Remember, remember the fifth of November is what most people in the UK will be saying today. Bonfire night is the most significant date in November for many. Not for us. For us, our significant day is on Thursday, the 8th.
It’s the day we go back to the hospital. It’s the day we finally get a chance to face those who let us down on that terrible day in July. I started today with a very long list of questions I want to ask but I think I’ve narrowed it down:
Why didn’t you save him?
You could have saved him.
Why didn’t you even try?
If you look on Wikipedia it says:
“placental abruption is a significant contributor to maternal mortality worldwide; early and skilled medical intervention is needed to ensure a good outcome”
I’m lucky to be here. I know that. I bled, in front of the Midwife, who failed to take action. That decision could have cost my toddler his mummy and cost my husband his wife.
It cost Elijah his life.
It’s going to be a long week until Thursday and tonight, as people launch rockets up to the sky, I’m going to think how I need to stick a rocket up the backsides of those who failed us. I need to try and make sure this horrific tragedy never happens to anyone else, ever again.
Thursday will be our fireworks day.