I didn't post yesterday. I had a funny day. Getting ridiculously angry about house move not happening still - it seems to be consuming so much of my emotions. So I didn't feel I could give this the proper attention yesterday. I had a lovely afternoon with a friend and her kids but by the evening just needed to chill out with Homeland and a glass of wine.
So, is there a scent I associate with Isla? Not really, I guess. The only thing I 'smell' is her little hat, dress, muslin and blanket that she was in while in hospital with me. The funeral home washed them for me and gave them to me after her burial and they are so precious to me. I bury my face in them and although I can only smell washing powder now, I can imagine the wonderful scent of a newborn baby or talcum powder or even a dirty nappy. Scents I never got to smell with Isla.
Wow, we are so blessed to have so many around us. We have the most amazing friends and family.
My family surrounded Dan and I from the moment they found out Isla had died in me. They cried with us, made us laugh through the tears and have provided immense love when we needed it most.
Friends have rallied around us and made us feel like we're not going through this alone. I'm sorry if your photo is not in the photo - it doesn't mean you're not supportive, I just ran out of room! Thank you for the invites out to coffee or drinks, thank you for stopping in, thank you for coming to Isla's funeral, thank you for the texts just to check on me. You are all stars!
The larger photos in the collage are of course Dan, my wonderful husband. There is no way on Earth I could have gotten through the last 3 months without Dan. He has been my rock but also someone to cry with. He is amazing. I'm sorry I can be such a pain, Dan!
Then there's my mum. What a fantastic mum I have. Both Dan and I have been blown away by how supportive, loving and caring she has been. She has cried with us, hugged us, screamed with us and driven 400 miles to be with us over and over. Thank you, mum. Neither Dan nor I could have done any of this without you by our side and we shall be forever grateful. xxx
(click to enlarge photo)
Symbols aren't something I usually associate with. Lots of things remind me of Isla but not necessarily 'Symbols'. But I do find significance for Isla in beautiful things. Such as flowers.
The Snowdrop Appeal are an amazing charity who I will mention properly later on in this project. They raised money initially for two cold cots to go into Derriford Hospital. That meant I was able to spend 2 precious days with Isla and be her mummy in the only sense of the word I now know. They are now raising money for a separate wing for bereaved parents at the hospital, which would save us the pain of delivering and staying on the main labour ward. So there's a snowdrop in my collage.
There is also:
~ A Forget-Me-Not heart shape - obvious reasons for that one and one of the flowers in my tattoo.
~ Some wildflowers - we will plant these at Isla's grave to keep her 'alive'.
~ Dandelion seeds - The literature I was sent home from hospital used these as a symbol of new life, new hope and new dreams. Also a symbol of time passing.
~ Crab apple blossoms - we will be planting a crab apple tree for Isla in December and I have blossoms tattooed on my side too.
~ A view of the wildflowers (with the rock) that are at Yealmpton Woodland Burial Ground, where Isla lays.
~ The large pink flower and the flowers on the beach were photographed for me by the wonderful Catherine of Gabriel's Garden. Catherine chooses a photo for each baby and then takes the flowers to the beach to be released into the wind. She specially chose this one for Isla.
So maybe I do do symbolism after all?!
You never imagine that you will go into hospital pregnant and full of hope but come out with a bunch of information about funerals for babies. It's not right. Parents aren't supposed to bury their children, no matter the age.
Dan and I didn't really think about the practicalities of organising a funeral too much but since I had a few days in hospital after having Isla, I started to consider the options. Baby garden with the other babies, a grave yard plot or something else. Driving out to see Dad in the beautiful South Hams, we had driven past a sign for the Woodland Burial Ground a hundred times at least. It had caught my eye a few times over the years as somewhere I thought was a lovely idea, but I'd want to be cremated so it never really registered properly.
But it popped into my head in that hospital room and just felt right. Close to Dad's home, near our favourite dog walks, and somewhere we would feel comfortable visiting Isla. For me, the big selling point was that she would be surrounded by nature. Beautiful flowers and trees growing around her forever, creatures thriving in the earth and butterflies loving being around her. She would be surrounded by beauty and growth - she never got to grow up but could be amongst life. The idea is that eventually the plots will return to nature and the whole site will be a wild woodland once again.
I think it's perfect. (click to enlarge)
It was a lovely day, the sun was shining. It was a quick 'service' by a minister we know well, Andy Caldwell - very simple but all we needed. For us, it was about having our loved ones around us. We had originally wanted it to be small, just the 2 of us and direct family. But more and more people asked to come, wanted to be with us and support us, recognising our daughter. She touched more people than we could have fathomed and that became clear on the 30th July 2012.
The photo shows me standing aside her grave to show the size of it really. I was taken aback by how tiny she looked compared to other adult-sized mounds of earth. You can also see the little butterfly I made for her. The other photo is a poem I tied to the tree that is at the head of her grave. It flew away into the wind over the next few days, which I liked - she took it for herself! The ribbons are still there and I've added more to her grave since.
These last photos are how it currently looks:
What a lovely subject today. Certainly less painful but nonetheless poignant than the other days so far.
I love having significant treasures around my neck. For instance, when Dad got ill, Dan bought me a cross saying "Every little helps" although he doesn't believe in 'all that stuff' really! I wore it solidly for at least 2 years, through Dad dying and IVF treatments. Then mum gave me a different cross which Dad had given her when she was younger. So then I wore that one. That's the cross in the middle in the photo below. I then wore that one for about a year solidly too!
The day we vowed to stop 'trying' for a baby was the day of the cancelled Ireland 6-Nations game last February. So in addition to the cross from mum/dad, I had put a shamrock pendant on the chain too. It's one of those ones where it has a real flower inside the resin. I was still wearing it when we got the positive pregnancy test, so wore it the whole pregnancy. I took it off the day we found out Isla had died. I'm not sure I'll be able to wear that one again, and didn't photograph it today.
When Isla was born sleeping, I realised I needed another piece of jewellery that I could buy myself and wear daily. So I found a real-flower in resin one, shaped like a heart with little forget-me-nots inside. It's beautiful and is the one on the right in the photo.
My birthday was 1 month exactly after Isla was born, on 13th August. A day I didn't really feel like celebrating and I was lucky enough to have a lot of my family around me. My mum sent me a beautiful necklace (on the left) with a card that read:
.... I don't want to overwork things or be morbid or anything, but I chose this necklace for lots of reasons. I wanted something in Rose Quartz as it stands for Hope, Love and Healing, which I want for you. When I saw this particular design, I knew it was the one I wanted because the description on the Hot Diamonds website described it as being 'cradled' in the silver flowers. I thought that was a lovely image and made me think of wee Isla being cradled in her natural surroundings, especially when we get some flowers planted. And, then, the 'Hot Diamonds' bit is a bit of a link to your Dad as he and I bought you Hot Diamond things for your graduation [and my 21st birthday]. So, lots of symbolism and nice thoughts! I hope you like it.
Well, I love it. It's very special and gets worn on very special occasions!
All these necklaces are so special to me. I remember Dan phoning me from town as he was looking for my birthday present. I've always wound him up that he would have to buy me a full eternity ring on the birth of our first child. Well, Dan was in the jewellers when he rang to ask if I wanted one, having had Isla. What a difficult question to ask and even more difficult to answer. I said No, as it turns out. I have the necklaces to remind me of Isla and I'd love to have an eternity ring on the birth of a living child. I've got enough memories of Isla and I'm running out of space on my fingers!
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.
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.
- "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.
- "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.
- "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.
