Capture Your Grief
Here we are again, with this annual Capture your grief project; once which I first joined back in 2012.
A project which helps bring the taboo of baby loss to the front of people’s minds, how many of us are effected by the loss of a baby or child.
My project is in memory of Melody, but I will also be mentioning my pregnancy losses too.
There isn’t much of a pretty Sunrise where I am today; there rarely ever is. It is grey and miserable looking out there.
The day she was born, back in February 2012 the sun shone, it was a beautiful spring day from what I could see from my bed. From that day onwards the sun remained until not long after her death; once her “celebration” had finished it rained for pretty much days afterwards.
When we spent days in the town in which her hospital was, we’d walk to the shops I would get sun burnt in March, I was wearing vest tops and flip flops. It seemed bizarre that we had this glorious weather so early on in the year.
We have had 2009 sunrises without her, 2009 days where we haven’t kissed her warm face, touched her warm skin, given her a cuddle. Seeing it written down as days, it seems such a long time ago; today it is five years and six months since we walked into the hospital and left different people, yet we hadn’t had surgery or an accident. We had watched our daughter die.
Nothing was going to be the same again. Though we didn’t expect how different we would be, how different people would be too. Meeting new friends, losing old friends, this tiny five week old baby had changed everything.
Melody and Me