My dearest Sebby,
Time seems to evolve, evaporate into a timeless zone. I live for special moments. Moments that make time stand still or makes time go so fast, and yet so slow. Life is something beautiful. With twists and turns. And I wish with all of my heart that I could have shared those moments with you.
With just a month to go till your third birthday, mummy wonders where time has gone. How has she been able to come this far, and be standing, smiling, laughing and experiencing joy and deep peace from the Lord? When you died, I admittedly believed that I would never be able to be happy again. That I would be desperately sad.
But I learnt a lot in these last years. A lot about my resilience. A lot about my character, a lot about how I can keep persevering if I put my mind to it. Yes, I miss the life that we could have had. Yet, I have had to learn not to be bitter about it. If I were to be bitter and angry how would I be able to help others? How would I be able to share wisdom with others who are walking the same or similar path I have walked on? How would I be able to help myself if I remained bitter and angry?
Losing you Sebby thought me a lot about empathy. A lot about caring, and praying for the people around me. And every day I pray for someone, someone that God puts on my heart, and I pray that they come to know the Lord in the same way I do.
I remember those early days after you died, how I wished that I could wake up from that terrible nightmare. You know how much I was looking forward to seeing you baby boy? You know how excited I was to be your mummy only for that to be taken away? I wanted to see you. I wanted to hold you in my arms, I wanted to kiss you. I just wanted to see your utter perfection. But that was denied. And so now I can only imagine what you would have looked like. Would you have looked like me? Or would you have looked like your dad? Uncles? Aunts? Grandparents?
There are days, when every cell of my body craves to hold you, to smell your sweetness, to love you. I don’t think that there is a day that goes by where I don’t think about you. The thing is you’ve been a part of my life, we were connected and yet I wasn’t able to meet you, and yet I think of you daily. Wondering what it would have been like to get you ready for your first kindergarten class.. Wondering, what it would have been like to take you to the park, and push you on the swing. Wondering what it would be like to have cuddle time and read night-time stories together. Wondering what it would be like to just watch you grow, and to experience that unbelievably strong bond that mothers and their children have. How I wish i could have done all those things with you.
Instead, mummy has ordered 29 t-shirts, which she will give out to people to support and spread awareness on pregnancy infant loss awareness on 15th October. I want people to stop being ashamed of the silence surrounding stillbirths and infancy loss. With the silence around stillbirths, its becomes increasingly difficult to talk about the pain, and the mother starts to feel ashamed that her body has failed to keep the child safe. I want the social stigma to end. So I will raise awareness on this topic as best as I can…
Mummy loves you dearly, and wishes she could have you hear. Wishes she could hug you, and tickle you, and play with you, and cook for you, and just look at your sweetness. How I wish I could have held you. Maybe mummy’s feeling down lately because she feels like she has abandoned you by moving to a totally different country. There are times where the strings of my heart are being tugged, and I get reminded that I left you behind. Was it selfish of me to do that? To move on from Slovakia, where there was a lot of hurt, and a lot of memories of what was to be but wasn’t to be.
I remember this time 3 years ago, that I had an ultra-scan with you, and it was the first 3D ultra scan I had with you. And I got to see your little face – your nose which was so much like my own nose, your eyes, and your mouth. It was remarkable to see how clear your features were. I saw in the womb how your tiny hands held your head and you were thinking. You were thinking. It was as if you were praying. That was a special moment for me to see you in there, and I was counting down the days for you to be born until that dreadful day when they told me that you had died. You were gone. And my whole world around me collapsed…
…Yet somehow I carried on. I crawled forward, and wrote heaps, and shared my story with people and gave them hope. Your story gives hope to so many people. Your book has sold 190 copies so far. I am so proud of you little man. The way you have impacted so many people, given so many people courage and hope.
Thank you for allowing me to be your mummy. Thank you for the time I had you special one. I miss you dearly, and I love you dearly sweet baby boy.
Your loving mama