Silence is Deafening

yesterday marked a milestone, one month.

One month since i held my son for the first and the last time

One month since i left the hospital empty handed and empty hearted.

One month since the bottom fell out of my world.

the flowers have long since faded and died,

the phone has stopped ringing and the

postman no longer brings sympathy cards.

when i see people they no longer ask how i am, or if i am doing ok

life, it seems, has returned to normal... for everyone else

in just 30 days

a month can seem interminably long when you're waiting for something exciting. i can remember month's that felt like years when we were trying to conceive Elianna and waiting for the day we could do a home pregnancy test. but this last month has gone by in the blink of an eye.

the memories of my son is fresh in my mind. Every time i close my eyes i still see his startlingly blue eyes, or his impossibly long legs or his dainty little fingers, and i feel the emptiness, the pain and the loss all over again. i can't believe its already been a month. I was told the other day as i cried in response to an unaware comment that it was ok to cry now as its still so fresh but in another month or two i will feel ok. i remember thinking "would this woman say this if i had lost something more tangible to her?" what if i'd lost my husband or my daughter. Surely such a trite comment wouldn't be ok in that situation.

so what makes it ok now? Is it because she has no point of comparison? or does she not perceive the loss of our baby as the death of our son? i could have spoken up, said something like "my son DIED i don't think i'm going to be OKAY in a couple of months" but i didn't... why? because it makes people uncomfortable. We can talk freely about mental illness, domestic violence, death from cancer and other killers so why not miscarriage or premature stillbirth? why do mothers and father have to suffer in silence after the loss of a much loved child?

Since we lost Jonathon i have discovered that so many of my friends carry the scars of baby loss. its heartbreaking to know that they have gone through this same pain, confusion and frustration. many of them being forced to swallow their grief as its expression became uncomfortable for the people in their lives to witness. How can we condone such callous treatment of our dear friends and family? i posted a note on my facebook the first week after Jonathon's passing. 20 things parents of Angels wish you would remember. i won't repost them all here as it is very long, but a few really rang some bells for me...

i wish you could tell me more than once that you are sorry my baby has died and that you are thinking of me, the truth is it tells me you care

i wish you wouldn't pretend my baby never existed. the truth is we both know he was growing within me

i wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over with in a matter of days/ weeks or months. the truth is it may get easier with time but i will NEVER "get over" this

above all please remember that this is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. the word miscarriage is small and easy but my baby's death is monolithic and awful. its going to take a while to figure out how to live with it. bear with me.

Now really i am lucky, i have had some truly wonderful friends be by my side through all of this, some of whom i didn't expect who have gone above and beyond to be supportive. However others who i did expect to be there for us have been noticably silent. i don't know why, perhaps they just don't know what to say? either way, their silence is deafening. By staying silent it says to me one of two things. Either "ï don't care" or"ÿour grief makes me too uncomfortable and i chose my own comfort over yours" Thats fine. its their pejrogative, but it still hurts. i wish i could say to everyone who has ever held back words of support for fear of saying the wrong thing. "your words may or may not hurt me, but nothing you can say will ever hurt as much as your silence might".

please i beg of you. if a loved one or even someone you just met has a loss of this kind. don't withdraw. by all means give them their space but please make sure they know you are there for them and thinking of them. this is the most lonely experience of any mother's life. we become members of an exclusive club that no-one ever wants to belong to. A club of silent tears and hollow hearts. your hug, your card saying ï'm thinking of you", message, phone call or flowers might be the only acknowledgement that mother gets of her grief that whole day/week or month. please don't withhold it because you feel uncomfortable. to my lovely friends who have been through this themselves; Sarah, Nikki, Steff, Rachel, Sara, Jess, Gen and anyone i have missed, i'm so sorry for your loss. i wish you had never experienced this pain and that you were holding your son or daughter now rather than mourning them with empty arms. I hope that you have a chance today to remember your baby and the love you feel for them. xoxo

As i said above i have had some absolutely lovely friends who have done some absolutely lovely things to show they care. i would like to publicly thank them now.

To Rachael, Katy and Cath thank you for the beautiful flowers, that put a smile on my face whenever i walked pass them. it meant more than i can say.

To Nikki words cannot express the love i felt when i opened my little "jonathon heart" i have been wearing it constantly and it makes me feel close to my baby boy, thank you so much.

To Jacqui, your letter and your heartfelt words of sympathy had me in tears. i love you girl and value our friendship so much, thank you for being there.

To Darla, Deb and Steff. thank you for your words of wisdom, encouragement and support. you three women have been the backbone of my slow journey back to the land of the living. i don't know what i would've done without you

To simone, thank you for your visit. having you here to actually hug and talk to in person meant so much to my healing process. your letter was hard to read but i'm glad you shared it with us

To Cilla, Aunty louise, Nanna, dad and sandra, Kristy and everyone else who sent cards, you made our day/s. Simply knowing that someone cares and is thinking about us eases the grief just a little, so thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

To Kel, kate, Sarah and Fleur. thank you for the regular messages on my facebook wall telling me you are thinking of me. its really nice to know we're not forgotten.

To my mum and steve's mum... thank you seems like hardly enough to fully express our gratitude for your continued love and support. you grieved our loss with us, you felt it as deeply and personally as if he were your own son. we are sorry for the loss of your grandson.