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Bereavement

I need to express it this year, they killed 53 people on 7/7, not 52

72 replies

HappyDoll · 07/07/2011 12:56

I was 22 weeks pg that day. DS1 was 5 and had been born at 26 weeks. I knew I should have been taking it easy but DH was embroiled in a bitter battle for access to DSD and we had hired a top solicitor to help him. He needed to get the train into London to meet her and he needed my support.
I know now that I have an incompetent cervix and I should rest up from 20 weeks. At the time my instincts were telling me to rest.
We got the train to Liverpool Street and were stopped just outside as the first bomb went off. We were so lucky not to have been 10 minutes earlier and been on that tube. My phone was going mad with people checking I was OK.
We got off the train and got on a bus to Kings Cross. We tried to get on a tube and couldn't. So we got on another bus heading to Russell Square. The bus in front of us exploded. The bus driver got off and started screaming at everyone to get off. The was a major scrum. The phones had all gone down.
We got to the solicitors offices in Mayfair on foot. We had our appointment and then DH set about trying to hire a car. The price had shot up to £5k. We searched by phone for a taxi, no hope. We went outside to deserted streets with people crowding around televisions parked in shop doorways. It was surreal. We asked police for help they said there was nothing that could be done. We went to a hotel, they had no room but they had lines of taxis. DH offered a taxi driver £500 to drive us out of London, he said he was earning more sat in that queue - the hotels bought up all the black cabs for their own clients.
We got through to BIL who happened to be working in town that day but we had to walk to Camden to get to him as he couldn't get in.
The next day I was admitted to hospital. My cervix had begun to open, infection had got into my womb and DDs foot was visible through an internal exam. The stress, both physical and emotional and sent me into early labour.
I was in bed in the delivery suite for 2 weeks, getting stitched, unstiched, strapped down and pumped full of drugs. On 22nd July, at 23 weeks + 6 days, my daughter Freya was born. She was not 24 weeks gestation so no attempt was made to save her life.
I have never expressed how much I blame those fucking maniacs for the death of my daughter. What they did to those innocent people on the tubes and the bus was horrific. This is the year that I want it known that Freya's name should also be on that list of needless deaths for which they are responsible.

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MarthasHarbour · 07/07/2013 20:46

Thinking of you and your beautiful Freya today.

Lots of love xx