It’s been 20 months since Zia died, 20 months too long. I should be dealing with an almost two-year old, stressing over the potential replay of my son’s kind of terrible two’s. I sat in an outdoor play area this weekend past and couldn’t help but watch the many little girls, decorating their Easter biscuits with such care and precision, so unlike the boys, my son included, who is interested in such things for such a short time.

Boys are impatient to get into the play pen and roll around and wrestle. Most days I am content, living in the now, accepting that there is no other way, but there are days when the truth of my loss is just too much to bear. I think almost of the six months past, of baby Breeze, who I miscarried. He/she would have been here next month. Would that baby have been a boy or girl. I will never know. Just like I will never know what it is like to go to a boy band concert with my daughter or have mother daughter lunches and pampering sessions.

I will never do her hair and pick out pretty outfits and girly toys. That is a deep emptiness which will never be filled. No-one is likely to say she looks like me, there will be no stressing over periods, teenage hormones, boys being after her. She will never need mother to daughter advice on life and the way of the world. Those are things i can never experience, those are gone with her. Everyday I am grateful for my life, my family, that I have a living child at all but everyday I am still broken, still incomplete, still constantly missing.

I have slowly picked up the pieces of my broken life but it will never be fully repaired, not when there is such a big part of me missing. It is not easy living after the loss of a baby, although we do, we do proceed, put one foot in front of the other, pressing on as they say. But deep down we know that nothing will ever be the same. There is always a sadness, a deep deep sadness which you carry with you, willingly.

Internal Dialogue

Sometimes Zia seems like a work of fiction she says..once upon a time you had a daughter but you barely remember anything about her or your time with her. That all got taken away from you when she died. She is a story with no beginning…just an awful end…the end…the end…the end…

Is there not supposed to be a biological life cycle for everyone, its natural, normal, acceptable, the way of things, the way of life. One is born, one lives, one dies. She lived but not long enough, she was born but still, she died too soon. Where is her life cycle, the one recognised by science. The one she deserved.

You can argue her existence in your effort to break the silence, but there is always my voice, my angry miserable voice that screams dead dead dead, she is dead, she never got to live, she never knew you, she never knew the love you have for her, she never saw the light, she never saw you, she didn’t need you, you are not good enough

She began and she ended..the end..the end

Fancy it up all you like but can you truly say you knew her, create in your mind someone, a heroine in your work of fiction, Zia you may call her, she isn’t real. Real is what you can see, touch, feel, embrace…I hear those angry words…real grows, laughs, plays… she real then?

Reality I shout back is holding your lifeless baby in your arms, reality is silence, deafening, cruel silence that shatters your soul, reality angry voice in my head, is that you cannot wish her away, reality is that your anger is because of her, because she is who you are, she created you, without her…dear dear voice in my head, you..would not exist….

She gave you this life

She lived

My daughter died
One cold day in winter,
She drifted off into an unending sleep
She struggled for a day, maybe two,
Trying to unwind herself from the cord tightening around her,
I never knew she was in trouble
But I know she tried to get free
she couldnt 
She was a baby
So listening to my heartbeat,
She died
In the place she knew as home
In her safe place she fell asleep forever
I met her sleeping
I never heard her cry
I never felt her fingers wrap around mine
Now I search for her in the stars above me
I call out to her in my dreams
I stare at the sunset and imagine her staring back at me
My daughter died world
And she took a part of me with her
A part that was always hers
She died, yes,
But more importantly she lived

Capture your grief Day 13: Season

Day 13

The winter will always remind me of you, as the cold touched my skin this first year without you, I remember June and July, waiting in anticipation for your arrival, having to say goodbye, sitting under the winter sun in those weeks that followed. It felt right that the whole world was cold with me. You were born and left one cold winter day. I found out before the sun was high in the sky. Winter as cold as your skin, on the day I last got to touch you. You were conceived in the summer, grew through those hot months and into autumn. We never had Spring together. I always find that to be the most ironic thing. This Spring, these beauties started blooming, they have never bloomed before and the tree they come bloom from was probably chopped down years ago. It is a dry stump and from it these amazing flowers came, a Spring gift from you..

Capture your grief Day 12: Music

DSCN3785Soon after Zia died, a song I heard on the movie Shrek kept ringing in my head. When I listened to it again, I knew why. It was such a beautiful expression of my thoughts and feelings at that time. It’s called “Darling I do” by Landon Pigg. Golden leaves looked brown to me,
The world had less color without you
Shapes in the sky, looked plain to my eye,
The world had less color without you

I know pleny’ of people with eyes closed
They don’t see you like I do
Darling I do

Notes on the keys, meant nothing to me
The world didn’t sing without you
Birds in the trees fell silent for me
The world didn’t sing without you
Without you

I know pleny’ of people with eyes closed
They don’t see you like I do
Darling I do, darling I do see you

I know pleny’ of people with eyes closed
They don’t see you like I
I know pleny’ of people with eyes closed
They don’t see you like I know

Pleny’ of people with eyes closed
They don’t see you like I do
Darling I do, darling I do, darling I do,I do,
Darling I do, darling I do, see you

This is a song I most associate with Zia.


Capture your grief Day 11: Altar

My ZiaDSCN4191

DSCN3877We light our candles for Zia and recently baby breeze on a special side table in our home. We light candles there for Brady too, our hopes for health and happiness for him. My husband often lights a lamp and incense which makes the whole experience so much more prayerful and meaningful. We have Zia’s 4d scan picture and other special items that remind us of her on a shelf in our living room and having these items there, makes us feel that much closer to her in this deep absence.