Child loss is relatively unspeakable in our society isn't it. It goes against the grain. We don't like death generally, because it reminds us that this old world isn't permanent; and because we can't imagine being nothing, we tend to avoid deep conversations about it. None of us like endings particularly, aside from the moment a shit film finishes or we walk away from a terrible relationship. But add in the death of a baby and this uncomfortable theme takes on a whole new level of awkwardness. I have hypothesised many a time that baby loss is such a horrendous subject that most people try to minimise it, or shut it down, or try and draw parallels which just aren't really appropriate. People also don't like to imagine that there's an event which could happen of which there is no getting over. An eternal pain. I suspect human beings are generally, at the crux of it, optimistic beings, and so dealing with a person who may remain partially or wholly sad forever is uncomfortable to say the least. Humans also like to try and fix things, so it's doubly frustrating to realise there's no fixing this forever loss. We can only take so much gloominess before we start wondering if we are absorbing negativity, without realising that the negativity is actually just love with no real channel. It is those reasons why baby loss isolates us. Very few people are brave enough to take that journey with us; to gently hold our hands and say "I'm willing to listen to your words forever, I will talk about your child always".
It is so sad that a common theme in our journeys is a breakdown in friendships and relationships. We not only navigate the start of a new, unwanted life but also one which is often much lonelier. How troubling that society forces us to the sidelines at the very time when we need surrounding with love. We stumble across unfortunate comments and circumstances and find ourselves somehow needing to fit in, rather than the outside adapt to the shape of our loss. We, the square pegs are expected to become round, to be understanding of other people's discomfort and to be forgiving of their clumsiness and avoidance. Why shouldn't the hole (society) try and become more square? Why can't it take a minute and be understanding of our loss and forgive us our ongoing distress.
This January, two years after Freddie's death, I found myself suffering from more grief and anger than I ever had before. The curious and devastating truth of my loss, was that for two years I mostly contained my grief. I did it for my other children, for my rainbow child, but it was mainly shock and avoidance. I have struggled with the guilt of his absence, the loss of a child before, feelings of being punished.. the list is fairly long. But sadly by the time I had reached full acceptance and was hurting the most deeply, everyone else seemed to want to move on. They had dealt with what had happened as much as was comfortable, and by the time I was completely raw with the loss of my beautiful boy, they were fairly baffled by the strength of my feeling at this point in time. He was forgotten in conversations about how many grandchildren there were, in presents containing photos OF the grandchildren. I received two birth announcements - one the day of the anniversary of his funeral. Only one family member messaged me on Freddie's birthday... just one. My grief by that point was glossed over, minimised, or at best placated. I tried on a number of occasions to talk about how I was feeling, to release my pain for them to see, to tell them I felt alone and was hurting. I was told "people just don't know what to say, they just don't understand", I was also told "you have other children to focus on " (as if they weren't my reason for getting up each day), and I was also told "perhaps it's time to move on". Where do you go with grief when society bolts its doors?
Society needs to set itself free in its conversations about death. Nobody should have to be the uncomfortable silence. This week I'm getting involved with the Dying Matters Awareness Week (http://www.dyingmatters.org/AwarenessWeek) in the hopes that we can open up conversations and learn how to support bereaved people better, whoever they have lost and whatever the circumstances. Of course we'd rather ignore death until someone becomes so old or ill that it becomes a release (then we can insert comforting platitudes about "being at peace" or "having had a good innings" or "not suffering anymore"), but it can happen when we least expect it, and ultimately we are all just a phonecall away from something life changing. I can't ask you to imagine being without your loved ones, but I can ask you to imagine feeling like nobody wants to listen. Let's be prepared to support, to love, to be brave and accept someone's journey however bleak or scary it may seem. Isn't is what any of us would expect?
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