Yesterday I heard a friend describe baby loss as an isolating event. I hadn't thought about it on that way before, but it really is an excellent way to describe what happens when a baby dies. No one else understands exactly how you feel; other loss parents will understand to a degree, but you are the only one who has experienced your story. When friends and family don't mention Ariella, or say something to imply Levi is my only baby, the isolation strikes. It strikes again when I'm sitting with a group of mums discussing labour and birth. Because it's a hard decision whether or not to mention my daughter's birth - will it be met with awkwardness or acceptance? Or perhaps it will invoke pity, I think that's the worst of all. Feeling alone in a group, being the "quiet mum" in most situations, this is the isolation that baby loss brings.
And then there are days like yesterday, International Pregnancy and Infant loss Awareness Day. My Facebook newsfeed was filled with candles lit for my girl and other babies, photos of precious childen gone too soon, and awareness raising images. The ones that touched me the most were the images shared by friends who haven't experienced their own loss. It truly felt that bereaved and non-bereaved parents were in this together. Side by side. No isolation to be found. And it was wonderful.
In memory of Ariella Jade and all babies gone too soon.
