So this post was inspired by another local angel mama, the lovely, strong and brave Sally. She reached out to me at the very start of my journey and although we had never met before she offered support and guidance to me during this very difficult time. She shared her’s and Brodie’s story with me and has helped me immensely over the past few weeks. She sparked in me this idea of how baby loss brings new friendships into your life, with women you may well never have crossed paths with before this point. In a way our angels have given us all so much more than we realise, by bringing us together with other amazing strong women in this lost baby tribe, which I am honestly thankful to have in my life right now.
This post was intended as a normal Instagram/Facebook post but once I started writing I realised I had a lot more to say than would fit in the 2000 odd character limit, so here is the start of todays thoughts and you will find the rest of it over on the blog (link in bio as usual)
At all points in your life new relationships and friendships develop. From starting school as a child, to sports classes and after school clubs, going to university or in your daily work life. So when you become a parent this is no different. It’s human nature to crave the solidarity and companionship of others who understand and relate to this point in our lives. The term mama tribe is used a lot in this day and age and finding that group of mamas in which you feel safe and welcome can be hugely important to any new mum as you adjust to a new way of life.
Real friendships are built on shared experiences and ideologies, but what happens when your experience of motherhood is no longer the norm? At first you feel lonely because you do not conform to the definition of motherhood held by the majority, you don’t have your child to parent in the same way as other mothers. Your experience of motherhood no longer aligns with those other mothers around you and you momentarily feel lost, not knowing how you can be a mother to child who is no longer physically present on earth. You cannot involve yourself in play groups, or participate in conversations about breastfeeding and sleep patterns, or share in the joy of all those little milestones. When your child dies all of this is taken away from you in an instant.
Finding friends in this new world isn’t just about stopping the feelings of loneliness, although it greatly helps in this aspect there is so much more to it than that. You require support from others who at least share and understand the pain of grief in baby loss, as it really is a grief like no other. To lose something you have physically created, you have grown inside you for how ever long it may have been, it’s like losing a part of yourself and knowing it will never return. Other bereaved parents are able to validate your feelings and emotions. They can help guide you through situations you never expected to find yourself in. Although our stories and journeys are all very different, and we each deal with grief in a very individual way, we each understand the life altering impact losing a child makes on us.
But it’s not only about the need to find others to support and validate us, what I’ve also found to be very true in this strange world is we nearly all feel a need to help others in this boat also. Ask any loss mother, and I can assure you nearly all will say they would just like to stop other parents going through the pain and heartbreak they themselves have had to endure. It’s as if we know our experience is shared by so few others we actively seek out those who understand, not only in the community local to us but also online. This baby loss community stretches around the world and is felt by mothers from every walk of life. And we all seem have this almost innate motherly instinct to want to help ease the pain others in this shitty situation.
Friends already present in your life may well be a huge support and may be able to offer comfort but they will never have a real understanding of what you are going through, they will never be able to put themselves in your shoes and really empathise with the crazy waves of grief and emotions you are battling on a daily basis. And in all honesty you would never want them to, you would never want another to have to feel the pain you are enduring.
I honestly believe there is no other human experience that changes your outlook on life in such a ground breaking way that losing a child does. It alters your entire being, your whole understanding of life and its fragility shifts and there is nothing you can do to stop it. You’ll have seen me saying before that there is this divide in my life now, a before Ebben and an after Ebben. The me before Ebben no longer exists, she is very very different to the me that I now am. And just with any other experience in life we have a need to find others who understand and comprehend this altered state of being.
People joke that the bereaved parents club is the only club that no one ever wants to join, but you have no choice in becoming a member and once you are in the club it’s a life time membership. All of which is true, but I will also say this club is full of some the strongest and most inspiring women I have ever met and I am proud to call many of them friends. I’ve found my loss mama tribe and I need them in my life!
So thank you. Thank you to every loss mama I have spoken to over the last few weeks, everyone who’s reached out to me or has allowed me to reach to them. Thank you for the support, the comfort, the beautiful comments on my photos of Ebben, the midnight conversations when my emotions became to much for me to handle alone, the sensible responses on my irrational thoughts, for giving me the strength and courage to keep going daily, for the belief that it will get better, it will get easier and there is a brighter future somewhere. And thank you most for sharing your stories with me and for allowing me to share Ebben’s with you. For allowing me to know your little angels even after they have left this earth, for giving me the honour and privilege of speaking their names and for speaking Ebben’s in return. I thank you!
And I’d like to dedicate this post to just a handful of these amazing women and their babies, without whom I would not be as strong and brave as I am able to be. To Alicia and Alfie, Sally and Brodie, Lauren and Isla, Katie and Jonah, Beth, Baba and Roy, Laura and Joseph, Gemma and Zephyr, Rachel and Heidi, Amy and Toby, Mary and Poppy, Roxy and Isobel, Kajal and Aurelia, and Rebecca and Joshua. Even though I have never met most of you in the real world, you have each stood by me and my grief at some point over the last 3 months and I thank you.