If you know me in real life and have found this blog, please honour my wishes and don't read on. I need this place to freely write my feelings to help me to heal and if you're reading, I'll censor myself. I have no way of knowing who is reading so all I can do is trust you to honour my wishes. Thank you.

(this doesn't apply to any of my fellow mums of angels I've been lucky enough to meet in real life)

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Things Parents Should Never Have to Do

* Hear the words 'Sometimes parents of babies this desperately ill want to get them baptised. Is this something you want to do?' (I think at this point I realised we'd crossed the line from Matilda is very sick to Matilda is dying)
* Hear the words 'It's now inevitable she's going to die'
* Have what everyone describes as the best moment of their life - holding their child for the first time - bound up with the fact you know you're only holding her because there's nothing left the doctors can do.
* Have to leave their child with someone else for the last time know you'll never see them again.
* Make decisions about burial or cremation or what type of casket.
* Have to educate other people about grief because they just don't get it.
* Feel the explicit or implicit why are they still so upset after all this time.
* Know that for the rest of their lives 'How many children do you have?' is always going to be a hard question.
* Try and force a new pregnancy on a body still trying to recover from the previous one and cope with grief because it's the only possible way to feel any hope for the future but now knowing that's there's no guarantee of falling pregnant or making it through the pregnancy with a living baby at the end.


  1. I wish that nobody ever had to go through any of these things. I'm so, so sorry. For myself, I find number three on your list particularly painful. I was so lost in love and wonder when I finally got to hold my daughter that it was a shock to realise that nothing had changed, that she was still dying.
    It's difficult when others question why you are still so upset after 'all this time' but they don't understand. xo

  2. Noone should ever have to go through any of these.

    For me, it was hearing 'I'm going to stop there' at an unscheduled scan. It was obvious from that what had happened, but I still thought it couldn't be possible. It couldn't have happened to me. Or my baby.

    I would be able to cope with any amount of pain if I knew that next time, it will be OK. but I don't know anything, and that's terrifying.

  3. There's one photo of me and Matilda Catherine that really sums that up. I think it was just after they'd put her in my arms - I'm looking at the camera with a big smile on my face. But there's also tears running down my checks and it's obvious I've been crying for hours. I like the photos where we're looking her and you can't really see our faces better. You can just see the pain in the other ones.

  4. it's so hard, having to walk on this side of the universe. i don't think anyone can fathom what it is to carry and birth a child, and then watch them die. that's why they don't understand. it is so awful, so terrifying that they look away. i wonder sometimes what i would have done as an onlooker had i never walked in this world. i don't know. i can't even relate anymore to that innocense. it is all so difficult and wrong. your first one made me think of when my daughter was dying, and a hospital staffer came in to ask if we had a plot ready. i looked at her and said, "i am 28 years old, why on earth would i have a cemetery plot?" there are so many things we are forced to deal with that are just so unfair. i am sorry that matilda is not here with you. i love her name.