This morning grief hit me like a tidal wave, unexpected and all consuming I wailed at the sudden longing and emptiness that was dragging me under again. My heart physically aching, I buried my face into the pillow to drown out the sound of my own cries, a sound I can’t bear, disconnected and not of myself.
That’s what grief does, sneaks up on you when you least expect it, destroying the façade of normality you’ve been building back up, and forcing you to feel everything all over again.
There is no ‘normal’ anymore, not that there was ever much with me, but now I struggle with my ‘difference’ and with the word ‘mum’. I gave birth, and everyone tells me, “you are Robyn’s mum, you always will be”, but I don’t feel like a mum. The only way I can describe how I feel is this; when I was in labour, when I was so determined to push through the physical and emotional pain, it’s then that I felt like ‘mum’. I had a purpose, willing myself to give birth to our daughter, but as soon as Robyn was born, in that silent instance, I felt alone, just me, not quite the same me as before, but not ‘mum’.
I struggle with that empty word the most, but in one way it’s what keeps me moving forward, keeps me as strong as I can be, because I want nothing more than to be ‘mum’.
Since Robyn’s funeral, the sun has shone and the world pulls me out into that sunlight to move forward a little more each day. My husbands love and strength through his own grief fuels my determination for our future. The support and love of our family and friends inspires me and reminds me of all the good in people, throwing me a life jacket when those waves of sadness cover me.
Through the symbolism of her name our home will now always be filled with gifts and images of our little red Robyn, and with the help of Tara (aftertheraincomessunshine.com) and Clare (mudandnettles.com) she will fly free. *Robyn’s travel bug is currently in Portugal (pictured in the main post image) and fingers crossed she will explore many more places. I can’t express how grateful we are for all these wonderful gestures and gifts to help us ‘move forward’, whilst also helping us to remember our beautiful daughter in a positive way.
I read this post recently: Mother & Child Are Linked At The Cellular Level. As I have previously mentioned, I take no comfort in religion. Discussions on bereavement and baby loss sites and forums using terms such as ‘angel babies’ and talking about heaven, etc make me feel even more ‘different’ and excluded, but this, this is beautiful. To quote Laura’s post:
Any woman who has ever been pregnant, even if she miscarried so early she never knew she was with child, is likely to be a microchimera (a person who carries the cells of another person). Fetal cells have the imprint of her child’s father and his ancestry. Fetal cells can be shared from one pregnancy to another, meaning the cells of older siblings may float within younger siblings.Laura Grace Weldon
Last but most definitely not least, the most positive of all is the fact that so far you have raised £350 in Robyn’s memory for the baby charity, Tommy’s and we also have a donation to give to the maternity department at our local hospital too. Thankyou! If anything positive can come from our daughters death it has to be the gift of life to others X
I’m going to be adding a permanent link to Robyn’s travel bug in the sidebar, so you can follow her travels!