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)

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Max and Matilda

Max will be five weeks old tomorrow. I can't believe he's that old already and the early days of his life already seem like so long ago. He wonderful, beautiful, and a million other adjectives.

Matilda's birthday is five days away. I'm crying more and more as it approaches. I don't know what we're going to do and have a feeling that whatever we do it won't feel like enough.

Today I was cleaning up paperwork and realised the letter from our health insurance I opened last week wasn't the payment to the hospital for my recent stay but the payment for Matilda's stay last year. I was about to throw it out when I realised it said Baby Taylor on it and I had a closer look at the dates. I'm not sure why it's taken almost 12 months for the payment to happen. Then I wasn't sure what to do with it - should I keep it and put it in Matilda's memory box? Or throw it away because it's boring insurance paperwork? And then I cried that I even have to go through this thought process - that I have so little of my daughter that I want to keep every single thing that shows she existed - that she's part of our family.

I've seen other babyloss Mum's describe themselves as 'happy-sad' when their rainbow baby arrives and there's really no other way to put it. I'm so happy Max is here, next to my bed, snuggled to chest, on the change table waving his legs but I'm so so sad Matilda was never in any of those places.

And I'm scared no one is going to remember her birthday.


  1. Thinking of you as her birthday approaches. Remembering Matilda.

  2. Thinking of you so much and remembering Matilda with you. XO

  3. So bittersweet, to one minute be embracing and appreciating and loving Max, to then feel sad and angry and void at the absence of Matilda. All at the same time. All at once. The pain so raw still it's tangible enough to be physical, which it is. Makes you wonder why it had to be either/or. Why why why. It's all those unanswered questions that jostle and twist away at you, if you allow them. It's enough to drive you truly mad. And once again no words can or ever will fully say it.

    So I wish you something good and whole and happy :)