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.

The image of intimacy between Mia and your DH you have described is so powerful, and it's heartbreaking that she isn't here and you both miss her so much. It is clear that her world was filled with so much love from both her parents. I am thinking of you both as you grieve together for your beautiful little girl x

Life is so very, very unfair Mia's Mummy. So unfair. I can honestly say that if I could make one wish come true, it would be that you still have your beautiful Mia. It would be. Your story has really touched me, deeply. Bless you, your DH and of course your gorgeous little fireball Mia xx

Sweet Mia. You left us four months ago tonight, on the night of your daddy's birthday. We lost our most precious treasure, the light of our morning, the star of our night. But please know that our love burns fiercely, and we can only hope it transcends time and space, so that you may always feel we are with you. As your daddy so eloquently wrote :

just imagine the most perfect feeling
of love and warmth that you can,
to double its intensity
and extend it to infinity
and you are not even close to
the amount of love that we shared
with Mia every second of her 13 months

This remains true, now and forever. Mia. Soft kisses to you, darling.

I don't have the words, Mia'sMummy, but am wishing you and Mia'sDaddy all the love and strength in the world.

My niece's birthday is today, and last night, my SIL was wrapping her daughter's presents, thinking how beautiful, intelligent and lovely her girl was, and how she was just so proud to watch her grow up. Then her thoughts went to Mia, and realised that we would never have that privilege. How do you cope? she asked tearfully. We just don't know. Not really sure we do.

Everyone I have ever come across who has lost a child, or has a child with a serious illness or disability, says exactly the same thing: they don't know how they cope, and they're not actually sure they are coping.

I think the truth is, you are coping because you have no choice. What has happened is terrible, and you are having to live through it. I suspect some days you will feel you are coping better than others, but tbh I think these early days are about survival. Clinging on to the routines, the little things in life, the friendships around you. I imagine it's a bit life clinging to a life raft.

Remember that your lovely Mia loves you and is close to you however you are feeling- whether it's a relatively 'good' day or a low one.

Miasmummy, four months since you lost her, and I am so, so sorry all over again. Just looked at her photos and they made me laugh and cry once more. What a beautiful, delicious, sparkly girl. What an appalling loss. I wish I could take away your pain. Love, light and hope for you and yours XX

A weird day full of flashbacks, prompted by a full house of family and the fatigue of manual labour in the garden... Just memories of that last day. Watching an England rugby game on tv with the same people, preparing to cook fish pie again, a noisy family supper - I fell asleep on the sofa, and half woke to the happy thought that Mia was safely asleep in bed upstairs, and I smiled at the prospect of seeing my beautiful baby when I crept up to bed. We would always remark how amazing she was as she lay there. Then I realised it couldn't be true. Ever again. That made me feel sick.

My SIL and I were talking about Mia, and she admitted that she felt something was missing when she visits now. She didn't want to make us feel awkward, but I knew that the excitement of seeing Mia, and bringing her some silly, small present, and to be regaled with stories of the latest Mia adventures always made each trip special. But now her "Little Spud" is no longer here, and it feels strange. It certainly does.

Coping. Existing. Surviving. Just doing stuff. And that's it. Mia made everything so special.

Dubai and callme such lovely thoughts you gave to me today - thank you.

A beautiful, sunny blue-sky day here, perfect to remember Mia as we will plant a glorious red oak on a woodland hill at a friends' place. We will also sow a wild flower meadow, to remember Mia and other lost friends, and I hope the beauty of nature will always be a reminder of our red-headed sprite who always stopped to listen to the birds.

Such a sign we received from Mia today. After we planted her tree and spoke of her with love, we were rewarded by a shaft of sunlight upon the hill, birdsong, and a big kiss which appeared in the sky with the setting sun. Mia heard us, and wanted to let us know she was listening. Such an amazing display of love.

I've Only just seen your thread. I'm so sorry about the loss of your Mia. She sounds tremendous. The way you write about her is wonderful, I can picture her. It sounds like she had a very special bond your DH too.

I

Pressed send too soon.

What you are going through is so cruel. Sending you love and strength.

Just checked the thread to before going to bed, to see if you'd posted about how today went.
How wonderful that the sun came out and you felt bathed in love. I hope that with spring and summer on their way, you have many more moments like that in that special place.

How wonderful that Mia visited you and showed in such a powerful way that she is loving you still, Miasmummy.

I just read the excerpt from your post on 20/2 where it is said that we become snow flakes and grains of sand...We have spent a lot of time camping in the desert recently and being there now always makes me think of Mia - the vibrant warmth and colours of the place are so evocative, as are the twinkling stars in the amazingly clear night sky. Warm, colourful and twinkling - just a few words that conjure up Mia for me, despite never having known her. What a powerful little girl to have created such impact on so many of us here.

Much love xxx

Mia has had a huge impact on so many people. Mia's little eager, animated face, her plethora of noises, does seem to capture hearts.

In a sad way, I suspect Mia also frightens people. If bad things can happen to pretty little red-headed girls, who knows what else might occur in this life of uncertainty. That darker side of things does make me sad, ad I would rather people see Mia as a life, rather than a death. Yes, she is sparkle and life and joy, she is everything wonderful and possible I this world - that is what I want to celebrate.

So many people ask after us, people we have never met, regularly checking in with friends and family to offer kind thoughts and help they can.

I am also just beginning to realise just how much seeing our pain and grief also hurts the rest of our families. They watch us cry, see our hurt and feel powerless to do anything. Especially our parents. They grieve on multiple levels - for the life that Mia will never enjoy, for us, and for themselves as grandparents. They would do anything they could to help us. I know that they feel so bad, as the job of parents is to protect their children and make things better.

But they can't bring Mia back. I know they would if they could - and that helps.

It hurts a lot today. Mia sweetheart, I love you so much.

Hugs Miasmummy, huge, giant, warm hugs to you. I hope tomorrow is a better day xx

Mia'sMummy we all wish we could help, we all wish we could do anything at all to ease your pain and hurt, we all wish this had never happened to you (or to anyone). It has to be, without exception, the hardest and cruellest thing that could happen to anyone.

It's so hard for all of you, and it's true that your parents are hurting for your pain as well as grieving their own loss of Mia. I don't think you should try to shield them from you pain, but let them come alongside you and walk with you. I'm sorry it hurts so much x

Thank you for your thoughts. You do all help. You are here, and you listen...

My day improved, thanks to lovely friends who came around and kept me busy. Bittersweet though. With one, I made a spider costume for her school age daughter for World Book Day tomorrow; and with another, I watched Mia's little toddler friend gleefully run around the room, giggling, climbing, talking on the phone, and touching everything. She was so sweet, I couldn't help but laugh at her funny expressions.

But both are activities I want to be doing with Mia. I never can. All these everyday, growing-up experiences that she will never know.

Ah well. I must to cling to the thoughts that her life was full of joy and laughter, and she knew she was loved dearly. Wide smiley girl, enthusiastic about every moment you had with us, waving your arms, and clutching my legs to be picked up. What wonderful memories to carry with us. Mia darling.

I just wish I felt it was enough. Then, I'm not sure it ever could be.

What you said about feeling that Mia may frighten people. I can't think of Mia as anything other than pure happiness and laughter and innocence. I think she does remind us all daily of how fragile life is. I think each and every one of us know it could be any of us walking in your shoes. Life is so fragile and precious and your words are a constant reminder that it needs to be grasped and lived every moment. I feel sure Mia had so much love and happiness and wonder packed into her little life.

Thoughts with you Mia's mum.

I was so saddened to hear of your sad sickening feeling when you woke and realised that Mia was not upstairs...
Oh Mia's mum, I know I don't speak alone when I say if I could wish for anything it would be to change what has happened.
I can't begin to understand how much more acutely you and your family must feel that.

Mia doesn't frighten me and that's a sad thought. She reminds me daily of love, life and how fragile and how temporary our time is here. She makes me strive and want to be a better person.

You are so brave, embracing other children, sharing your memories of Mia, experiencing her love around you.

I do pray daily for you, that your pain becomes an easier burden to bear, I pray that you will be blessed with love, light and happiness but also knowing that precious Mia is with you, loving you, knowing you and deep within you.

I pray for dear Mia as well.

What beautiful pictures of Mia on your profile.

I am so sorry for your loss.

I'm glad you don't feel frightened by Mia. I worry that some people will feel 'tainted by our bad luck' and want to stay away from us.

I have just been watching videos of Mia with her cousins. She was so excited to be around these bigger children, and she would watch their actions so intently, and you can see her concentrating as she tried to figure out what they were doing. And she loved taking part - whether it was singing to ABBA, contributing her own little unique vocals; or bouncing on the bed together as I through her up and down as her big cousin giggled beside her ; or sitting proudly in her block trolley, a huge grin on her face as she was pushed around by a bigger cousin ; even going down a slide together, a precious bundle held by careful cousins, was a wonderful experience.

On DH's birthday, all the children were wildly excited, and we started a soft toy fruit and vegetable fight. They thought it was the best fun ever. Mia sat in DH's arms, giggling and clutching a felt banana, as a veritable fruit storm raged around her. Her eyes gleamed, she bounced with joy and her squeals of happiness were magical - she was playing with the big kids!

I had this image in my head of how Mia would look, I've just had a peek at your pictures, I just had to put a face to the little bundle of happiness! Oh she is just so beautiful, and happy! I'm so very sorry for your loss.

I've been hovering around here for a while, my friends lost their 2 year old very suddenly last month and I can't even comprehend how they (and you)are feeling, or thinking, or managing to carry on every day. I've tried to keep in touch, but not too much, we've spoken about their little boy, they know we'll never forget him, we have his pictures in our house, but other than that there is nothing we can do to help them....we can't bring him back. And it breaks out hearts, so I can't even begin to imagine....

I think you and them and everyone in this horrible situation is amazing, just for getting up everyday and still being here. I read your memories of your daughter with a smile and remember the memories I have of our little friend. And I know, for an absolute fact, that he is still here with us in everything we do. Mia is still with you, and she always will be.