It Still Hurts, Like the Day You Died.

It hurts now seven months after Rosie died and then was born just as much as it did when I found out she had gone.
I still have that heart wrenching pain, the panic, the nervous tapping and sweaty palms. I still have moments where I say “my baby is dead” because it hasn’t sunk into my head. I still have the hormones, the nurture, the motherly feelings that you get when you have your baby but mine are wasted. I hear a baby cry and my body yearns to protect my baby when my head is telling me that my baby isn’t here to protect or mother. It hurts all over again. Every day I wake up to an empty crib next to my bed and I remember I am not pregnant, I am not excited for our baby to arrive for ours was born in heaven. I remember my baby is dead. The world doesn’t. The world forgets about us and our pain. Even friends and family forget about us. Forget that we relive this pain every day. When you give birth to your baby you count the days until their birthday, for us Rosie’s birth was the reinforcement of her death. We won’t celebrate her first birthday on the 12th January next year, we’ll be mourning her death on the day she was born.

You have your baby and send us pictures or tell people how happy you are. You forget that we have lost the future we planned, we have lost a part of ourselves before we had a chance to know it. You forget that we still live this pain. We always will live this pain but now as we need and ask for love and support, we ask you to remember Rosie and our loss but you forget. When you hand your baby to my mum, the woman who lost her only grandchild, you only think that you need a break from your tired arms. I see you replacing our daughter who should be held in her grandmothers arms with yours. I see the pictures of your baby as the thing I am missing. I hear those cries and break again.

I can choose to be around you and your lovely living baby but I can’t choose how you send your happiness my way. Some times I can do it if you need a friend, some times I can say hello to your baby because I have worked myself up for days and hours to be strong and do that, I wish I could choose for the world to remember our baby and our pain but I cannot so I write to you here because today I am not strong enough to smile at you and pretend I’m okay.

I still break down and cry in public, I went to the hospital last week trying not to let the pain attack me, I lasted until I stepped out of hospital and its bad memories, I cried walking to the bus, I cried asking the driver for my fare, I sat on the twenty minute bus journey and cried in front of all those people. They didn’t know why I cried nor did they ask. At every stop I looked at the doors praying for someone I know to get on and hold my hand, ask me if I’m okay. I’m not okay. Life isn’t okay. I am strong and I am an inspiration but I am still human and I still hurt.

Do you still hurt from that messy divorce? Do you still hurt from your parents death? Does it still hurt you when you remember how a friend upset you?

I can’t control my pain, there are no pills, no operations, just pain.

If I reach out to you, could you reach back?
If I can remember your pain can you remember our pain?


4 thoughts on “It Still Hurts, Like the Day You Died.

  1. This is such an honest and REAL expression of how it feels to live without your baby. I feel that way all the time. I lost my Lucy only a few weeks after you lost Rosie. I’m so sorry for your loss and for your pain.

    • Lucy is blessed to have a mum so vocal about loss, thank you Bethany for recognising my blog and our pain. Thank you for pointing out my honesty, that is what I aim for, to be real in all of this torment.
      Blessings to you xx

  2. Thanks for writing how I feel as well every day since my little baby boy Krishna died with 27.weeks and I feel like I want to die so that I can be with him. It’s like you say, another baby will give you hope but never replace your baby, that died.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s