There are many things in Elle Wright's book that resonated with me so I thought I'd share some some snippets and add my own take.
1. Difficult emotions - Why is the world now so full of prams? Every mother with a baby wallking the street creates a stab of jealousy. I sometimes feel an urgent need to look inside their pram as they walk past even though it hurts more. Every little girl toddler reminds me of what Yaeli will never be. Nappy adverts make me want to smash up the TV. Opening facebook to see baby announcements and happy families is akin to torture. but know this. Friends and family who are pregnant (or announce they are) or have babies, you shouldn’t feel guilty that it hurts me to see you / and or your babies. I am angry at the world that Yaeli was taken too soon; but it’s not your fault. Grief means I may not want to or be able to see or talk to you and I will probably find it hard to congratulate you. But I wouldn't wish this on anyone. Especially not those I love. I don’t know for how long these feelings will last. But it hurts. The hurt and the jealousy are extremely uncomfortable emotions and It’s painful that I am unable to be happy for everyone in the same way that the ‘old me’ was.
2. No one knows what to say. There is nothing to say. Nothing can take away the pain. I didn't know it was possible to have a physical ache in my heart until now. It's like nothing I've felt before. I can sense the helplessness felt by my parents and other members of my family at times when I'm inconsoloable. But there’s no need to say anything to try to take that pain away. Just know that our baby girl existed and it’s ok for us to talk about it. There’s also no need for people to try to relate to it. In fact it’s best if you do not. No loss is like another - and just sympathising rather than trying to understand is ok.
When a sibling or parent or grandparent dies people don’t tend to say their death was ‘just one of those things’ or ‘it was meant to be’ or ‘it was destiny’. So why do people seem to say this with stillbirth? I think people just want to find something to take away the pain or comfort themselves. But don't tread on egg shells. I and many other women like me will try not ot judge when people say something that hurts us. We know it comes from a place of love.
3. The ‘sympathetic head tilt’. I thought I had invented this joke but Elle wrote about it in her book. In the first few days and weeks after Yaeli died, Ben and I stayed for over two weeks at mum and dads flat. Going home to our new house was traumatising for me – it had held so much anticipation and excitement to have Yaeli there and felt haunting for me. We took a CBT approach to getting back home; passing the house at first in the car, then walking past, then just entering for a few minutes. There were many many tears on that first night back but I did it! I digress... When people came to mum and dads flat to see me and when the Crisis team arrived I would tell them not 'cock their head' and to be ‘normal’ which always got a laugh (as everyone always said ‘normal’ what is that?). Grief is a common human condition but it's funny how we all feel so awkward around those who have lost. Weird isn't it.
4. Learning to focus on what I do have as well as what I do not. Supportive friends and family – goodness knows where we would be had we not had you through our darkest hours! Words are not enough as a thank you for the meals, the cards, flowers, gifts and emotional support.
Thoughts from old friends and acquaintances have also been appreciated despite sometimes feeling like I'm 'that unfortunate girl' that everyone's talking about. I get the impression that it comes from a well meaning place. As soon as someone with a child hears about what happened to me, they must immediately think 'thank fuck that didn't happen to me' and they must try to imagine if it had. But they can't imagine it because it's too painful. So I understand that well wishers are genuine. (but like Elle says, re-acquainting with old friends at this time with a (zoom) coffee and a catch up is unlikely).
5.Taking it at my own pace - Right now, people are well meaning and they want to see me (on Zoom) and see that I am still standing. Some days are manageable, others are not. I'm shit on the phone. I've laways been like that but now it's worse. I feel like I have nothing to say a lot of the time and I'll be a bore to talk to. But on a good day I might make a call. I just hope my friends and family won't give up on me no matter if they don't speak to me or see me for a long time. I know that in time, the better days will hopefully outweigh the horrendous days. When lock down allows, there will be marriages and family events. I hope people will understand if it’s too difficult. One day might be ok, another not so. Elle says she can remember one of her good friends saying ‘Elle I’ll always invite you even when I know you can’t come yet. One day you might feel like it and that will be lovely’. This allowed her to go at her own pace and even months on, some weeks she could socialise and some weeks she couldn’t.
6. Vulnerability - I know that in time people I don’t know may ask me ‘do you have any children?’ I am gearing up for this… Elle says she has to decide in a moment whether she is going to share Teddy with them or not because she has to decide if her heart is strong enough to share it without bursting into tears and whether it’s worth sharing that vulnerability with someone who might not actually care that much. The questions ‘Do you have any children?’ Or ‘Is this your first pregnancy’ are so common place that we don’t think about the impact it might have on someone. In fact I asked a friend of a friend that question last year when she was pregnant. She answered in a way that I would like to if I am ever pregnant again. I hope to say ‘This is my second child. I had a daughter called Yaeli but sadly she didn’t get to come home with us’. Despite the pain, I don’t want to deny my baby girl’s existence. Elle says people change the subject right away because of the awkwardness and she feels that she needlessly gave away a piece of her heart.If a parent or a grandparent dies, people ask questions. How old were they? What happened? There is a long way for society to go. I hope that our family and friends feel able to talk about Yaeli for years to come. We won’t pretend she never existed.
7. Is this forever? Elle writes ‘For anyone reading who has not lost a child, or someone significant in their life who was taken from this world far too early, they might find it difficult to understand why the pain of something like that takes so long to dull and has a huge impact on every aspect of a persons life. She says if you do know someone who is suffering as a result of a loss like that, be mindful that they won’t be bouncing back to their ‘old self’ anytime soon, not because they don’t want to but because it’s not that simple’. Almost a year after Teddy has died, Elle’s mum was asked by a family member if she was ok because she didn’t seem herself. Elle said ‘I know 11 months had passed but was I really meant to be my old ‘chirpy’ self? Her mum did her best to explain what it’s like to live through and that some days just facing the world was a big achievement. Elle started to wonder ‘ is this what everyone expects?’ for her to be back to her ‘old self’ as if her son Teddy never existed? The fact is that it changed her. There were many ‘firsts’ to get through. However, two years on there were more better days than bad and she knows there are happier times ahead. Losing Teddy has changed her in positive ways as well as the negative. I've just read on Elle's blog that she is pregnant and expecting in Summer 2020. I'm so happy and hopeful for her.
8. Moving forward, not Moving on.There will be no moving on. Yaeli will always be our lost baby girl and this will always hurt. Having more children in future will not change that. But Yaeli also represents love and happiness. Happiness when she was kicking me and everlasting love when we were holding her. I don’t wish she never existed. I will celebrate her forever. Yaeli will be the reason WE DO. I am not ‘rolling over and letting the universe win’ as Elle puts it. I know I have a future to live for, for Yaeli. And when we have chosen the right charit(ies), we will aim to raise lots of money so that maybe fewer parents suffer the death of their babies. I am incredibly lucky to have the most patient and kind husband that exists (literally), amazing parents (my mum for example slept in the hospital with us for four nights), wonderful parents in law, an amazing brother in law, and brother and brilliant friends. I know this and this will help me move forward, not move on.
Giving birth to a baby that has died is one of life’s most unthinkable cruelties. But it was also amazing. I still gave birth. I am a mummy and I always will be Yaeli’s mummy. I gave birth to her with very little pain relief whilst suffering in the knowledge that I could never take her home with me. I will always be proud of this achievement. I’m a part of a warrior tribe of women around the world that no-one wants to be a part of. Like Elle Wright, I’ve recently found a group of ladies who have all lost their babies. A lady using the Sands Online Community read my mind when she posted 'looking for friends?'. She created a whatsapp group and it’s now wonderful to have a group of women who from all across the UK, who can understand almost exactly how I feel at any given moment. I also get joy from being able to be a cheerleader for others during their moments of hopelessness. We're already talking about meeting up at some point.
I’m strong and some people say I’m brave. I think I’m just doing what I have to do and dealing with the cards I’ve been dealt. We want to mark Yaeli’s existence in our home even though this may be painful. I just want to be the best mummy I can be, to live on for Yaeli and to do great things in her name because she can’t. I want her existence to be felt in our family forever and not to be hushed away just because it hurts.
