All posts tagged: Baby Loss

Seven months on as a bereaved parent

It has been seven months since Georgie died. Seven long and extremely taxing months. Taxing on our emotions, our mental health, our relationships, our bodies and souls. Looking back, here are the ten things I have learned from the past seven months: 1. Grief is like a sneaky thief, it shows up uninvited and robs you of any remnant of joy and hope. There are no rules in the grieving game, grief doesn’t stick to any rules. It strikes whenever it pleases and the pain can last for weeks and weeks. 2. Grief affects EVERY aspect of your life. There is no area that has been left untouched by grief. My body has been affected, I have put on weight because to me, food is a comfort now. My mind has been severely affected, I have become very forgetful and I have trouble focusing on and staying on plan. My sleep patterns have been altered as well, there is hardly any night I don’t wake up to think and process what has happened to my …

Emma’s January Reviews

Emma enjoys being a mummy blogger’s offspring and this January was rich in beautiful products she got to try and enjoy. Our most special item was actually sent out at the end of December by Zapf Creation and brought comfort to her, as a bereaved sibling. Baby George came in the post a few days before Christmas and I decided to give it to her straight away, instead of saving him as from Santa. Emma misses her brother more than she wants to admit. She tries to be brave for me, especially on my sad days but I know that the reality of what she is missing will forever stay with her and will grow with time. I cannot replace her brother. I cannot be the playmate he was meant to be. I cannot take the ache away. But I can at least give her the comfort of a toy named like her baby brother and fill her arms with it. She loves her baby George toy. She still plays with it daily, even after …

Today, I remember

Today, as every single day since last July, I remember. A bump and the promise of the fulfilled dream of a complete family: A little baby boy, so cuddly and new and loved and wanted, A dream of a boy, so sweet and so happy to just be: A cough and sleepless nights and This ominous, nightmarish feeling, lurking closer and closer. A sick little boy, so helpless and fragile, A fight so big ahead someone so very small. A precious baby boy who taught us how to smile, in spite of all pain and sorrow A little boy who never ceased to amaze his nurses, his doctors and his parents Who sparkled bright on that horrid cancer ward Who grinned in the face of death, Proving it wrong: A little boy who left us waaaaay too soon, with hearts too empty to ever fill again A baby boy who will forever live in our hearts Who will forever be loved Never forgotten Always cherished and treasured and ALIVE With hearts full of sorrow, we …

Grief is…

…a whirlpool, we were told in counselling last week. It sucks you in, when you least expect it and it spits you out, exhausted and drained. …a maze, out of which you never quite manage to emerge, I read. You pass from one chamber to another, sometimes chased, just like in the Maze Runner, not by a griever but by Grief. Sometimes you crawl through it, from one chamber to another and back again where you started: shock, anger, acceptance, pain, shock, anger… …anger plus despair plus pain plus loneliness. All at once, on any given day. …a loud banging-like noise in your head that deafens you to any other noises of this world. All you feel like doing is shout back. But at whom? And to what effect? …never knowing how to play your emotions. Play them down and they come flooding over, like a tsunami, when you least expect it. Play them up and people drain away from you, like water off the surface of dry, parched up land. Grieving emotions are inconvenient …

31 Days of Grief: Community vs. Retreat

I am running behind with this writing challenge so I will most likely write in clusters of two from now on, especially since we will be travelling to Greece this weekend and will be away the whole Halloween week. Last week we remembered, as a community of bereaved parents, our lost children. It was a bitter sweet evening, seeing the Internet light up with candles and the realisation that so many beloved souls are away, waiting for us in Heaven. We also took Saturday evening to spend with local bereaved families, get to know them and their surviving children and remember together our babies, gone too soon. I am so grateful for this community to which we were only introduced this September and I am so thankful that we do not have to do this journey alone. The pain of losing a child is terrible but carrying the burden alone is equally painful. I am also grateful for the fact that Emma has found friends among the children present there and she now understands that …