Comments 30



First of all, my appreciation to all of you who took the time to comment, call or meet up with us after my last blog post.

I wish I could say the contents of that blog post were erroneous and I am now in a much better place. But it would simply not be true.

The last blog post was written out of  deep personal  anguish and a sense of disappointment with life and desperate search for meaning.

Afterwards, I went to see our lovely social worker in the children’s hospice, there is nothing I could say to her to shock, and she simply said:

“It sounds like you are desperately looking for a life purpose.”

And yes, that is what it is: I have been through a lot and at this very moment in time, my life makes very little sense as it stands. It needs to change, I need a direction and a purpose.

I am a visual writer and in that conversation, I did explain that it seems that since Georgie died, I have been in a huge whirlwind, a proper tsunami which has sucked my life out of place . I am trying desperately to pull stuff out from the terrible mess that grief has left my life in and rebuild it to resemble, even in the slightest, the life I once dreamt I would have.

Another metaphor that popped into my head was “circle of trust“.

Grief has made me question absolutely everything I ever believed in and it has been like a trust circle that has been drawing tighter and tighter.

I tossed away the image of a God who cares for little children, I see Him now as the Giver of life simply.

I tossed away the belief in the Church as a Hope place. I see it now as a club, a Sunday club.

I have tossed away the beliefs that in marriage the man in the “head” and the woman needs to submit. I have a head too and I now believe a marriage should be a union of equals, as we both carry equally important responsibilities, be it providing financially or raising a family.

I have also tossed the belief that has sneaked into my head over the past 10 years that I cannot do much. I can and I will. I am still young, only 37 and can still build a beautiful and stable future for my daughter and myself.

So, thank you.

To all of you who have not judged, who have not called me mentally ill, who have not referred me for “help” and who have had the ability to look at my last blog post and see the emotional pain that oozed from my words and the potential for great things that came from such vulnerable and very public ramblings.

For the ones who didn’t all the above mentioned things, never mind.

I know that you come from a place where you have never known great pain and sorrow. Your opinions on life are still shaped by tradition and propriety. You have not had the past two years of sleepless nights to ponder on life and dig so deep for meaning that your bare soul was left exposed.

You have a mind and have used it to form an opinion of me. It is your right, of course. You already had, most likely, already an opinion, all shaped by the neat box in which you had shoved me in when my writing started to get “ugly” and raw, two years ago.

I cannot change your mind nor your opinion. Only you can but these things happen ONLY when your heart and mind open up to see the pain, the anguish, the despair.

Your opinions cannot change me either. I am where I am, on a journey of suffering, self-discovery and maybe, one day, hope. A personal journey on which you choose to travel with me or not. It is of no consequence to me. I have not the luxury of escape from it myself, it is the lot that has been dealt to me and I will have to make the most of it, in any way I can.

This entry was posted in: Writing


Mum of one beautiful girl on earth and one sweet baby boy in heaven. Daughter of a wonderful woman. Wife of a very entrepreneurial man.


  1. I’m so glad that you went to speak to the lovely SW at the Children’s Hospice – we need people like her who are caring and supportive. The road of ‘child loss’ is such a long hard road and it can be a catalyst for so many other issues as well. You and Alex and Emma are so much in my thoughts and prayers. ❤️❤️❤️

  2. Oh Oana I’m so sorry, I wish I could say something that would be helpful. I didn’t see your previous post but I do hope the talking helped. I cannot imagine what you’re going through, I can only imagine it will take time to be in a good place. Don’t be too hard on yourself x

  3. Despite your inner turmoil you sound strong in that you know and are learning about why you feel the way you do. That’s so important even if the truth hurts. I saw a psychotherapist who would take the source out of my rambles and help me see the core of the problem. Keep in frequent contact with those that help you do this. Also, on the faith side, you might be interested in God on Mute by Peter Greig. I found it helpful for understanding more about the absence of God. But all in your own time and if you want. Forward is the only way x

  4. Some will never know what it is to suffer such a great loss. Grief eats at your everything thought, your beliefs and make you question your very own existence. I didn’t read your last past but I can sense your pain and want to tell you that you aren’t alone, It’s difficult to see the world outside your grief for now but slowly things will get a little less cloudy, you pain will never go away but one day you’ll be court of guard your mental strength, the fact that the things used to crush your heart either further into oblivion don’t effect you quite so much.I am sorry for your pain, I know that nothing can compare and being told by people that they understand probably makes you scoff at the thought, I can’t explain how your life will grow from now on, how you find that purpose, I can’t even tell you how long it might take to find it but you will.

  5. largerfamily says

    Oh my goodness, I really do want to just hug you. Nothing more. I don’t have any words and I can’t pretend to understand the anguish you are going through. I just want to hug you and hold you and let you just be as you need to at this moment in time.

  6. I hope you can find a new meaning and purpose like the social worker suggested. I’m glad you have someone like that to talk openly and honestly with and who will just listen and not judge.

  7. Oh my darling Oana…I am so sorry I stopped reading and reaching out. I wrapped myself in my own drama😦 I am sorry you still going through such tough times but I am sure your daughter will help you see hope and purpose in life. I am here to talk whenever if you wish xxx

  8. Wishing you strength and hope that with time the pain will lessen and you can move on and think of the future. I don’t know you personally but reading your post has touched me. Take care and take each day as it comes, time will heal your pain.

  9. I cannot imagine the suffering you have been through. Even just trying to imagine a loss like that fills me with fear. No one should go through it and of course it would make you question everything. Life is so unfair but you have your wonderful daughter and you WILL find a brighter day. Lots of love xx

  10. You have every right to feel the way you feel to about everything and mentally ill you are not, I cannot comprehend the loss of a child only try to understand. Life is hard enough without what you have gone through and I only hope your pain eases.

  11. shelllouise says

    I’ve not been through the heartache/devastation of losing a child; my husband has lost 2 baby daughters and I find it hard to know what to say, even to him. I tend to just listen, mostly as it seems that’s what’s best for him. His girls would be adults now and whilst he doesn’t deal with the loss on a day to day basis anymore, there are times it still hits him and he needs to talk and just have me listen.
    I’m glad you have someone you can go to who will listen while you talk xx

  12. Erica Price says

    Looking for a purpose does seem to fit. It’s not anyone’s place to judge you. x

  13. You have been through so much, I am not surprised that it is effecting you so much, but it’s so good that you have the social worker to speak to, and I’m sure that some of your readers are so very thankful for your honesty as they can relate to those feelings.

  14. I am glad your social worker was there for you. Sometimes it needs someone who has experience of raw pain, or has been trained to help those who are suffering. I think we have all been through painful times and dealt with them all differently so sometimes it is hard to understand someone else’s point of view. I hope you find your purpose x

  15. I’m so happy that there are people out there who care and help you. Hopefully this will all come together soon.

  16. Oana I just want to give you a cuddle. Such a moving post. I am so glad you are ignoring the people whose opinions are there to hurt and not support you. You are an incredibly strong person and you’ve been on such a journey. Sending so much love xx

  17. Michelle Twin Mum says

    The title of this blog post seems just right. I didn’t see yoru last post but I’ll go and read now. You’re right I’ve never suffered what you have and I have no idea of the anguish but I’m also not judging you, my heart bleeds for you. With much love and I pray you do find your hope again. Mich x

  18. Lisa (Travel Loving Family) says

    Wishing you the strength to go on for the sake of yourself and your lovely daughter Oana xx

  19. What an honest post for you to share with us, I hope you find your path, something you find you enjoy and I am sure there will be many people to share that journey with you and support you along the way.

  20. Such an honest heart wrenching post. You may not fell it but you are one hell of a strong woman. There is purpose to your life and I hope that you find that place real soon x

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s