Sunday, 24 October 2010


It is so sad to be disappointed – by life, by friends and by family. Of course it’s a natural thing, very human, but it’s sad all the same. I just consider it a fact of life. I used to get disappointed quite a lot as a child and after a certain point, I decided to roll with it. Shit happens, right? It stings, but if you apply a little balm (retail therapy, a good cry or moan), it is usually a temporary affliction for me.

The disappointment of losing Isla was crushing, of course, but the thing I didn’t really expect were people’s reactions to us. Let me be clear – a death in a family, especially a death of a child, is an incredibly difficult, awkward, weird thing to be a part of. I’ve lost both a parent and a child and let me tell you, losing a baby is the kind of thing that properly puts the shits up people. And I knew that. But I had no idea how disappointing people could be when you needed support the most.

When some people disappoint you (e.g. colleagues, acquaintances), you kinda just take it with a grain of salt. Sure, it hurts when people that you’re friendly with walk the other way when they see you coming towards them or pretend they don’t see you. And you know they did. Ouch. But you tend to think to yourself “Well, they ain’t shit anyway.”  Then there are those who talked to you nearly every day about your pregnancy but suddenly found the weather much, much more interesting. And you tend to think to yourself “Ouch, but oh well, it’s a hard topic and we’re not that close anyway.” And then there are the others that break your heart in a million different ways when you dare think about how they have disappointed you during the worst time in your life. I’m not going to single anyone out but their faces are there in my brain, as sharp as stiletto knife. And it hurts so much.

I’m not sure if lost baby mamas feel the same as me, but when someone hurts you purposely or passively after your loss, it feels as if they didn’t consider the loss as anything of real importance. With me, the central message is one of two: 1. “Because your baby wasn’t full term and because we didn’t get to meet her, she doesn’t hold the same importance as a “real” baby. So I’m just going to shit on you and/or totally ignore this barely inconsequential event.” And 2: “This is way too hard to deal with and I can see/hear that you’re in a lot of pain, but I’m going to be totally selfish and not going to go there with you even though I know you well enough to know that you would like to.” While this isn’t said or expressed obviously, actions speak louder than words.

I heard somewhere that “forgiveness liberates the soul”. I can’t forgive this type of disappointment. Not yet anyway. So I focus on the love we received over the past few months. My friends have been amazing. Truly breathtaking. They have been there for me in the truest sense of the world. In my darkest days, when contemplating suicide was less pie in the sky and more lining up the 5Ws, their being there helped to keep me going. They came through with texts, emails, phone calls, FB messages, SKYPE time and they were amazing, even when they weren’t trying very hard.  I found this pic on and thought it was so accurate.  So, so true.


  1. Gosh, I haven't checked your blog in so long. I am VERY, VERY, VERY happy to hear that you are still with us and that despite disappointments and struggles, you and your hubby are still keeping the angel's memory alive and are still fighting for your place in this world. I am wishing you guys so much that is awesome! And I'm sure that the sorta-fresh start in Canada will help. Wish I was going home with you. Any space in the suitcase? ;)

  2. I think the sorta-fresh start in Canada will def help. Shiloh and I want to come out and see y'all soon.

  3. I'm very glad to hear that you are having a fresh start in Canada and your baby will always be with you. May God bless you, with prosperity, good health and lovely home and children.

    Looking forward to your exciting new blogging from Canada!