Strange title for a blog post, I’ll be the first to admit. This is something that has been playing on my mind so much in recent weeks and I just feel as though I need to get it down in words that are (hopefully) put together in a way people can make sense of (I shall let you be the judge of that!)….
It’s become increasingly apparent to me in recent months, that perhaps there isn’t the support we think there is for grieving parents and their families? Or maybe there is, but many of us just don’t know how to access it? I find myself floundering for the “right” words to say to people when they contact me, the “right” way to respond to the thousands of Instagram messages and countless emails. I know, I wrote a bloody book, right?! I must have this all figured out? Sadly, no. I wrote about my experience and our family experience of Teddy dying. I didn’t look to set myself up as a guru in any way; if anything I am reluctant in giving advice, as I am always so terrified I’ll advise the wrong thing entirely. I have just shared what’s right for us, what worked for us, and what continues to help in our day to day lives. Every journalist seems to want me to give “Three bits of advice for someone who has just lost a baby…” What? Like you are writing a column for a womens magazine? “Three ways to stop being a walkover at work and get that promotion..”. I’m afraid losing a baby isn’t really as simple as that, you can’t just dish out advice and expect the person to be miraculously fixed. So, no, I don’t give advice.
Design by- Anna Lewis (Sketchy Muma)
Which triggered the question; why do people think I have the answers? Why do they think I can tell them how they should be grieving or feeling, or what’s the best way to communicate to their friends or family? I feel helpless, utterly useless, as I read all of these most personal of stories and I cannot fix or help them in any way at all. I find myself repeating lines such as “It won’t feel like this forever” or “I hope you are surrounded by lots of love”; because that’s all I can hope for them.
I’m not a counsellor and I have never had any counselling. Not for any other reason than that I haven’t felt (yet) that I have needed or wanted to speak to anyone in a professional capacity about Teddy’s death. It’s not that the offers haven’t been there, they have (and I feel very fortunate for that). From my GP, from the hospital who cared for Teddy, from my previous employer and my husbands employer; all have looked to enable us to seek help, if we wanted it. We just never got to a point where we felt as though we needed it. Maybe we will? I absolutely would never rule it out, and I would actively encourage anyone to grab those lifelines when they are offered; if it feels right for you. One day, maybe it will for me.
I suppose, what I have come to think about (so much in recent weeks) is how exactly can I continue to go about trying to respond to everyones stories and messages at the current rate that is required from social media? (That was 8 and 1/2 hours per day of screen time during Baby Loss awareness week. Yep, thanks Apple for letting me know that?!). The answer? I can’t. I can’t fix everything and everyone, and I really need to be at peace with that. Not only because I am definitely not qualified in any capacity to do so, but because it’s beginning to have a huge impact on my own well being. My mind is becoming a constant swirl of other peoples worries and emotions, that simply aren’t mine to take on; and none of us should be expected to do that. I’m like a cup that has only just managed to stop spilling over with my own emotions and now other people are pouring their’s in on top and hoping that I can deal with them too. I can’t.
I feel incredibly humbled that people put so much faith and trust in me, that they think I can help them, and I hope that my inability to do so doesn’t make them think I don’t care; because I do. I have been there, I am still there; I am still navigating all of those emotions myself and trying to figure things out. I am still dealing with pregnancy and birth announcements from friends and family, and desperately trying to quash those emotions of jealously because it wasn’t that simple for us. We are still trying for another baby, a process that has become so much longer and more complicated than I ever could have anticipated. I reached out and was lucky enough to find a little support network with women who do understand, as we all lost our babies at a similar time. I am living through all of it too, and my heart hurts just as much as anyone who writes to me.
The book is just my thoughts up until this moment in time. It’s everything I am currently able to articulate about losing Teddy, up until this year. Maybe in ten, twenty, (thirty?!) years there will be more; who knows? For now, until this point, I haven’t navigated beyond here. It’s all there in black and white. I’m not able to expand or “go into more detail“, if I was, it would be in there too. I think sometimes, when you bare so many of your inner thoughts and emotions, that people think they might be able to squeeze out that bit extra if they squeeze you that little bit harder. The problem is, for the moment, there just isn’t another drop left.
After all, I’m just a grieving Mum too.
Teddy’s Mummy
x
If you are struggling and need to talk to someone who can listen, here are some useful contact numbers –
The Lullaby Trust (Bereavement Support Line)- 0808 802 6868
Petals Charity (Counselling for bereaved parents)- 0300 688 0068
Elle Wright is a wife, mother, author and blogger. After the death of her son, Teddy, at three days old, Elle started writing to navigate her new life and as a way to feel purpose again. Her Feathering The Empty Nest blog is a way of finding light in darkness, positivity in times of desperation and, hopefully, making a few people laugh along the way.
What a courageous blog. It must have been so hard to write that and I think you said what you needed to very eloquently. I agree with a lot of what you wrote. I’ve been asked a thousand times by friends what they can do for their friends who have lost a baby. It’s so exhausting answering as it just makes you feel your loss all over again and as you rightly said – everyone deals and feels their loss differently. Well done for voicing this difficult matter. Sending you a friendly mum hug xx
Elle, self care is so very important.. As an art psychotherapist I’ve had to learn to do that for my job; separating what is mine and what is someone else’s, learning what I can hold and what I can’t. This learning journey around themes of self care certainly came to the fore last year when we lost our baby son Henry. As someone who put others first in my career, it’s been a real learning curve for me to put myself first personally alongside professionally. I had to take 9 months off from work in order to make sure I could practice safely afterwards, but putting down boundaries with those around me personally became crucial too. Those people who had leaned on me and I’d held them up, I was in a place where I couldn’t do that any more. Perhaps that’s why I couldn’t go to the support groups either, I felt a responsibility to be strong when I was greiving as a mother myself. I sometimes find I’m economical with the truth about my career when I meet certain people as I think sometimes the assumption that you are a therapist/ someone who is a support all the times means that people sometimes forget the line, or the line is blurred, sometimes totally unconsciously, sometimes entirely selfishly by those feeling they need you in some way. I do know that now I’m far better at knowing when I need to be alone and when I can be sociable when I’m able to take care of others and when I can’t, when I can be open and when I’m really closed for business. It’s made me a better friend, wife, daughter and therapist, but I’ve lost relationships along the way with people who can’t accept the shift. As grateful as I am to you for writing your incredible book, which bears so many similarities to our story (we went to Constantine Bay from Surrey for a change of scenery 4 days after losing Henry, thinking it might help; being desperate and in shock really, only to sit there in the sand and say to ourselves why the hell did we think this was a good idea”!) I hope you know that you have done enough in being so open and brave. You are a grieving mum. No explanation needed. You are a warrior woman and your openness and ability to let people in is testament to the incredible person you are. But it’s ok; more than ok to shut people out from time to time.. Well done on righting this post, it’s really important that you name in! It’s ok to say “I’ve done enough for now” today/this week/this month I’m just gonna focus on me… especially but not exclusively after BLAW when you must be totally emotionally and physically spent. Take care of you in whatever why matters to you is most inportant; perhaps including a big G&T in the mix!
Sending you a cuddle from one to another.
Becky xxx
Sending you love I can relate you how you are feeling we’ve lost babies we can’t deal with everyone else problems grief to its to much 💗💙💗💙
What a lovely post Elle! Thank you for always allowing yourself to be true to your feelings and needs.
When I met you the other week at your book event that’s what I felt, that you are a courageous and authentic mother who is trying to share her experience with the world, with the hope it might give voice to a better discourse about baby loss while processing your own very grief!
I am so sorry people take advantage of this at times, and I think it shows what a tragedy losing a baby truly is!
But like you said there are appropriate channels to receive counselling support and I encourage anyone to access these services we are so very lucky to have, because they are such a life line!
I hope you feel held and loved in your own journey and healing.
Sending you much love xox
Farida @spiritualmothering
I can’t imagine how pressured it must feel sometimes and how bittersweet – you are being perceived as an ‘expert’ in something you did not want. Because you believe that change need to happen – and are putting yourself out there to help – people forget that the reason you are doing this is because of a pain that you still have – a grief you are still feeling – I think this a shitty by product of opening yourself up for others and you have expressed this perfectly. This is something so relatable in so many areas of loss and again you have reminded people that are not alone – Thank you for sharing teddy and the story of your family – I hope you get some respite and peace in the next month to recover from what must have been an exhausting time. 💙
This was such a heartfelt read. Well done for always being you 😘 articulate and fair as always ❤️
I think you have worded this post beautifully xx
This is such a brilliant post Elle and something all your followers need to remember!
As usual you’re eloquent and honest.
You’re not an expert, just a mum sharing her experience.
Keep doing what you’re doing ans don’t forget to always put yourself first Xx
I just want to reach through and give you a hug. We are 5 years on since our loss and every time we speak of him or he is mentioned or even if someone speaks to me about someone else’s loss I get a lump in my throat. It breaks my heart and I get lots of unwanted thoughts and feelings. So for you to have to do this day in and day out… well, you deserve a medal. You are raising awareness which is amazing, however you are still a mummy going through a loss. None of us know the answer, we have to just ride the waves.
Lots of love xxxx
So sorry you’re feeling so overwhelmed Elle. I imagine that people who contact you just don’t realise just how many others from your 100k following are also contacting you at the same time- and how that adds up time-wise in replies/personal-wise in emotional investment you are giving.
Could you turn your DMs off for a while – a long while! – and take a step back?Provide some story highlights of where people can look for professional help but then make yourself less personally available? Your blog is so useful for allowing people to comment – could there be a section on here for people to share their own stories, without the need for a personal reply from you?
I can’t imagine what the pressures of having and sustaining a big following must be like to deal with, but it seems as though perhaps this might be part of the draining dimension of social media influence as much as it is about needing to fix others’ difficulties…?
Look after yourself and I hope you get some respite very soon. Xx
Hi Elle. I think you’re amazing. Your blog and your words and your picture with Teddy make me cry; but in a beautiful tender way. I agree completely with your wish to not want to have drops of support continually squeezed out of you, I wouldn’t want that either. I guess it’s the sheer power of what you represent to others. We don’t really have control over other’s perceptions and responses to ours and their emotions do we? And social media must amplify that to a stupendous level. But this courageous post is a further example of the liberating and life sustaining effects of writing I feel (I hope you don’t mind my saying that) and I think that’s wonderful. You’ve inspired in me awareness of the therapeutics of writing. Much love X
Hiya, I read your book, it was sent to me by a very thoughtful sister in law because the title is exactly what I’ve said before. I want to talk about my dead son too! It helped me hugely, everything you said rang so true and made me feel a bit less alone. You don’t need to take on others grief or offer advice, what you’ve done, telling yours and Teddys story is already exactly what is needed. Thank you.
Hi Elle,
Gosh… I’m not quite sure where to start. My story is similar to yours. August 26th 2018 my 5 week old daughter died. We are still awaiting a cause of death. Reading your book was like re- living what my husband and I went and are now going through. Looking at your Instagram I also see that like yourself I posted throughout my pregnancy up until my daughter was born. I guess I’m leaving a comment because I’m lost and on maternity leave without my baby and there is no one around me that can empathise with or even want to talk to me without it feeling awkward. Do you know of any communities of mothers in my position in London who I can get in contact with? I would forever be grateful. Thank you for writing your book It spoke to me like no other bereavement books could ever speak. X thanks Christine
Sending you so much love, hope you’ve got a nice peppermint tea and Boris is eating something loudly!!
Apologies for responding so late, but I wanted to say so much, but it’s basically this. You have to save yourself first. Then keep yourself safe. Wonderful and precious as you are, you cannot save the world, so to speak. It is not your responsibility. So, don’t feel guilt for something you do not have the power to do. Sometimes caring can be good for others but terrible and potentially destructive to us. It helps no-one if you drown in this. You’re Teddy’s mummy and that’s big and beautiful and precious and sad enough for anyone to bear. Much love xox
There isn’t anything anyone can say to make it ‘better’ anyway but there is always a hope that someone who is ahead of you in the grief that can say “I found the magic cure, here it is” when it’s just something we all have to live with and find our own ways of living. I find comfort in you as you’re slightly ahead on your journey & on days when I feel I can’t go on I look at you (and other families) & now I can. It feels like I’m not alone on this journey. I hope you are kind and gentle on yourself, you have already helped so many by telling your story and being such a good mom to Teddy X