Month: October 2012

One of Those Mornings

A golden opportunity by Georgina Hart

It is one of those mornings, where I wake up early and sleep eludes me for the rest of the night. I wish I could go back to sleep as it is much too early to get up but my mind is starting to get busy. I also love the early morning hours when no one else is awake, it is dark outside and … silence. So I get up and write.

This morning I thought back to so many different things, starting with the last sentence that I uttered as a response to my husband’s question: ‘What do you miss about Australia?’ My answer was: ‘Knowing how things worked – for example IVF.’

What a strange thing to miss, I thought, but more and more I have learnt to trust and listen to the first things that comes up when asked a question. Even though I have returned to what would be my ‘home’ it still feels like I have to get used to everything all over again, similarly to my previous oversea moves. I know how IVF worked in Australia or at least I think I did. I notice hesitation… I stop and wait. I hear the words inside of me: Write! Say it!

I was wondering what we would have happened if we were still in Australia. (more…)

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Breaking the Silence

~ Hope’s Celebration ~

Today a year ago we celebrated Amya Mirica’s far too short life. I remember the fullness of those moments meeting so many friends who attended the celebration, people who cared enough to make the trip to be with us that Sunday, a year ago. It was almost unbelievable to me that this ‘story’ of our twin sisters, this little person, Hope… could draw the attention of so many people, who hadn’t even met her in person.

I was ‘in space’ hugging one person after another, meeting their eyes, their sadness, their stories of loss, their sadness for our loss. The time went to fast and I wished I had many more hours to fully embrace the hugeness of this moment in time which we prepared so lovingly with the help of our closest friends, with the help of people coming to be with us from places as far as Switzerland, New Zealand, Melbourne, Queensland, Byron Bay…

I’m so grateful that Mark, Ananda Mae and Amya Mirica’s godfather, offered to make  film of the celebration which I will watch again today.
I’m so grateful that Ayana, my niece and also the girls’ godmother who came from Switzerland to be with us and graced us with her voice. She sang many songs in favor of her cousin.
I’m so grateful to all the people helping us to be able to ‘carry on’ with life in what was the most challenging situation to deal with in my life – you know, that I mean you too.
I’m so grateful to you, you is taking time reading this, you have probably read other posts of mine before and you have encouraged me to continue sharing.

Yesterday was Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day (more…)

Emotional Responses

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Grief is present when it comes up. Whether that is by seeing my child playing and wondering how it would be having her sister with her or whether someone mentions something that allows grief to rise. As mentioned previously 1 in 4 has lost a baby, either during pregnancy, neonatal death or maybe through SIDS. Grieving parents, whether they do it openly or behind closed doors, are everywhere.

I have lost one girl as a baby (neonatal death) and had one miscarriage. When the miscarriage happened I didn’t really notice much. Yes, I was disappointed but I think I didn’t really have time to stay with the facets of grief, ‘moved’ on with my oversea’s move preparations. Today, a friend of mine mentioned that she’s pregnant and, given our similar stories, I remembered and was transported back to that time. I am very happy for her and her pregnancy and I am also sad and disappointed that I am not. This does not mean that I don’t want to know about my friends’ joyful news but I will have emotional responses and they will differ from moment to moment.

Tonight, when I was dismantling the boxes from the move, I felt anger (one of the stages of grief) rising and directed the energy at the removal of the sticky tape on the boxes. I remembered being ‘stuck’ in the anger stage for weeks after my mother’s suicide and ending up being totally exhausted from it. Even though it eventually stopped, I notice even now that sometimes the anger comes up and even though there might be sufficient reason in the outside world, where I could justify and project my frustration, I know that deep inside it actually is my continuous process of the letting go. Some more details here… 

I cannot speak for other bereaved mothers, but for me I can tell you that I am willing to meet whatever my emotional response will be while respectfully meeting my needs of space or silence.

Death – Meeting Society’s Taboo

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I’m the mother of a dead child. I’m the daughter of a dead mother. All of which happened within the space of less than 5 months.

I shock people when I tell them what occurred in the last year. Some literally sit there, eyes and mouth wide open but no sound. Even some good friends have not contacted me since my child died.

Talking to a friend who experienced stillbirth recently she mentioned that her friends wanted to give her space. Really, we don’t need that much space. One of my friends expressed feeling conscious of not wanting to bore me with her daily life because it all seemed so trivial and non-important.

It is true: experiencing death has changed me as a person and my perspective. It has put problems into perspective, taken the seriousness out of seemingly important matters and given my life a whole different meaning. It has thought me appreciation where in the past was a sense of expectation. It has requested I look deeper into myself, open more of those hidden cupboards of my psyche and questioned the notion of taking things for granted.

I’m open to talk about death. I’m not hiding, nor trying to fix or mend the truth. Still, I find myself saying: ‘I’m sorry if I shocked you’ or ‘it might sound worse than it is’.

The truth is I have been processing this for days on end. It’s there every waking and sleeping hour. I cannot escape looking at it and into it. I have no choice but to deal with it.

Maybe I’m considered a weirdo because I’m not accepting or honoring society’s taboo. As a society we are not used to openly meeting, talking or sharing stories around death and we don’t know how to handle our own feelings in regards to other people’s trauma. I can remember just a few years ago when a distant friend of mine had a stillbirth I didn’t know what to say. I can relate.

Another truth is that each and everyone’s experience of meeting death is somewhat different. What I can tell you is only my experience. Given the feedback I have received I have to assume that those who speak are actually relieved that there is finally someone who doesn’t shy away and openly shares.