Last Friday our little girl had her 1st birthday, to give you an insight into what life has been like I’ll have to go back a bit further. Our little girl was indeed a miracle, everyone thinks their child is a miracle and I tend to agree but she really was. I’m no young mum, I’m 44 now with a 1 year old and having been pregnant and parented in my 20’, 30’s and 40’s I can tell you categorically that 40’s is big especially when you are for all intents and purposes flying solo for the foreseeable. Before she was born we had 3 missed miscarriages in the space of 2 years and that was hard to bounce back from and when we found out I was expecting again it was filled with fear, almost an expectation that the “I’m sorry to tell you scan” will be there to ruin the dream. Because of my history I got the early blood test, then as that was ok a scan at just over 4 weeks and a scan at 6 weeks and there was a heartbeat and you hope but you kind of know that through experience that’s not a guarantee and I was booked to go back at 8 weeks. Those 2 weeks between 6 and 8 weeks were to set the tone for what has evolved but I had no idea just what was coming.
Rob is a loving guy, he loves me, he loves our family and he certainly loves our latest addition, he’s not perfect, far from it and a history of offending and issues with alcohol have featured heavily in his life and yet again it was to play a part in this.
It was a stressful time and anyone who has miscarried will tell you how hard it is to enjoy a further pregnancy, you are constantly in fear, we both felt it but as individuals we deal with that in different ways. We went to visit Rob’s mum who was very poorly and it became clear that she was at the end of her battle and that naturally was hard for Rob to see and process. At the same time my mum was also terminally ill and that was in the mix also and Rob had taken a job that he hated and Christmas was around the corner, all in all we had a lot to juggle and he was at that time only 6 months out from his last recall.
I’ve not shared that to minimise what Rob did to get recalled, he was recalled because he did something wrong and I can’t and won’t dismiss that, I just wanted you to be aware of a bit of background.
To cut to it Rob went to the pub by himself and he drank and he got into a moment where he reacted to what he felt was an insult from another person out drinking and he hit him. He was arrested and charged with common assault, the first I knew about it after a sleepless night of worry and fear was when I got the withheld number call on my phone at 8.13am on Sunday morning from the custody suite. Right then my world changed, I knew that he was going to return to custody and I knew it would be for an unspecified time and it would not be a few weeks or months. I was 7 weeks and 4 days pregnant and I was just about to go it alone.
Rob was charged with a common assault and a public disorder offence and summonsed to appear in front of the magistrates within a few weeks, rarely for an IPP though he was bailed and not straight recalled and we did have 2 days to get things sorted before he was inevitably recalled, he was taken from our home at 6.30pm on the Monday evening and transferred to prison the next day. That day I had my 8-week scan and I went full of all sorts of emotions expecting the worse but there it was a solid heartbeat and for the smallest of moments things were good.
That was November 2018, Rob video linked to the local magistrates from custody in early December, plead guilty and received a 6-week sentence, that’s irrelevant though if you are an IPP and as we roll into July 2020 he’s still serving that sentence, 20 months on and with no guarantee when it will finish.
Looking back how I faced this was damaging to me, I was reeling, full of hormones, tired and angry, I was so angry with Rob. I did something that I wish now I hadn’t done but at the time it seemed logical. I hid my pregnancy from my family and my children. I had my 12 week scan just before Christmas, that’s a milestone scan and it was good, I went alone and I broke down on the radiographer when she said it was all ok. It was Christmas and I didn’t want to ruin Christmas so I kept it to myself, then new year came and I wasn’t going to ruin that either so again I kept it to myself. My mum had terminal cancer and I was frightened that it would make it worse for her worrying about me if I told my secret, so I kept it to myself. My eldest son who was 19 in February was in a big production at school as part of his A-levels, I couldn’t add stress to that so yes, again I kept it to myself. I was now big, hiding behind coats and scarves, winter definitely was my friend but the stress was massive and I was having a really difficult pregnancy.
It was just before my 20-week scan and I couldn’t keep it going and I told my mum, the relief was palpable and she did what all good mums would do, she put her arms around me and said it would be ok. I should have known and I should have told and I made it harder for me by not saying.
10 weeks later on good Friday 2019 my mum died, I was 30 weeks pregnant.
I had a high-risk pregnancy and pretty much camped at that hospital, I was scanned weekly sometimes more and had numerous consultants and finally went to be induced at 38 weeks. Again, in a state of irrationality I decided that I wanted to go alone. I couldn’t have Rob and I couldn’t have my mum so that was that, I was going to sacrifice myself and make it even harder. I had offers but I was determined.
From the night I arrived in with my little pulley suitcase and carrying my empty car seat I looked lost and it was all over my notes what had happened, my sorry story and the staff were great, I was put away from everyone else and just wanted to get this done, I had no real connection with it, I just wanted to get home with my baby and having her was just a procedure. What happened next was shocking even by my standards. She had a big problem with her heart rate and after lots of people came to see it they moved me into the labour ward so I could be constantly monitored.
I got a call from Rob, 25 minutes as that was how long it was before the dreaded beeps and I lay there alone.
My waters were broken the next morning and that's when the problems really began to show she was struggling, really struggling and no one could quite work out why. At this point my sister called and within minutes she was there and as more and more people arrived it was realised that I had a prolapsed cord and they had a very short window of opportunity to get her out. I remember being told I was going now, I remember a nurse holding my hand as a team rushed me through to surgery and telling me they would look after us and that was it, I was put to sleep, a true emergency c- section.
The first person in our family to see our daughter was my sister, she held her, she loved her whilst I was being attended to, I came around almost 2 hours after I left that room and my sister was stood there with her, safe, warm and here. Every bit of anger I felt for Rob was gone I just wanted to see him, to share her but it was not going to happen.
That was her entrance into our lives, that was my pregnancy and birth with a partner in custody and it was not the stuff you dream of, it was not how it was supposed to be.
Since she was born I’ve not shared minute of her life with Rob outside of a prison. The things you usually share I haven’t, no baby shopping, no pregnancy shoot together, no milestones shared, no first Christmas together, no first birthday, I have two pictures of us all together, both taken on family days in prison.
Rob was refused release when she was 3 months old and the parole board directed that he should be tested further.
Rob’s not been tested in the way the parole board directed and as difficult as custody can be its not anything new to him, if anyone has been tested by that decision to refuse release it has been me. I’m not a single parent, I have a partner who wants to be with his family however I am living my life as a single parent and like every other single parent it can be a challenge. Everything sits with me, all the responsibilities all the decisions. There is no day off, no person to take on a night feed or help out in other ways, the parenting test is all on me. I could probably plan more if I knew when it was over, if I had a date to put in a countdown app on my phone or something but I don’t. Her 1st birthday has been a milestone and she’s started walking too so that’s more fun to deal with but it’s been hard to keep that bond going with her dad; he is missing out, I’m missing and she is too. There was no joint memory made, he sat in his cell and I spent the day with her and the others. Don’t get me wrong it was a nice day, she loved her presents and who doesn’t like birthday cake but yet again it was tainted.
No visits and limited contact take their toll and I know that its testing our love and will to succeed to the maximum and her 1st birthday followed by Father’s Day 2 days later has kind of knocked me. It’s hard to keep that constant faith, it’s hard to not be able to pick up a phone, it’s hard to do it all yourself and keep a smile for your sake, your children’s sake and for his sake and it doesn’t always happen, sometimes you break and you cry and you doubt everything you think you know. You can feel yourself drifting apart, you can feel your life carrying on and his staying static and you feel helpless, unable to stop it and you start to feel guilt for living a life without him. It’s irrational I know but that’s how an indeterminate sentence gets you, Rob has always wanted me to make the most of my life whilst he is away, and when he’s here as well, to do things with the kids and make memories and I do but this weekend I’ve found out I'm not as tough as I thought I was and just for a fleeting moment doubting if I can pass the test.