The journey of a grieving mother

 

‘I am sorry but there is nothing we can do to save your daughter’ these are the words that constantly replay around in my head, visions of me holding her with her big beautiful eyes, remembering every single expression she done while here on earth, from the small lines on her forehead as she looked up at me, to her perfectly shaped little mouth that I used to stroke ever so gently. No one can comprehend the loss of your own child unless they have walked the same path, from witnessing her last breath and yet feeling totally helpless as a parent to save her, something that was my duty, a duty to protect a duty that goes beyond anything else, a duty I feel as a mother failed to do.

Since we found out we were expecting, I made sure that everything I was eating and drinking would benefit our baby, I didn’t smoke or drink, I ate more veg, fruit, salad and drank as much water as I could, I stayed at home most of the time but I was happy, happy to ensure that our baby was safe and everything was going to be perfect.

The day we travelled back to Kerry was the same day we laid our daughter to rest, that very same evening we walked into our house, I remember it was quiet, I walked upstairs and there in front of me was the door for her nursery, untouched, everything in place ready for her, I grabbed my stomach and all of a sudden I felt ‘emptiness’, despair, sadness, failure of a mother, I walked into her room, everything was perfectly placed, her cot, changing station, nappies and baby wipes stocked up, even a towel ready by the side for her first wash, I looked down at my hands and nothing was there only drops of my tears. I sat on the floor and cried so hard it hurt, clenching on her blanket so tight, I held it as if she was there, just trying to see if I could feel like how it should be, am I going mad? No, I just could not register that she was gone and I was to never see her again in this life.  I remember the curtains in her room were open, the stars were so bright that night, I walked to the window and felt a wave of calm that she was there with me watching me through the stars.

During her burial I felt I could not let my true emotion out, if I started to cry I was petrified that I would not stop, I would collapse and not get back up, I have this constant feeling that my body had failed my daughter, that it was my fault she is not here today, the least I could of done was be strong for her before she flew with the angles, just like she was strong for us by giving us time.

It has already been 5 months since we welcomed her here and my heart is still so raw, I feel so much fear as time goes on, as my memories of her become slightly more faded, the emptiness has grown even more while I am here at home, I should have lack of sleep, I should be making bottles and have washing so high I don’t know where to start, but as soon as Keelan has gone to school I am left in the house of silence ... I look around and feel deflated, I try and keep myself busy making sure the house is perfect, washing is done but I find myself looking at the time counting down the hours Keelan will be home, to see his smile again, tell me about his day work together on his homework, then its time to make the dinner, Kevin comes home talks about his day I clean up after dinner, chill out then bedtime and repeat all the above. Being at home alday is a constant reminder of someone precious that I do not have, go for a walk I say, it will do me some good, so I do I start to feel positive again, I am walking taking in the fresh air, I then look ahead and see a lady with a pram, my heart races every time, it’s not their fault but in my mind it brings back the constant reminder of my most biggest loss. 

The eagerness of wanting some normality is taking over, I want to get back into work I am ready and so the job search continues sending CV’s and not hearing back makes me feel even more worthless, the recent loss of my granddad who was such a large factor in my life overwhelms me, is my life ever going to give me a break? I know there is always someone else more worse off but this is my feelings, my emotions and my battle as an angel mum which I think many other angel mums could relate too. I envy those people who have their career, see and talk to different people every single day, I am doing everything I can to get back in to some normality but I have to keep reminding myself that things do take time, grief is a process and I am only at the beginning. I have Keelan to think about my son who is my world, so I must try and pick myself up again and so I am starting tonight by going for a long walk, I now want to focus on getting myself fit agian mind and body, i've got to do this, I will do this and any bumps along the way I will jump over them with pure determination.

This is only the beginning of my journey....

Mother to an angel xox