Saturday, January 7, 2012


This blog has been a very therapeutic way for me to process and express my grief. Although my grief will never go away, writing has helped me pour out the myriad of emotions and thoughts...and I think it has done its job. The blog began so that I could record Sybella's story, pay tribute to her short recount events of her birth and death to all, so that it was written, proof that she exists, proof that she matters. That she is my daughter. I was desperate to have her acknowledged and writing allowed me to share her spirit and her soul, because physically, I couldnt share her. As I worked through the blog, over 20 months have passed. Sybella would be 20 months old. Writing is incredibly cathartic, and I was able to allow my thoughts to flow onto a keyboard, when my voice couldnt do it. People have been able to see a different side to me than they may in real life. Lots of things that I used to keep quiet about were raised. Passions and beliefs of mine were brought to the forefront. Many were indignant about this, but I dont care. That's what she taught me. To be strong, to be brave. To have conviction. To be at peace with not having to be liked by everyone. Not that I am giving myself permission to be loose and not monitor my words. It's just that I didnt want to be a peacekeeper anymore, and I wanted people to know what was important to me. I also wanted to stand up for those who couldnt stand up for themselves.
I dont know where these changes came from...they have been gradual, and many people have been surprised by them. Truth be told, however: I like myself better this way.
I read something the other day: "Dont underestimate me...until you challenge me."
Never before has one sentence resonated with me so strongly.

The values that have erupted from my conciousness over the last 20 months...are all so important to me. I never knew it, though. She gave me the ability to identify them, and the courage to express them.

I'd still rather have her, though.

Beautiful People

Tonight I am feeling grateful for all the beautiful mothers out there who have travelled the journey of babyloss grief with me. You know who you are.

"The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss and have found their way out of the depths.
Beautiful people do not just happen."
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Please Don't Tell Me You Know How I Feel

Reading though the SANDS SA newsletter a little while ago, I came across this poem that resonated with me quite strongly. Mostly because I am a changed person these days. Very different to who I used to be.
It was written by some friends of a couple who had lost their little grandson to a cerebral bleed shortly after birth. Jonah' story made me cry. So did this poem.

Please don't tell me you know how I feel,
unless you have lost your child too.
Please don't tell me my broken heart will heal,
because that is just not true.
Please don't tell me my son is in a better place,
though it is true, I want him here with me.
Don't tell me someday I'll hear his voice, see his face,
beyond today I cannot see.
Don’t tell me it is time to move on,
because I cannot.
Don’t tell me to face the fact he is gone,
because denial is something I can't stop.
Don't tell me to be thankful for the time I had,
because I wanted more.
Don't tell me when I am my old self you will be glad,
I'll never be as I was before.

What you can tell me is you will be here for me,
that you will listen when I talk of my child.
You can share with me my precious memories,
you can even cry with me for a while.
And please don't hesitate to say his name,
because it is something I long to hear everyday.
Friend, please realize that I can never be the same,
but if you stand by me, you may like the new person I become someday.