For Sadie

Thursday, April 3, 2008

I can’t stop thinking about Sadie and Jen and Stu, and grieving for their loss. Every time I pick up Callum, I think that Jen’s arms must be aching from not being able to hold her daughter. It’s just not fair.

It might seem weird that I can mourn so easily for a baby I never met, born to people that I have never met in person. First of all, I think, it could have easily been me, 2 years ago, with newborn Oliver so far away from my family. Also, since having children, such circumstances have become so much more acutely emotional; you can imagine the loss because you often fear it (e.g. is Callum just really peacefully sleeping or has something happened…) But mainly it’s because I’ve been following Jen’s story so closely; their move to the UK, experiencing life in London, knowing they wanted to have a child from comments she left on a post of mine, and then reading about her adventure through pregnancy and new parenthood. So we’ve never met, but we have conversed through comments and emails.

Overall I guess it’s kind of like following a story in a novel or in a film, and something abrupt and awful has just happened to the main character and you never saw it coming and it brings tears to your eyes. Except in this case, it’s real life, and it’s the most tragic thing.

Sadie was gorgeous, a big baby like Callum, so big she never looked like a newborn. And it always struck me how bonded Jen was with her from the beginning, how much love she obviously had for her. I didn’t experience that with Oliver; I felt like I was in shock and had a little post traumatic stress (from the birth) and it took me a while to bond with him.

This wasn’t how the story was supposed to go. I’m just desperately sad.

There are other blogs I read where the authors have experienced the loss of children. It’s always been a difficult subject to read about, their grief over such tragedy – it’s uncomfortable to face the inevitable ‘that could be me’ when you scan their words. Kate at sweet|salty has recently reminded me that we are all kind of walking the tightrope until something pushes you off and you too get to experience the depths of despair. I remember that one author speculated that some readers were there just to hear about their child’s death. That’s not me; the blogs I read, I’m there because these people know how to write. Because I want to keep hearing the story. Even if there are some really upsetting parts to it.

I don’t have a very interesting story right now. For me, this blog is my little outlet to complain, to ponder, to just talk to the universe I guess. I don’t expect a response from the universe. If I did it for the comments I wouldn’t keep doing it! But I find I feel more mentally healthy telling some kind of story to someone.

But I need to change the story a little bit. I’m going to resolve to stop whining so damn much about how I am struggling with parenthood right now. It’s kicking my butt, and I’m letting it. But you know what? So what. The tension that exists while trying to take care of a 5 month old and a 27 month old at the same time, feeling like I’ve lost myself in this misery, it’s petty stuff. Basically I’m not that great at being a mum right now (or maybe ever) and I just need to get over it. They are currently healthy, mostly happy and I’ll forgive myself eventually. I’ll go back to work in a few months and it won’t necessarily get easier, but it’ll be a different challenge that will at least include Mummy being able to talk to adults all day. I am a firm believer in quality of time spent together, not quantity.

So, Sadie, because of you, everyone who has read your mum’s blog post has hugged their children a little tighter, and thanked <insert higher power/the stars/whatever> that their babies are okay, but we despair that you are not. And the hundreds or perhaps thousands of people who now know what happened send their deepest condolences, and experience the sorrow too.

Advertisements

2 Responses to “For Sadie”

  1. Connie Says:

    I know exactly how you feel. I never met Jen and her beloved Sadie, but I feel like I know them personally by her stories and I cried when I got to the last entry. I just wrote the same as you about my baby boy. I can’t imagine losing him! My heart hurts for this wonderful mommy named Jen.

    Your baby is beautiful!

  2. Julie Says:

    What a great post! I know exactly what you mean about Jen & Stu and of course, Sadie. Breaks my heart, too and I have hugged and kissed the faces off my little girls, perhaps the younger one a little more since she was close in age with Sadie. My heart aches for them.

    Life is so precious and it’s a shame we take so much for granted, isn’t it?

    Have a great weekend!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: