I have been told this so many times in the past few days.
But I do not feel loved.
I feel that our loss has made us stranger than a stranger to those who surround us.
I am odd, a misfit, a foreigner, as in “a person not belonging to a particular place or group; an outsider.”
When Georgie died, I wanted to make sense of his death. I wanted his death not to be in vain. I wanted his death to have a reason. To have an explanation. To lead to something noble.
But then, I came face to face with the cruel reality. The reality is that death is not a subject we talk about as a society. It is a taboo. It is a nuisance. It is a too much in the face of comfort a subject.
Death is classed as inappropriate in “civilised” conversation. Pick the weather, the seasonal trends or the pets. But not death. Never death. Death is not a comfortable subject, not even in church, not even in the presence of the good news gospel. Death remains marginal a subject, even if it is the unavoidable entrance door to Heaven. Death has become prejudiced against in church. The unexplainable, unfair, cruel death of a baby or a child, even more so.
We have become so sold to the idea of miracles and signs and wonders and the supernatural, we are so thirsty for fairytale, happy endings that death inconveniences. Even in church. And especially in the happy, clappy, “Spirit-driven” church.
Death inconveniences so much that, silence follows it unequivocally. Just like a parent teaches predominantly through body language and non-verbal cues, the church teaches its people through its silence.
And I feel that, like in The Lord of the Flies, the community of believers, in the absence of a discourse and driven by the silence of their leaders, proceed to draw their own conclusions and follow the pack instinct.
The odd-ones out, the misfits, the (eye) sores, the “depressed”, are eliminated from the community of “normals” as weaklings, as monstrosities. Just like in the olden days disabled babies would have been thrown off cliffs because they didn’t fit the norm, these days I feel Christians whose lives did not produce a miracle through prayer and faith(oh yeah, the big F word!) are pushed off the edge of the hope cliff by silence.
If miracles are the expectation, the rule, the norm, the desired outcome, then the ones without a miracle are monstrously misfitting and need smoothed out, like an annoying wrinkle on the ironing board.
I have been doing a lot of thinking. A lot of accepting. A lot of coming to terms with.
I need to say this out loud.
Death is part of life. Death will come for all of us. Death is the exit door for us all, sooner or later.
I have known the pain of death. I have thought it would be the greatest pain there ever was. But the silence is worse. I know it now.
P.S.- my baby has been dead five months today. He lived for only five and a five months so we are facing Christmas as the month when Georgie would have been in heaven for longer than he has been on earth. Please don’t be silent about it!
Mama's Haven 
I am sending lots of love and prayers.
I wanted to make an odd ‘comparison’ from reading your post, I heard Grenglish read her post at Britmums, about miscarriage, another taboo subject, where the ‘other person/ friend’ almost makes assumptions about you, and of course I cried, and then it helped me so much when a member of my team at work suffered a miscarriage, rather than avoid the subject or to assume she would find it too difficult to talk about, we talked and still do. I hope I was a comfort, an ear, rather than a boulder.
I think people think they’re being kind by making these assumptions for you, that you won’t want to talk, that it’s too painful, but only by us ‘outsiders’ reading such a beautiful and honest blog that you write will we be able to offer the right support to those we meet.
I am so sorry you are finding it so tough, I think Georgie is making a huge difference through his life, because you are helping so many to come to terms with how to be a friend- I know you have the pain barrier to overcome in this, but you are paving the way.. be strong, take care, and remember so many are sending their strength to you and yours. xx
Debbie, uncomfortable subjects always lead to people choosing silence. It is more convenient to them. Bu you did well and I am sure your colleague appreciated you talking about the loss of her precious baby.
I hope I am helping. I hope I am trailing a path so that I can spare other ones, who find themselves on the mourning journey, some of the pain we have to deal with at the moment.
Thank you very much for taking the time to reply, empathise and encourage. This is what soothes and gives comfort! Thank you!xx
I would like to give you a big big hug but as it is not possible I send you a virtual one!!!
People don’t know how to behave with those who are suffering or have big pain. When my father had cancer my mum’s friend (they have been friends for 50+ years) just stopped visiting and phoning my parents so they did not have to deal with my dad’s illness. I wonder how would they feel if one day they have to face cancer in their own family (and I hope they won’t have to). When my dad died almost nobody said anything. But death should be talked about. It is part of our lives. It is happening sooner or later in everyone’s life in one form or another. People should feel free to talk about their loved ones they lost and they should be remembered. Don’t stop talking about your sweet boy, he will always be part of your life. I remember a lot my little baby I lost before ever seeing him/her, at just 12 weeks of pregnancy. Sadly I cannot talk about this baby with anyone around me… Nobody finds it appropriate. Oh well… If they would only understand.
Sending you a big big hug and lots of strength!!!
Edit, you are talking, my love! And I am here to talk about your precious baby and your beloved father, anytime you choose. Just like you feel, I wish I could give you a big hug.xx
Si pt noi Craciunul e o sarbatoare dulce-amara de 3 ani incoace. Socrul meu a murit 5 zile inainte de Craciun dupa o lupta cumplita cu cancerul. De interpretari, tacere, indiferenta am avut si noi parte. Filip avea 1 an cand si-a pierdut bunicul si e dureros pt ca ar fi fost un bunic minunat. Insa ii vorbim des despre el pt ca asa il pastram viu in memoria si inima noastra si pt ca a fost un om demn pana la ultima suflare. Ce sa-ti urez? “Sarbatori fericite”? Stiu ca nu mai pot fi fericite. Insa ne putem bucura de bucuria si zambetul inocent al copiilor nostri, de imbratisarea calda a sotului. Asta ne ramane cand inchidem usa casei.
Da, Ionela, noi si de la cei mai apropiati prietenj din Salonic am primit numai…tacere. Foarte dureros, ca si cum minunea aia de om, Georgie, copilul meu, nu ar fi existat deloc. Au dreptate cei care zic ca moartea redefineste totul. Credinta, prietenii, relatii. Si ai dreptate, singurul lucru pe care il avem e dragostea copiilor nostri, cei care mai sint in viata, in cazul meu…Nu imi ura nimic, ca pentru noi nu mai exista sarbatoare.xx
My heart breaks for what you have lost and I can only imagine that Christmas is hanging like a spectre. Is there anything we (as readers) can do to help? Sorry I’m sure that sounds like a ridiculous question. I’d dearly love to be able to do something other than leave words that are sincere but ultimately only words xx
Just keep on reading and keep on mentioning my boy’s name, that is all. And it precious help to me, Kerry, thank you for asking!xx
Absolutely. I’d really like to make a donation to a charity of your choice in memory of baby Georgie too. Would you mind telling me which charity you would choose?
Kerry, that is very thoughtful of you! The Northern Ireland children’s hospice proved invaluable to us when Georgie passed away and I would nominate them every single time. Thank you so very much!xx
I will definitely do that Oana xx
Oanna mou, I would so much want to ease your pain and I don’t know how. I wish I were there to hug you and listen to your pain. love you
I haven’t faced a close death so I’m nowhere near understanding the meaning of it, nor can I imagine! I think it’s great you continue to talk about it, and to bring Georgie into the conversation. I think people’s silence may also be that they’re afraid they’ll say something stupid or something that the person would rather they had not said. It’s tough, for sure. Sending you lots of hugs as you approach his 5.5 month anniversary, Oana. xo
Probably, Nina, I think people’s reactions are a mixture of fear and indifference and lack of understanding and empathy. But the silence makes one feel very lonely at one of the most difficult times a parent can experience and adds tot he pain.
Thank you, for continuing to mention Georgie’s name and thank you for stopping by to read and leave a comment! Much love to you.xx
Oana, I just wanted you to know I have made a donation to the NI children’s hospice and I will continue to do so regularly in the future. It was entirely prompted by Georgie and I will continue to do it in his memory. It’s another wee way that Georgie’s light keeps shining on. Just thought I’d let you know xx
Thank you so very much, Kerry! I am sure Georgie is sending a wee wave and a wink from heaven to you!xx
Aw what a thought xx