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Parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion we learn for others, having been through this mess — and see it reflected back at you, acknowledged and understood.

Thanks to photographer Xin Li and to artist Stephanie Sicore for their respective illustrations and photos.

for one and all > Hello all of you from a long time ago

.. are you still lurking around here like I do? And are wondering why this space got so quiet? One post in the last 10 days with one reply!
GITW has been my safe place since I found it six years ago. Where I can rant and be understood, ask questions and get answers from fellow loss parents who just „get it“. Would love to see a bit more activity here! So how are you doing, you lurkers from a long time ago? The fact that you are reading this makes me think that you are still have a thing or two to share.

I’ll start! Things have shifted a lot. We lost our second daughter in 2012 to PTL. I feel nowhere near as raw as I used to. Other kinds of losses have been added. New layers grief have overlapped each other, good things have happened. There is enough scar tissue for life to be good again. With an underlying feeling of vulnerability, a bit of fear and waiting for the next shoe to drop. Ebbs and flows, but I get a feeling it‘s here to stay.

I still think of her a lot. More in a pondering, fleeting sort of way. Unexpected triggers can still throw me off balance, but they don’t floor me and incapacitate me like they used to. I flinch. I take a moment. And then I am usually ok again. With a good cry at some point around Christmas - it is just that time of year. I finally got out of the hospital a few days before Christmas that year and the memories are just too awful. And I still can’t talk about her without welling up. That bothers me a bit. I would like to be able to talk about her a bit more freely, but tears make people uncomfortable and I feel so self conscious with blotchy eyes, which I get right away annoyingly. Babies and pregnancies around me have become bearable, to a point where I can feel genuinely happy and hold a newborn. That took a long time. We found some traditions for her anniversary that evolved over the years. I am not one to do spectacular things to honour her I found out (a bit disappointed with myself) but that day is hers.

So that was me. Took me a few attempts of type and delete to finally post this! I hope this will get some of you, who also wonder what happened to all these people that filled this space with love and empathy, to say hello and tell us how life has been? I’d love to hear. Just .. let us not do the rainbow baby parade. This path is not everyone‘s.

B
May 27, 2019 | Unregistered CommenterB
As someone who has only been in this baby loss world for 3 months, I appreciate your perspective and honesty. It feels like I have such a long road ahead (learning to live without my baby girl). Thanks for checking back in here.
May 27, 2019 | Unregistered CommenterK
Lost our boy in July of 2014 and still check in to this site every few weeks and post fairly regularly. I don't have a lot of people I can relate to about my baby's death so I still come here. I think a lot of people are reading and perhaps choose not to post or don't post often. It's a difficult and personal subject but wonderful to have the support of others and great to have this space to vent.
May 28, 2019 | Unregistered CommenterEm
Thanks for posting this B. I still come here a lot, too, and have been thinking about how to contribute to this thread for a while now. I miss my daughter so much when I let myself really, deeply think about what happened, what she's missing out on, all we'll never know about who she would've been. I mean, I miss her all the time, but when I really, really start to think about what was lost when she died - her whole life and a whole version of ours - it just devastates me. I don't let myself go there often. There's not much time for that these days. This place means so much to me because it is somewhere where I can remember and acknowledge that I am a bereaved mother even when I don't post or reply much anymore.
My daughter also died in 2012 - I remember you, B, from that time. Thank you for reaching out to those of us who have been around for a long while and fallen silent - or mostly so - with time. Still here. Still grateful for this community.
June 7, 2019 | Unregistered CommenterJLD
Hey, it's me, Li. JLD, I think I remember you!
Hi B. My daughter was born, and passed, in July 2011. Glow got me through a lot. Coming up on my tough time of year now, first my birthday, then hers. It has been easier in recent years, but this year it is feeling very heavy. There has been a birth in our extended family, and this little baby looks remarkably like Marlo. I have been weeping in the shadows, and it has been years since I did that. I have also found myself living 2 houses down from the funeral director that cremated my girl. The universe has some interesting ways of fucking with us, wouldn't you say? B, I hear you on the rainbow baby parade, this is about us. I too would love to hear some old voices. Voices that just nailed it when I was drowning in the most surreal pain I think I will ever know.
I will need to have a look around, it has been so long. Hello to all. Welcome, and I am sorry if you are new. You have found the right place.
June 13, 2019 | Unregistered CommenterLi
Hi Li - I remember you and Marlo and the beautiful garden you made for her with contributions from this community. I watched that little video you linked to so many times...Sending some love your way!

I'm feeling glad that June is over now. I have two living children and June is full of end-of-year recitals and tournaments and assemblies and celebrations and it is one of those times where it is just so jarringly obvious to me and completely NOT obvious to anyone else that someone is missing in all of these dances and graduations and celebrations of various achievements. I wrote here once about how when I was pregnant I always pictured Anja with curly blond hair, rosy cheeks, mischievous blue eyes - much like her older sister, but since she died, I have imagined her as dark haired and eyed, slim and pale, quiet behind long dark hair, one who stands at the edge and watches before joining in, and I can just about see her sometimes at all these events I go to full of running, yelling, laughing, living kids...my little slip of a gone girl. I love her so.

Sending some love out to all of you who have had to also get through this season, whether it is with your living children or through the hell that is other people's Facebook. xoxoxox
July 2, 2019 | Unregistered CommenterJLD