Once again we’re heading toward that time of year again, to raise awareness and to speak of our babies no longer here.
I wanted to give a little heads up to anyone who reads, who doesn’t want to see, or who has friends who would find my sharing of Melody….offensive.
I have joined in with the Project Capture Your Grief since 2012, it is helpful, and not so much healing, but a chance to speak bare-nakedly things about Melody, that I don’t normally share apart from a select few.
The first year was incredibly hard, whilst pregnant with our 4th child, I was grieving, torn in raw pain and terrified. I just wanted to talk it out.
I wanted to make sure her memory was being kept alive, a way to honour her, to know that she existed.
Only last year was different, because sadly for some ‘human beings’ they think it is acceptable to attack grieving parents, to want to show and speak of their lost children.
Society in general think that baby loss should be swept under the carpet, and that is precisely what the month is about, to stop the taboo. Although we cannot stop people attacking us in our rawest of time, we can continue to fight against it.
Last year I was bullied and called upon for writing, standing up for parents, not for showing pictures, but by talking.
My photos of my live daughter were attacked.
I felt beaten.
I couldn’t quite see why I should continue sharing our precious daughter.
A time to hide her away.
Strangers telling me my daughter is IS less than perfect because she died… I continued until the final day, although the event was closed down, through tears I wanted to finish it for our little girl.
So this year thankfully the project will be going ahead, only it won’t be a public event, details are to follow.
I will however be blogging it again, because quite frankly I have absolutely every right to speak about Melody.
To tell you she had 10 fingers and 10 toes, to tell you she had blond hair.
I’m allowed to say that I missed her first steps, I don’t know her eye colour, but I know she loved her siblings voices.
That she existed.
I will not stop speaking about her, not ever.
I will break the silence.
I am her mum, broken, but still standing.