Day 7 Capture Your Grief - What To Say

I'm still reeling from reading everyone's 'What Not to Say' comments on Facebook from yesterday, Day 6. I have to say in summary, the most hurtful thing is NOTHING. Agreed by many people in the group. I know it's hard for people but literally ignoring the fact that I had a daughter called Isla at all is the most incredibly painful thing from people I know. To be fair, it hasn't happened a great deal amongst close friends. Work colleagues, yes. But not close friends and family who know and love us. 

So, after a hard one yesterday, it was also really difficult to think of things that have been especially good to hear. I picked 4 phrases I wish people would say more often actually. Thank you to those people who say these things in all genuineness.  
(Click on pic to enlarge)

1. How are you, Sara? I really want to know. What lovely words. Not just an empty 'How are you?' but a simple prompt that means you really want to know. You actually care and want to hear whether I'm having a good day, a bad day or a so-so day. If I'm having a bad day, you are going to listen. If I'm having a so-so day, I may not want to go into it, and that's fine with you. If I'm having a good day, you won't assume I'm over Isla and can laugh and joke guilt-free, because that's not the case. If I'm having a 'good' day it just means I'm coping better that day. It means I'll probably go home and have a cry and feel terrible that I managed to have some fun for a while. 

2. How is Dan? Dan has been my rock but he is grieving deeply too. Again though, please don't ask if you don't want to actually hear how he's doing! 

3. Please tell me about Isla. I'm afraid my brain is completely obsessed with Isla. I could talk about her all day every day. I spend a huge majority of my day thinking about her. She has impacted my life like I never believed possible. Thing is, when I get going, I might not be able to stop. I have to try to hold myself back when I realise people may have heard enough. But, if you are brave enough to ask and are genuine in that, please do. I even have photos!

4. I don't know what to say. This is so much better than Nothing. I respect this response to my grief. Who on Earth really knows what exactly to say to someone whose baby has died? How can you really have the words for someone who gave birth to a sleeping baby, heard deafening silence in that moment, cried as she held her newborn baby girl and buried her amongst the meadow flowers?

I think what it boils down to is HONESTY. Please don't say Nothing, just be HONEST. 

A simple text, an invite for lunch or drinks, a quick phone call or even stop in. All these things I crave. I don't want to have to call you for these things. I will never feel ready to do that and if I do, it's because I'm desperate for company. 

Day 6 Capture Your Grief - What Not to Say

There are lots of things people have said that have been amazingly supportive. More of them tomorrow! 

But there are, of course, lots of things people say that do not help, I'm sorry to say. That is what today's picture is about. I thought of 3 things that hurt when I hear them. They are said with all good intentions I know, but they really sting.

1. "She's in a better place" - My faith would have to be pretty strong to truly believe that Isla is better off not with me and Dan. Yes, being with Jesus in Heaven must be pretty cool but we would have given her the most amazing life and already had so much love for her that we didn't get a chance to show her.
2. "Some things aren't meant to be" - If some things are not meant to be, then why could Dan and I not just be left in our little infertile world which, after 4 years, we'd finally accepted? She wasn't destined to be a "sick" baby - she caught a bug from me, her life-support and protector, which I didn't know I had caught and therefore died. She didn't even have the disease very badly, just enough to take her from us. 
3. "At least you know you can get pregnant" - Yes, it's great we got pregnant at all, but what if Isla really was our only chance at a family? Assuming we will get pregnant again just because we had Isla, can only lead to more heartache. I'm not naive any more. 

Day 5 Capture Your Grief - Memorial

I'm really 'into' memorial things. When Dad died, I bought art work by my friend who paints Wembury and my sister and I designed these prints which represent the coordinates for where we scattered Dad's ashes by the Mewstone in Wembury. 

I ran the Race for Life for Dad too

Was booked in to run it this year, but it was the day after having Isla, so couldn't do it. Definitely be doing it next year. 

For Isla, I've done a few things already and more to come. I have chosen the tattoo as the most current memorial thing I've done for her. 

 Forget-me-nots, crab apple blossoms in pink and a star at the top for dad. 

Her casket - I made the burial gown after getting out of hospital and made the teddy the day she was born - it stayed with us in Dan's pocket throughout labour and stayed with Isla at the hospital, the mortuary and the funeral home, to be buried with her in her beautiful resting place. 

Her resting place. We will plant a Crab Apple tree specially for Isla on December 1st. For now, I tied ribbon around the tree that is already at her grave. 

 I was up visiting her grave when she was first buried and there was nothing to mark it. I found some little stones and made a butterfly. Kept me busy for a while but it's still there and looks 'part of' the grave now. 

 I've added more bits to her grave since, including an artificial blossom branch and a little statue of a baby cradled in hands. I wanted people to recognise it was a baby's grave, but you can actually already tell because they leave a 'mound' where the person lays, to encourage it to return to nature. 

 I made more teddies (4 so far) like the one I made Isla and donated them to the delivery suite because they were just so unprepared for a mother going through a loss. Hopefully going to start working with someone on getting some proper memory boxes into Derriford Hospital. 

 The prayer flag I sent to Australia for Carly's Prayer Flag project. So proud of it!

So what's to come in memory of Isla? Well, the weekend of her due date we are climbing a mountain in the Brecon Beacons. Got to think of something to place at the top for her - probably a flower.

A friend of my mum is planning to host a dinner dance for the Snowdrop Appeal and my school are donating money and holding a 'Mufti day' for that charity too. 

Stay tuned!

If you want to donate to the Snowdrop Appeal, visit their JustGiving page here:

 

Day 4 Capture Your Grief - Treasured Item

Wow. A difficult one again. My most treasured item is Isla's memory box - because it's FULL of treasured items, including the dress she wore in hospital, a little teddy the midwife gave me, the muslin cloth we wrapped her in and the wee hat she wore on her perfect little head.

Also in there are photos, her hospital bands, her hand and foot prints, a letter I wrote her and other bits and bobs we've been given or bought along the way. 

But it was so hard to choose one photo, so I spent some time creating a collage of perfect memories. I love this!

Day 3 - After Loss Self-Portrait

Day 3 of Capture Your Grief and it's After Loss Self-Portrait today. It's hard to choose to be honest, so again I've chosen a main one - the most treasured and personal photo ever taken of me -  and then added some extras that show different aspects of the last almost-3 months of my life.

My beautiful baby girl and I, the night she was born sleeping

Even though it was the saddest moment of my life, I couldn't help but smile when I looked at her. She was so beautiful - just what I'd always wanted! A little bundle of perfection and she was all mine (and Dan's!). She didn't need to see me crying, I wanted her to feel happiness around her not feel tears. Yes, I know she was already gone, but she still needed hugs and joy. How could I not look at her wonderful face and smile through the pain?

I wish I had more photos of me holding her, but the ones I have are perfect nonetheless. Some other self-portraits since this moment are:

Family portrait

In France, after getting out of hospital but before Isla's funeral - smiling through the pain but usually breaking down shortly after

 Bought a new car on a whim - this colour/make but a brand new one! How tiny and impractical could I go?!

Me and my daughter in her beautiful resting place

With my Aching Arms bear at the Angel of the North

At a friend's wedding just this weekend

Day 2 - Capture your Grief - Before Loss Self-Portrait

Day 2 of Capture your Grief and it's time to dig out a Before Loss Self-Portrait. Now, I really don't have many, other than bump shots from when I was pregnant. I've put any I do have at the bottom of this post. The one I have submitted into the project is this one:

This was taken 2 days before we found out we had lost our miracle baby. I have no proper shots of me plus head as I was obsessed with chronicling my amazing growing body. I'm glad I can't see my face cos I don't think I'd recognise myself. A naive face, so utterly happy and excited that in 3 short months our very much wanted baby girl would arrive. Isla was born sleeping at exactly 26 weeks. I am jealous of the person in this picture as I can never be her again.

Other shots of me during pregnancy:

 14-15 weeks or so

 

About 15 weeks with my brother

Day 1 - Capture your Grief - Sunrise

As a start to the Capture your Grief month of photographs for  Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month (herewith to be referred to on my blog as PILA Month as it takes so long to type out!) I am posting this picture as my first entry for the subject of 'Sunrise'. 

I am drawn to this painting of a sunrise of the Mewstone in Wembury. I painted it for Dad's funeral guest book last January. We scattered his ashes near the Mewstone and when I see this painting it reminds me of the grief I felt nearly 2 years ago. But also now, I think of how my dad would be with all we're going through. He would be so amazingly supportive, sad and strong, all at the same time. He would have been the best granddad ever and wanted us to have our own wee family so badly. When I was pregnant, I always hated that he died before he knew he would be a granddad. But now he gets to look after Isla for us in Heaven. 

 This second picture isn't of a sunrise, but it's that moment in the sky where the clouds are slightly parted and the rays of gentle sunlight shine through the clouds, as if Heaven is trying to touch Earth. Such moments always take my breath away as I always imagined it was Dad saying Hi. This photo was taken on the way back from the funeral of my oldest, best friend's mum in Scotland. We stopped to photograph it as it was just so striking. Ever since then, whenever I see Heaven in this way, I think of Dad and now I think of Isla too.  She is up there with Dad and they are both forever in my heart - when I see the sky doing this, I feel closer to them both.