My beautiful red-headed 13-month daughter died totally unexpectedly

[MiaAlexandrasmummy]

I have never posted on mumsnet before, while my beautiful Mia was alive, although I read all the advice often. So I feel a bit of a fraud now - I can't be her mummy anymore.

She died nearly four weeks ago now. We had the most beautiful, touching service, with our families from all over the world with us, and we have been so touched by all the love shown to us by friends, friends of family, friends of friends, and even people who we don't even know.

But I hurt so much. The pain returns afresh each day, overwhelming me, even though I am managing to get up, get out of the house, and function on a basic level.

Mia wasn't supposed to die. She was so happy, developing well, eating well, with no sign of illness. But she was, it turns out.

I am her mummy, and she spent so much time with me. How could I not know?? How can we go on and adapt to a life without her? Obviously, people manage somehow, but I keep fighting the fact that she is really gone, and we will never see her smile again, kiss her soft curls or hold her in our arms. It is so wrong.

Children are amazing sometimes... and far more intuitive than we might imagine.

A little friend of Mia's, the little boy who insists Mia is a star, asked me today "Where is Mia gone?" before answering himself - "Mia is in the sky". He then sat on my lap and demanded to see my photos of her, and sat in fascination on my Iphone, flicking through the many photos and videos of her for at least half an hour.

Mia's cousins in France wear their Christmas Mia star necklaces with such pride, and like to tell their friends about her.

Earlier this year, Mia's 5-year-old cousin drew a beautiful picture of us all to decorate the wall of her bedroom - she drew the house, and her family and ours in a little circle, with little hearts in the middle. Mia was dressed in orange, and had red hair, and she was holding my hand. The picture hangs on the wall still, and I love looking at the little family of love, which somehow Mia's cousin clearly understood...

And yes, Mia knew we loved her, and we love her still. Every second of every day.

I love the story of Mia and her fondness for materials! She sounds so inquisitive and joyful. I'm sure she's with you, you know, whispering in your ear and reminding you of these wonderful little moments to share with us. I always so enjoy hearing them.

I just wish we could take away some of your pain, my friend. Much love xx

PS - I know the lovely Flubba formatted the thread for you to print before, if you'd ever like an update I'd be happy to supply. Just say when x

A small victory, perhaps. Yesterday was the first day that I didn't cry. It didn't mean I didn't miss Mia, but the sadness is a part of me.

Today was a little more tricky. I just wanted her back so badly today.

Good news as well in that it looks as though we have had our offer accepted for our house. It's a big deal, but we were very "meh" about it. Diminished by lost dreams. We so wanted Mia to grow up here as we have a beautiful garden. Her daddy would take her around the garden in the warm evening sun, pointing out trees and listening to birds, and hearing the wind rustle in the leaves. She would listen intently, and point her finger to new things she wanted him to explain. Very special times which he now treasures.

Mia spent so much of the summer crawling around in the grass, especially under the outdoor table, busily investigating the daisies, bits of grass, and bits of leaves, wearing her big stripy hat. I did try gardening with her around, but it was hard work, as she always wanted to touch me, or the weed bucket, or simply pick up lumps of soil to eat. Then Mia would want to sit on my lap, and at one stage, I resorted to weeding the paths this way, which reminded me of the previous year, when I did the same with Mia inside me - not sure either method was particularly efficient!

Miasmummy you continue to write so descriptively and lyrically of your beautiful Mia. I'm sorry I've not posted for a while, our computer has been on the blink, but I've thought of you and Mia often since I last wrote.

I can completely understand your wanting to tell the wedding dress lady about Mia - I think it's only natural to want everyone to know, otherwise it'd be like carrying a big secret around with you, which she isn't.

Thank you for all the recent kind messages which continue to flow - dubai, GRW, flubba, ruby, chip, wotnow, and karma. It does help sharing Mia with you all, and I hope you continue to find her as entrancing as I do.

I have so many happy memories, yet at the moment, I am often stopped by the total horror of our situation. Holding both sets of thoughts in my head. I find it incredible, shocking and inconceivable that her little life has been taken away from us, and Mia cannot be part of our future, of any future happiness. How can so much love and energy be wasted like that? Not that I feel our love was a waste, just that we can't show Mia how absolutely and utterly she transformed our lives.

We gave Mia a sandpit for her birthday, and she would play happily with her grandmother, sifting sand through a sieve, and putting her hands up to be brushed when the sand would stick. Later on, she sat there with her cousin, watching carefully as great adventures of imagination were played out, kicking her feet across the surface to feel the rough sensation, smiling.

I can see the sandpit from the kitchen window, its cover filling with rainwater. Mia only used it for a month, but I don't regret its purchase for a second. Like I cannot regret a single second of her life. I just wish we had more. How I wish...

Mias.. I am a complete fraud. I stumbled on this thread as a mum of a child Mia's age but have kept reading because like so many others I've fallen in love with the lovely girl you describe so well. Your words have changed the mother I am - absolutely honestly. Any crying in the night I embrace now, the throwing of food across the room I take in my stride. Mias life was not in vain - I'm willing to bet I'm not the only one who has changed their tolerance levels (nicest way I can put it!) because of her, and you. Love to you and your DH and I know platitudes won't make grief any easier so all I'll say is October is still so bloody recent - go easy on yourselves xxx

astra Mia has certainly changed our lives, and those of our families, forever. I am glad that she is influencing yours too... for such a little person, it seems that she has made quite an impact - and not just through the sound of her very noisy scream! Because of Mia, we have quite a few friends who are now re-evaluating their lives and work as they see what is really important to them ; we have received so many cards from people we barely know, friends of friends, friends of family, who have been touched by Mia's story ; and we have a mound of people willing to help us create Mia's Wood. I only wish that her influence could be done in person, and you could all see for yourselves our funny, sweet and lovely little girl.

Mias, she is part of your future, she will always be there, always. And don't give up on that sandpit either, maybe one day Mia will be watching over her little brother or sister playing in it?

chip, that is a good thought, but it's hard to imagine Mia being a part of it right now.

Good and sad things... sad first. We have received two cards for Mia in the last two days, the only ones we have received this year. One was from the midwife who helped deliver Mia on the very scary, but ultimately joyous, day of her birth. I don't know how she found out. The other was from a woman I met once, soon after she had her own baby, and Mia and I visited to drop off a present from a mutual friend. I realised that we probably saw her only a few days before our world changed forever. It must have been a shock to them both, both so focussed on life and birth - you don't like to think these things can really happen around you. I know that's how I feel, and yet, I have to face it.

I do SO want to believe I will see Mia again one day. I have been thinking about this a lot. I like to think I will, if only because the alternative is unacceptable, like blocking out bad news to make it disappear. Just not sure things work this why - feels like rationalisation to me. Even so, I will stick with this hope ; that she will recognise me, and somehow forgive us for being somewhere where she is not. I know she was happiest with us, which is why I find her being elsewhere, or not 'being', so difficult to comprehend.

On a more practical note, I am hoping that Mia's Wood might be progressing. I wrote to a local conference centre, which is a beautiful old house, to see if they might be willing to sell us some land to create the wood - and I was very pleased to receive an email almost immediately to say that they would be very willing to meet with us this week. Also, I have spoken to a very helpful person at the Woodland Trust, who offered to make some enquiries through his own contacts in the area, as his avenues can often track down unused or unwanted pieces of land. So fingers crossed!

Mias, I find the idea of Sylvie-Rose being gone altogether totally frightening. So, yes, I want to believe that I will see her again. But aside from wanting her to be living on, I do feel that there are odd little things in the house that used not to happen, toys moving and making noise of their own accord, the tiny white feathers I find all the time now, the feeling that someone has tapped me on the head when there's no-one there, odd little things that ds4 says, that make me think that it's not just a figment of my imagination, that she really is still around. And if Sylvie-Rose is around, then Mia is around, there wouldn't be one rule for one child and another for another child.

Wonderful news about the wood! It sounds like you're making some really good progress on that front.

chip thank you, thank you, thank you. Another friend has said something similar too.

I have been remembering a funny incident with Mia which, to me, totally depicts her sense of fun and her level of comprehension. My cheeky girl. We were home after holidays, where the highchairs had no restraining straps, so we had taught Mia to sit down. We thought we would continue the habit, but this particular day changed our minds... Mia was having her supper, eating something colourful and messy as usual, and I think I was distracted by preparing our own supper. She heard the front door for my DH, and must have quickly stood up and turned around, holding onto the back, eagerly awaiting that first glimpse of her daddy. "Mia", I said mock sternly, "Sit down!" Looking at me with a wide grin and twinkling little eyes, she sat down where she was, right on top of the highchair tray, on top of all her smooshed food. I had to giggle. She did listen to her mummy and obeyed. She knew exactly what she was doing. How could I honestly expect anything more??

Mia. 'Mine' in Italian, although this is not the reason we chose her name. We chose before she was born, before we ever knew we would create a little red-head with the biggest smile in the world. We just thought it was a beautiful name. We still do. The perfect name for our amazing daughter.

Mia. You are mine, you are ours. Forever and ever, my darling. We so miss you.

So Sorry for your loss. xx

Reading through this thread has touched my heart in unimagineable ways. What a sad story but yet you have found the strength to talk about your precious daughter with such warmth, love, devotion and unconditional love. Sometimes grief can cloud our memories and over take our thoughts but you have come through that and you should be so proud. My personal belief is dat the man up there only takes the best and for a reason that only he knows 'Mia' was to good for this earth and is now at play with the angels, but also at reat with the best. Finding comfort in your memories of Mia and the love she showed you so innocently will comfort you for a life time. I hope that one day you will be blessed with the understanding as to why mia was taken away. Sending my love and thoughts x

It has been a big day, much to think about.

Mia is truly changing lives - in a way i never expected. I learnt that the midwife who sent us the card earlier this week was a friend of a friend is my SIL. This friend, also a midwife, told my SIL that Mia's dramatic birth due to undetected vasa previa (90% infant mortality) has now been written up as a case study and she has changed delivery procedures. That makes me so proud and sad at the same time.

Mia, you have made such an impact on the world with your presence. Not just to those who love you, but to those children who now live because of you. So proud. So sad.

Its bitter sweet I agree. But what a beautiful and wonderful legacy 2 leave behind. People like you inspire me to appreciate what I have and my precious children that I'm so grateful to have. I couldn't even begin 2 imagine what you as a mother have gone through and are going through. May you find peace in knowing that mia never died in vain but now has given oppurtunity for vasa previa to be looked into in more depth so other families don't have to go through the pain you have.

Ironically, it seems the medical changes as a result of Mia's birth would have happened anyway. They are not related to her death in any way. Still, I am proud that she has made a difference.

That's a beautiful legacy for Mia, Miasmummy, what a special little person in every single way possible. I'm glad to hear that your plans for the wood are making some progress, a great focus for your DH.

Have found another house to move to?

Thinking of you daily and sending you love, hope and prayers as ever xxx

This was shared by a lovely friend who also has lost her her beautiful daughter. It does describe how I feel...

The Pain of Loss

Nothing can fill the gap when we are away from those we love, and it would be wrong
To try to find anything.
We must simply hold out and win through. That sounds
Very hard at first, but at the same time it is a consolation, since leaving
The gap unfilled preserves the bonds between us.
It’s no good to say that God fills the gap.
God does not fill it, but keeps it empty so that our communion with one another
May be kept alive, even at the cost of agony.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

.

The words I use the most. The words I say every day, if not once, but several times.

Mia, I miss you so much.
You are so beautiful.
I will always love you.
I don't understand.

Miasmummy. I don't know what to say except that I am so sad for you. Much love xx

:(

X

Oh miasmummy.. I wish there was something instant I cos do to take the pain away. I know talking on here helps but are you part of any RL bereavement groups? If you got on touch with the health visitor you had they might point in that direction? I think you need someone who has been through the grief you have to start to comprehend it together.... Sending lots of love xxx

Sorry spelling mistakes... Phone is playing up!

Mia sounds so beautiful. I am so sorry for your loss....there really are no words.