw, after thirty years. How pathetic that must sound, and I know there are plenty of mothers who go through far, far more difficult births and whose babies suffer more than we did. We survived as a family, but it's left its mark on me, though I can't say it's the cause of my mental health problems now because I've never felt 'ok' about myself, not really.
You weren't tactless at all: I just hope that mothers whose babies are born with problems are treated with far more compassion and empathy than I was, and that things have improved, but I suspect this is far from the case.
GillT57- I'm not exactly active, but I do try to get out into nature as much as possible, and gardening helps - at the time - though it doesn't stop the horrible feelings or the ensuing guilt. How old is your son, and does he talk to you about how he's feeling? I know so well that 'early hours' anxiety about one's child.....somehow, the wee small hours magnify everything, don't they? If he's communicating his feelings to someone - whether it's to a counsellor, friend or to you - that is a positive sign. I hope his university are keeping an eye on him. Are you able to communicate with his personal tutor if you are worried? That can be tricky because students are regarded more as adults, so confidentiality can be an issue, but if they know that depression is flagged up, then hopefully that awareness will help somewhat and reassure you too.
I hope he continues to improve - it sounds very positive that he's taking steps to help himself 