DR VIJAY’S SOLEMN expression gave the game away, and our world crumbled. Before she delivered the bombshell news, Pamela and I were full of the joys of life.
We’d travelled to South Tipperary General Hospital in Clonmel for the first scans of our unborn child, happily reminiscing about how we had been down this road before, with Paul. ‘I’ll be as big as a house,’ Pam remarked with a smile.
It was all so exciting as we looked forward to the little person that would be joining us at the end of February 2012.
Pam sat up on the bed and Dr Vijay applied the gel for the ultrasound. We were greeted by what I can only describe as a black blob on the screen. Sadly, we didn’t see what we were hoping to.
Dr Vijay took a few measurements and we could sense that there was something very wrong. I made eye contact with Pam, trying to reassure her that everything would be OK, but fearing the worst.
Dr Vijay brought us upstairs for another scan which confirmed her suspicions. Pam had suffered a missed miscarriage. We believed that she was three months’ pregnant, but the foetus hadn’t developed beyond nine weeks.
I was praying that we would wake up soon and realize that this was all just a bad dream, but no, this was devastating reality. I was angry, hurt and extremely worried about Pam. She wasn’t just sad, she was petrified, and in floods of tears.
As Pamela got dressed privately, I asked Dr Vijay if there was any hope.
‘I’m afraid not,’ she replied, gently. ‘What happens next?’ ‘We have to take what’s left inside out. We’ll perform another scan next week and then we will perform a D&C.’ Also known as dilation and curettage, D&C is a surgical procedure often performed after a first trimester miscarriage.
‘If there is anything in there,’ Dr Vijay added, ‘we have to give it to you.’ ‘What are the chances of something being in there?’ I asked. ‘She is gone a bit in the pregnancy, I won’t know until I go in.’
The little life that we created hadn’t made it. At the time, I didn’t realize that anywhere between 10 to 25 per cent of pregnancies will end in miscarriage.
We would later discover a secret society of people who also carry this pain. I would mention what had happened to us to close friends and some would tell us that it had also happened to them. I could see the relief in their eyes, that they could talk about this too.
But right there and then, it was without doubt the worst experience of my entire life. Expectant parents are supposed to skip through those hospital doors and emerge with a little picture of their future son or daughter as a souvenir.
They’ll smile at other people in the waiting room and everything is so right with the world. But when Mammy and Daddy come out of that first room with pained expressions, and then go upstairs, there’s a serious problem. That’s exactly where we found ourselves.
I still struggle with the memories of that mid-August morning. We drove back to Ardfinnan with tears in our eyes. At home, we sat on the sofa and wondered why this had happened to us.
I was far more concerned for Pamela’s wellbeing as I don’t think any father truly connects with his unborn child until he feels it kicking for the first time. I was sad that I wouldn’t get to experience that sensation again but, my God, imagine how Pam or any other woman feels in that situation.
And in the back of my mind, I was thinking what on earth would happen if Dr Vijay did find some thing during the D&C procedure.
I was also dreading the conversations we would have with the people close to us when we broke the news. To make matters worse, I was due to play in the All-Ireland semi-final in forty-eight hours’ time – but that game was a distant dot in my consciousness. In fact, it didn’t even exist.
My left eye was killing me because I’d taken a terrible whack at training the night before. Towards the end of the session we had a drill where a forward would run in from the 20-metre line before hitting a shot at goal, with a defender applying fierce pressure.
Bonner Maher was tackled hard and he threw up the ball to swing one-handed. The sliotar penetrated the bars of my faceguard and struck me flush in the eye. There was a little bleeding but I got it iced before leaving Semple Stadium and again at home that night. When I woke the next morning, my eye was almost closed but I didn’t think it would present any major problems come Sunday.
What had happened in the meantime rendered a game of hurling utterly insignificant. The prospect of playing or not didn’t cross my mind because it wasn’t something I was even thinking about at the time. And yet, despite everything that she was going through, Pamela insisted that I had to.
We decided that I would, but that it should all be over as quickly as possible and I would be back home in a safe place on Sunday evening. I would now represent much more than Tipperary hurling. I would play for Pamela, for Paul, and the memory of that little light that had been extinguished.
Somehow I had to switch into match mode because nobody sitting in the stands at Croke Park would have any idea about what had happened to us. Even if they did, their only real concern would be whether Tipperary would win against Dublin – and if I couldn’t handle that, I couldn’t play.
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I had ball in hand when the full-time whistle went and I belted it towards the upper deck of the Cusack Stand. I didn’t know that I was being photographed at the time but I saw a picture later that captured the moment when I released a torrent of pent-up emotion.
I looked like some kind of mad man, hurl clenched in left hand, right hand raised to the heavens, my black eye clearly visible through the faceguard.
To the naked eye, it looked to all intents and purposes like the reaction of a man relieved to have come through such a tight game, but there was so much more to it than that. It was as if nobody was in the stadium and I was there alone.
My mind had been with Pam through the entire game, and when I cleared that final ball, I knew she would be happy.
These are extracts from ‘Standing My Ground’ – The Brendan Cummins Autobiography. More information available here.
O Donohoe has balls of steel. Cometh the hour, cometh the man.
Galway seemed to have more quality but that Mayo hunger and never say die got them over the line again.
Great match to start the league
@Noel Lynn: again? Do they get over the lone a lot?
Maybe if Mayo had brought Enoch Burke in to the forward line they might have benefitted from his ability to create havoc and take a score. As it was, Galway gifted Mayo the draw by giving the ball away when in possession in the last play. We don’t mind throwing them a few crumbs now and again.
@Brendan Daniel Naughton: Galway defence is poor.Needs serious restructuring if we’re to get to an All Ireland final.
Cillian’s score was with his left foot, not fisted.
The author’s omission of the awarding of Galways last free is poor. The player slipped but good auld Joe Mc Q seen a foul. He does try God love him.
@Noel Lynn: was standing right beside it took his legs
@Noel Lynn: still blaming referees for previous defeats and current draws I see…drop that attitude and mayo might just win an all ireland in the next decade
@Noel Lynn: The free O’Donoghue won of Glynn was a pure con altogether, so I wouldn’t worry too much about any miscarriage of justice
@Colman Kelly: u see what I wanna see. Very clear on tv, no trip, he slipped
@Noel Lynn: you said it…you see what you wanna see. You didn’t want to see it was a foul
@Noel Lynn: Mayo drew?
Great game for the first round of the league. Mayo need a few more scoring forwards to reward all their great play.
@Richie Murphy: agreed and need more direct play. That over and back shite is costing the 50%more scores
@Noel Lynn: totally agree as a mayo man I would worry bout that come championship Galway were way better breaking through our defence with runners something mayo found hard to do
The black card needs to be amended to take into account the stoppages. This craic of laying on the floor for 3 minutes every free to kill time is ruining the flow of the game.
What was the point of bringing on aiden o shea on?
@itzme: to give him a run I assume?
Will never tire of seeing Mayo
putting Galway back in their box!
@James Flynn: they didn’t though and they never have put us back in our box or any box . #bottlers
@Finnster: ha knew I’d tempt you out Finnster!
Bottlers? you’d know Galway
hurlers record?
They invented the word
@James Flynn: 26062 days and counting lad
The GAA and the draw….