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, October 30, 2012


My dear sweet Matilda - I wish you were here and we were trying to get you into bed after too much cake and excitement. I wonder what you'd be like - what your voice would sound like, your laugh, what colour your hair would be, and what you'd feel like in my arms. I hope you're up there looking down and knowing that our tears today are only because we love you and miss you. 4 days wasn't long enough and never will be. xx

Sunday, September 23, 2012


Arrived safely last Tuesday 18th September. She is perfect and we are overjoyed. Came home on Saturday and her big brother Max seems to be adjusting well so far (though he's still got two doting grandparents here spending lots of time with him). Emotionally I did OK until just before the c-section and the sense of relief once she was delivered was there again though not quite as overwhelming as when Max was delivered. The tears for Matilda didn't really start until the day before we were coming home and it really started to sink in we were taking this little girl home when we never got to bring Matilda home. As so many things with rainbow babies, the happy is intermingled with the sad. Last night our neighbours came over with their little girl and her and Max played while we passed Maggie around and sat on the deck and ate dinner. Life is good. But we still miss you and love Matilda - that won't ever change.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

So close

So we're counting down to Tuesday when this little one is arriving (bar nothing happening before then). My third pregnancy and it's been the most 'normal' - for the first time I made my last scheduled ob appointment. And about this time three years ago we found out Matilda had BWS. I still look back and can't believe everything she and we went through. But it was real - the urn next to my bed and photos tell me that. Matilda - we love you and miss you.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012


I've been meaning to post an update for ages but haven't quite managed so here it is (in bullet point form...) - thanks for the nudge St Elsewhere ;-) * I'm 30 weeks now and things seem to be going well bar having gestational diabeties again. I had a scan a couple of weeks ago and the baby looks well and was measuring in the 25th percentile which seems strange to me after two big babies (BWS is an overgrowth syndrome and Max is just big). When I asked if we'd do another scan my endochrologist said if we're worried about the baby being small so that's playing on my mind. So all going well 8 weeks to go. I'm starting to get more anxious and just hoping and praying everything is OK with the baby - you can never really know can you. But generally (clutching a big piece of wood here) doing much better than my last pregnancy - a toddler to keep me busy helps a lot. * Max is 22 months now and brings joy and laughter (and lets be honest - some yelling and the occasional tantrum) to our lives everyday. He's not really talking yet (says dog, duck, Mama, and nah) but can communicate and my doctor thinks he's still in the normal range and we'll just wait and see for now. * Max's christening is this weekend and last night we saw the priest that performed Matilda's funeral for the first time since then. I coped OK but I still find it hard to believe at times that we had a daughter, she died, and we organised her funeral. We're going to include a prayer for her in the baptism. * This is the third time I've been 30 weeks pregnant but the first time I've really been out and interacting with people at this stage of pregnancy. With Matilda I was in hospital by now and with Max I was home most of the time and when I was out I really didn't want anyone bringing up the fact I was I pregnant. This time I'm out there talking to people about age gaps and how their older child adjusted and generally acting like there's going to be a baby coming home. It strikes me sometimes that someone who didn't know my story and was having a hard time falling/staying pregnant/another BLM would just assume I was just one of those smug, pregnant, fertile women who was acting like it was just going to happen. That's all I can think of right now but I'm sure there's more I've been meaning to post - I'll be back :-)

Saturday, March 31, 2012

New Normal and Some News

A term that floats around in baby loss circles is the 'new normal'. Life's never the same but eventually that 'new normal' becomes 'normal' in it's own way. Looking at my fridge I was struck by having Matilda's memorial card (with her picture that we gave people at her funeral) held up by an Australian Breastfeeding Association magnet and right next to the standard vaccinations magnet and a photo of me and Max held up by a 'Grief is a journey' magnet.

On my bedside table, I have a picture of Matilda, her urn, and a teddy bear a friend knitted for her while I was pregnant. Next to that is a stack of books I am reading (or trying to read) and on top of that stack is 'Turning Tears in Laughter' about toddler discipline.

And these things are normal to me now.
My news is that I'm 14 weeks pregnant and so far things look good and I'm much more hopeful of bringing this little one home than I ever was with Max at this stage. But I can't feel movements yet and while I know that's 'normal' it scares me. That naviety of pregnancy when you haven't suffered loss just never comes back.

But amongst these circles I know I'm incrediably lucky to be pregnant with my 2nd subsequent baby so soon and I'm ever so grateful for that. Some of my friends are having very rough times at the moment and my heart breaks for them.
Matilda - the other normal is that I love you, think about you everyday, and miss you. As I watch Max grow into a toddler I just wonder what you would have been like now and still can't believe we never got the priviledge of watching you grow and change and giggle and walk and wonder at the world. It still hurts.