I received a very lovely message this morning from somebody that I used to work with. She had made a donation on my Just Giving page, so I wrote to thank her. Her reply had me in tears (and I really hope she doesn’t mind me sharing):
You’re welcome Lisa. It’s a tragic time for you. This is just some small way that I can support your time of grief. I’m really happy that you were able to keep your uterus and that you will in time go on to have more children. I believe you will be a really great mother….that you ARE a really great mother. But even as you give birth to and raise other children in the future, at the same time, we can never forget the little soul who blessed your life for too short a time. He’s your #1 and always will be. Finley may not be here today on this earth, but he’ll always live in your heart as the child you loved first. Too many people want to avoid this uncomfortable topic, but I know it is foremost in your mind and will be for a long while yet to come, perhaps forever. And that’s okay. Your cause will help you to get through this difficult time. It gives you purpose. It keeps Finley’s memory alive. I will light a candle in Finley’s honour because I know his light will never go out in your world. Once again, my thoughts are with you. Stay strong. You’re doing a great service to your son!
How could she know exactly what it is that I needed to hear? The level of understanding she has shown is truly amazing.
She’s right when she says that people want to avoid this uncomfortable topic. And she is also right when she says that it is always foremost in my mind. How could it not be? I spent 9 months preparing to be a mummy. Bonding with my baby. Getting everything ready to bring him home. Preparing myself to give him the best upbringing that I could manage. Those feelings don’t just go away because he died. In fact, I think it makes it worse, because now I still have all of the thoughts, wondering what it would be like. And I will never get to find out. I will never get to raise him and see him grow up. It’s like I am a mother with nobody to be a mother to…almost a mother?
It makes me sad that it is an uncomfortable topic for people…it reminds me of another conversation I was having the other day. Another mother who had lost a baby read my blog and said she was amazed to find that there were others out there who feel like she does. We started talking about how it’s amazing that once you lose a baby, that a whole little world opens up around you. People that you’ve known start to open up and share their own losses. People that you had no idea had gone through something so horrific. And you realise how it is so much more common than you realise. I said that it was part of the reason I want to write my blog – to try to raise some kind of awareness and for people to hopefully see that it’s ok to talk about these feelings.
Her reply was (and again, I hope she doesn’t mind me sharing):
I felt the same way—why should I feel ‘ashamed’ to talk about my child…he was a baby, a real baby-that I had…I have to talk about him…so I do. I see some people get uncomfortable but I listen to their stories about their children. I simple say, I have 2 daughters here with me and a son in heaven waiting for me. It shouldn’t be taboo, it is too common. SADLY to common. If we lost our childen when they were older, it is acceptable to talk, people understand more. But a baby is the most innocent, precious thing in this world…why do we get ‘those looks’. Is it misunderstanding or making them uncomfy or is it fright on their part??? I just don’t know.
And I have no answer. None at all. It certainly shouldn’t be that way, and it wouldn’t be if more people could empathise with how it feels. So I am going to continue to share my feelings. I need to do what’s right for me.
I miss my boy, I always will. Losing him is not something that I will EVER get over.
That’s why I was so grateful for the message of support that I got this morning. Somebody understands.