I’ve been thinking alot the last few days about the time I gave birth to our beautiful son . Nineteen months ago now ,how time flies !
He wasn’t in any hurry so I was induced and forty eight hours later after the usual birth discomforts that every woman feels ,Joel decided to make his entrance . We cried and gazed and laughed ,cried some more, continously gazed while the doctors and midwife did what they had to do . To be honest ,we forgot they were there and only realised when one of the amazing doctors that helped this beautiful babs come into the world ,told me that I had to go theatre for a common simple procedure .
So a very tired Daddy took himself off to the loo and our little guy was placed in a crib .
Before Daddy got back ,I was wheeled out of the delivery room and down the hall . I looked back and I wanted to grab Joel and bring him with me . He was wrapped in the blue blanket and left alone .I knew it was only going to be for a minute or two but he was alone nonetheless and I hated it .In the lift ,with the very pleasant hospital orderlies chatting over me ,my heart sank ,I had carried him for nine months ,held him for ten minutes and missed him like I never knew you could miss someone before .
Three hours later ,he’s back in my arms ,he’s wriggling and making those baby noises that melt your heart .My husband is holding my hand and my phone in the bedside locker is buzzing constantly ,everyone wants to wish us well ,see our son and just share our happiness .
A happy ending to a nine month pregnancy . I’m extremely lucky .
Let’s all think about a young mother in Tuam . The 1950s . It’s not that long ago . Frightened . Traumatised . Worried beyond words . No kind and gentle partner to hold her hand and encourage her through each and every gruelling pain . Tears as she held her newborn for the first time but also knowing it may be the last or perhaps just for the breast feeding purposes ,knowing that never will that little person ever call her mammy . The pain of that heartache must be a thousand times more painful than a labour pain .
No special tea and toast and being told that he has your eyes . No relatives trying to sneak into the hospital outside of visiting hours just so they can hold this new precious family member and to tell Mammy how amazing she is .
Just sadness ,loneliness and deep despair .
Their precious babies but not their babies . Taken and left in the ground .
Our hearts break as we hear the news reports ,read the newspapers and talk about it to others . Heart ache is not enough though , it’s not compassion and sympathy that these forgotten babies and innocent mothers need . They need justice . We need to help get them justice . We need to scream it from the rooftops ,this silent Ireland needs to speak up . I urge everyone to follow the stories , have your voice heard and to promise ourselves that all the those beautiful babies will not be forgotten again .
The people of the cloth will never ,ever dictate again .
Let’s all light a candle in our homes ,for those that 1950s repressed Ireland wanted us to forget X x.