"I will praise the one who's chosen me, to carry you"
-Selah: I will carry you

Sunday, 13 May 2012

The Beginning....

Since losing my son Robert almost 8 months ago, I have found writing has helped me a lot, to get feelings out, process my tumbling emotions, help people understand my grief, and hopefully, to help other angel parents. And so, the time feels right to start a blog.

Here goes, bear with me, I'm new to this! I guess I should start with a little about me. My name is Sarah, I am 29 years old. I am a bereaved mother, wife, friend, daughter, professional, Christian, and now, blogger! You'll notice I put bereaved mother first. That is because that is the thing that sadly defines me right now. Oh how I wish I could drop the "bereaved" and just be "mother". Every day I wish I could turn back time and hold my baby again.

Losing a child changes you fundamentally. It rocks you to the core and challenges everything you believe to be true about the world, yourself, your future, your faith. There is no going back from the moment you hold your dying baby in your arms, from the moment the doctors tell you that nothing more can be done. All us angels parents can do from that moment on is strive to survive, to reach the new normal. 

I am not who I was. I wish I were, but I am not, I cannot ever be.  I am me after Robert.

Me after You

A carefree laugh touches my lips,
But it’s tempered with sadness, because I’ll never hear that sound from you
Beginning to live, spring is coming at last, after the long hard winter,
I can see a future.  I have hope, I have faith
But I have a heavy heart, always.

Every day brings fresh tears
For you, and your future lost
I know that you’re in a better place, but you should have lived here first
Everything I do, every new experience
I feel a little sadness because
 You’ll never do the same.

A hard lesson to learn, at 29
That I can never have all I want from this life
That a piece will always be missing, a hole in my heart
Where nothing can fit, no matter what I do.
Starting to make plans, to organise
A little of the old me returning....but I can’t be her
Not completely.

She is me before you, she’s gone for good
Now, I am sadder, and I always will be
Nothing can take away this pain, not even time
I will learn to carry it, to continue on, but
I have a heavy heart.

The bereaved mother is a fragile being. Outside she may appear to be very strong, and to cope amazingly well, but inside, she is hurting more than you can imagine. She doesn't feel strong every time her heart breaks when she sees another baby, she doesn't feel strong when she lays awake at night crying until her insides hurt. She doesn't feel strong when she wants to fall asleep and never wake up again, just so she can be with her child, nor when the world around her seems to be going so fast and she cannot keep up. Some days it is all she can do just to get out of bed, others she manages to smile. It's always there though, despite the mask she wears, bubbling just beneath the surface is the sadness, the hurt, the confusion, the unanswerable question. Why my baby? 


  1. your last paragraph had me in tears..so sad..so true...

  2. It's 8 months on Friday since my sleeping boy came into the world. And nine weeks since I lost my rainbow. The time is a healer thing is cruel lie. I'm just getting better at pretending. I miss my tom

    1. I'm so sorry for your losses of baby Tom, and your little rainbow, it is so very cruel. Eight months is still such early days, I know you wish you could fast forward. Five years on I can say that what time, a lot of time does is soften the blow and make it possible to live with the pain. I'm not healed, there are days I still cry like it was yesterday, but they are much less frequent and I feel happiness, too. I don't have to wear the mask any more. Hope that makes sense X