Here we are,the final day of the Capture Your Grief project. A month that has been able to give awareness, let people,friends old and new how it is to be Melody’s Mum. Of course it is never “just one month”. But it is a snippet to just some of the emotions, that can be presented after losing a baby. I’m aware I am incredibly open, but I am also very aware on how people question (not always to my face) my openness, aware of how uncomfortable people also are too.
I wanted to teach the world about the child, I don’t even know. To tell you how hard it is to love someone, you barely had chance to meet, the regrets surrounding her death and how we dealt with things after that we cannot change. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, just as much as I don’t want to be the mum with a dead baby.
I speak about her often, not only because she is our little girl, but at times I get scared I’ll forget her, sometimes my head builds a wall between my memories of her, and her not existing.
Sometimes I wonder whether she did at all, then I see the pictures.
I’m supposed to think about her every day, you know exactly as you do with your living children, exactly as I do her siblings; you know their whereabouts, what they had for tea, when they’ll have a bath.
Honestly, I don’t think of her every day, I don’t talk about her often either, although I am sure you think even that is too much…but not as much as I should, had she been alive, but I have nothing new to share.
I can’t even share my four early losses any more because my brain can’t focus or concentrate on them. My heart has shut away from them. Because my head only sees Melody.
Today whilst everyone made their gardens into cemeteries, fake headstones and dressed their children as skeletons, I, we visited a real cemetery, dressed a real headstone and well…
There are days, many days where I believe Melody’s story is not ours; when I tell people I have four children it is easier, it is quick and painless.
This year, I’ve been detached from the project, I know from previous years readers have also been detached, due to numbers dropping, when I use this project to heal, but nobody is listening.
It is boring, it is sad. But I am your friend, your family member, she is our child.
Reflecting on baby bereavement as a whole not just this month. Life really does move on.
Time does heal provided you’re not the bereaved, provided it isn’t your story.
I put my trust into people after she died, when I shouldn’t have.
I expected far too much from people to understand and be kind, not use her death for their own gains or against me. When on reflection the only people who truly understand are those who are walking this path.
This project is insightful, even to me. It is an education. Learning from mums who have lost their babies but not in the same way, to know that we’re not alone but our losses, our pain is all individual and unique.
Nothing is wrong, nothing is right in how we, as bereaved parents (dads matter too) choose to pick up the Cellotape and fix our broken hearts.
Nobody has the right to tell us either.