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.

dubai, you are perceptive in that my feelings have been very different these past few days... I do feel different, and fatigue and numbness are uppermost, but I don't think it's because my emotional reserves are low.

Lots of things have been going on, and none are really related to Mia. I have been kept busy with all kinds of activities with friends, going out and about as well as entertaining at home. DH and I are in training for a sprint triathlon. I have also been making plans for Easter, summer holidays and Christmas, and spending a lot of time working in our neglected garden. We are finalising the deal on our house. Finally, I also found out that I have been invited to be an Olympic volunteer.

All of these things are what I would 'normally' do. I am regaining my old life, I guess. And in some strange way, I go through the day almost feeling dissociated from our loss of Mia - this sort of thing doesn't happen to us, it must have happened to someone else.

Keeping busy in these different ways is good on a minute-to-minute basis, but it means that the focus of my time is external, and therefore not necessarily about Mia, and I think somehow my unspoken thoughts of her build up inside me at the end of the day, which is when I have been writing here.

However, through all this busy-ness, I have also realised that the association of happiness and Mia is now no longer inextricably linked. And this is very uncomfortable. Of course, Mia always made me happy, every day a wonderful new adventure together. Yet I am slowly discovering that I can enjoy myself without Mia - and this is quite conflicting. I know it is natural, even a necessary part of the grieving process, but there is definitely an element of guilt too. I feel sad, like I am forgetting her, continuing on with my life without her. It's frightening, to be honest...

And another confusing element to the emotional recipe within me is that I feel like I am waiting... waiting to feel better, waiting for something to change, waiting for my life to 'return to normal' and yes, waiting for Mia to reappear in my life. I am in a holding pattern. I still often struggle with the reality of our situation. Our little girl was so very alive. How can such a noisy, lively little girl not be here any longer? How can this role have been ripped away from me?

Lots of fluctuations, which are exhausting. I am sitting here now, very tired again, but trying to feel everything as it bubbles up.

So - flubba no, you didn't upset me at all. As tamisara said, I'm glad Mia is out and about being busy too.

We were out walking today, and saw another Mia kiss-cloud in the blue sky, while the birds sang. We said hello to our beautiful girl.

I think it's normal to feel worse. Caz did say that she felt worse after about three months, which ties in with how I've been going - apparently 3-6 months is another bad spot. I suppose the initial grief carries you through, then it's like a super strength, that is visible to others, and your tears become slightly more private.

Then the grief, and disbelief come tumbling back again... full force. As if the last few months have been nothing (at least that is where I am).

Funnily enough I do understand how you're feeling. Mia sadly passed at about the same time as Tamsin, so we're about the same distance down the road (very different circumstances, so I hope you understand & I don't offend you).

It's what - quarter of a year? And other people are imagining you to be coping, and over the worst. You have plans, you begin to move on. But the thought is scary, you don't really want to accept this new reality, but it's there, you are being pushed forward with it. But then it seems that the past few months have been a bit like a dream. The initial pain, was so raw, so all-consuming, that in a way it's like it never really happened. The pain was like nothing you've experinced before in your life, it was like a dream/should have been a dream, it can't have been real?

I'm sorry if that doesn't make sense. I think you're doing wonderfully, and are so eloquent. Your strength is amazing. Lots of love to you, and kisses to Mia xx

Miasmummy, It makes sense what you say, that fear of 'getting back to enjoying normal things'. What you have been through is so enormous, so life changing, that you must be scared that starting to smile, or feel pleasure etc means you are somehow leaving Mia behind.

Please believe you aren't ever going to forget her, or be less connected to her. You are moving forward in your life, maybe in stops and starts, maybe sometimes you'll feel you're moving backwards. But whatever point you're at, Mia is right with you.

Tamisara- your post is so eloquent too. It's sad and moving but also incredible, the strength shown by the women who are walking this path

thank you tamisara, your insights are very close to exactly how I am feeling. Unbelieving. Incomprehensible. And yet I can continue? How is that possible?

callmemrs thank you also for saying it is ok to be on this part of my path. I do feel uncomfortable and guilty, and I do sometimes now try and block out the pain. But yes, I do believe that Mia is with me. Well, most of the time. It's the moments when I feel so alone and bereft which remain incredibly hard. I think this is the burden of love I will carry forever.

And now, at last, some anger is creeping in. Directed at the people who have not been beside me on this terrible journey of loss, as I feel my way blindly into a life without my daughter, a life which should be enhanced by a little red-head's smiles and bounces... I have decided that I really have had enough of the question "And how ARE you?'' People have to earn the right to ask that intrusive question.

If people have been with me, talked to me, or seen me regularly over the past few months, they will know where I am, and my current challenges, the ups and downs of my grieving for Mia. They can ask in a meaningful way, and I will answer. Everyone here asks, and I feel safe in saying exactly how I feel. Or, as happens often, this group of people doesn't even need to ask how I am, as they can tell simply through our conversation how I am feeling at that moment in time - and accept it.

However, it is the people who have been afraid to approach me, who don't 'do' death, who now feel it is an appropriate time to address me - to satisfy their own need to know that I am 'coping' - who I resent so deeply. I know that everyone reacts to death differently, but I don't think that is a sufficient excuse. I have to deal with the loss of my daughter. Every day. So if it is so hard to speak with me, and ask me the types of questions which I don't yet have the answers, merely to satisfy their checklist to say "yes, she is coping, she is on the way back to normal" then I am afraid that I am not going to provide that insight. It is too personal.

Mia cannot ever be relegated to a checklist. She is worthy of so much more, and her love deserves to be protected and honoured. She is someone beautiful and amazing who has changed my life. My darling daughter.

Mias mummy- thinking of you and beautiful Mia at the start of another week.

I am sorry to hear of your feelings of fatigue, numbness and guilt.
It does sound like you are keeping yourself very busy with lots of acitivites and plans. Are you maybe doing too much, keeping too busy to keep the sad thoughts at the back of your mind during the day.
I worry that you will wear yourself out and wonder if you need to allow yourself more time and space and to take things at a gentler pace. Might it be helpful to talk to someone professional about your feelings at this point

It sounds like some of your feelings are coming from the shock and denial of your loss changing to having to face the reality of your loss and that is so hard. It is an important part of the greiving process but so painful when you have to let go of the protective mechanism of denial.

I really do pray very hard that you are blessed with another child- not in any way to replace Mia, but I know that you are such a wonderful Mummy with so much love to give. Mia will be such an important part of her future brother or sister's life and they will know her and love her just as much as you do.
The love you have for another baby in no way will detract from the love you have for Mia- I think the heart expands with love when we have more people to love, we then love more and we have more to share.

To chose to carry on with life, to live, to love and to heal but to love Mia and to carry her deep within your heart and to feel her presence and to know she is with you- please don't feel guilty for this. You are so bravely embracing life- not hiding away from reminders of Mia, being with other babies and children.

Be kind and gentle to yourself and know I keep you in my thoughts and prayers.

My post cross- posted with your post.
You are right to protect yourself and Mia from the insensitivity and insincerity of others.
It does sound like many of your friends and family are so wonderful, loving and kind- a reflection on you.
Sleep peacefully xx

A quiet afternoon, and much needed. (jmf924 you are right.) I realise that I have spent the past week looking after everyone except me - guests and children, horses and dogs. Time to sit quietly at home, and allow myself to feel after the whirl of activity of the past few days. Now I can still think of my wonderful girl, look at her photos and spend some time concentrating on the happy memories of how she and I spent our days together...

The sun has been out, which reminded me of the days in early summer last year, I'd carry Mia and the washing basket outside. (A feat of balance and strength!) While I pegged, Mia investigated. She examined the white daisies, she found stray dry grasses, she listened to the birds, she grabbed at her socks - and of course, pulled the wet clothes from the basket onto the ground. All very satisfying on her part. Inevitably, I'd have to retrieve a daisy from her mouth, and a sock from the grass, but she wasn't unduly bothered by these ministrations. Job done, I'd place Mia into the washing basket and pull her around the grass as she giggled and swayed with the forward motion. I'd say to her "Love you, little girl, love you, love you, love you!" It was definitely the favourite part of hanging out the washing for both of us.

Not nearly as much fun now. Still so much love there for Mia though.

It struck me how much love there was between you, so that even a chore like hanging the washing out was a source of so much fun.
I am sorry for those people who haven't been there for you over the past few months, and who didn't know what to say. Anger is a natural part of grieving. I will be thinking of you over Mothers day weekend x

Yes, I feel I was so very lucky in that every moment with Mia was fun. I never felt overwhelmed by the constancy of the daily nappy changes or feeding, or ability to concentrate for more than 10 minutes, but I know others do. For that, I am grateful. I just truly loved being with Mia, seeing her learning and doing things on her own, or having her with me as I did my own daily jobs. My mother said she had never seen me so contented and happy...

I had a terrible dream last night. I rarely dream of Mia, but last night, she was in my dream, being held by DH as we walked in a jungle forest together. They were ahead of me, DH pointing out leaves and birds to her, as they would do in our garden. Then suddenly, a group of men with guns in fatigues leapt out and dragged him and Mia away. It was terrifying. But I was desperate to be with them both, and although I hadn't been seen, I ran after them and allowed myself to be captured too. We were put onto a train and Mia was taken away from us. Somehow, we both managed to escape and started to shout at them to return our daughter to us. The men just laughed, and intimated that they knew where she was, but that they were not going to reveal this to us. We were frantic with fear... and then I woke up.

It's not good when you wake from a nightmare and discover your reality is actually worse.

Oh, Mias what an awful dream! And it really does represent the truth. Someone has taken Mia, someone knows where she is but you can't see her. But the only wrong thing about that dream is that she is being looked after by people that love you all and that she will be given back to you one day.

Mias mummy- I'm so sorry that you had such a horrible nightmare and to wake up feeling that reality is worse is so sad.

Dreams are a very important way we process what is going on in our consious minds in the day.
And yes it is true Mia was so cruely snatched away by something so terrible- the terroist in real life being the infection. And you did everything you could to protect, to save her.
But the fear you felt in your dream about not knowing where she is and what is going to happen to her is maybe you struggling with processing where she is now.
Unlike you dream Mia is in a place now where no harm will happen to her, no scary men are there. She's safe, happy and waiting for you- or maybe in her heaven you are already there- as I have said before I don't believe time exists in the same way in heaven- so there is no waiting for people to join us.
Mia's spirit is still with you, her love, your happy memories.

There are many people who if they were faced with losing their baby would have to look back with regret at the time they spent with their baby. Regret and guilt that they weren't good enough parents, not loving enough, could not experience the joy of their baby. I hope you can get some comfort from knowing that you are such a wonderful Mummy to Mia- both when she was with you here and now she is on heaven.
When I think of you and Mia you teach me on a daily day to be a better, loving person. To feel less frustrated, more accepting and to find the love and joy in the people and situations around me- so I thank you both for that.

One last thing about dreams is that we only remember a fraction of our dreams- the dream just before we wake. So each night you are having many dreams and I am sure your precious girl is visiting you in happier dreams.

Wishing you a peaceful afternoon and evening.

Jmf294, Mias was the most contented Mummy. The most poignant picture of Mia and Mummy is one that has probably not been posted, taken only a few hours before Mia died. It shows a supremely contented, complete Mummy with Mia looking at the camera slightly quizically.
As to time, in the country I live in, the original inhabitants have two time scales. One is the time as western minds conceive it, the other a time in which all peoples, living and dead exist. It is not the past in any sense we understand, but is a continuing and intersecting time. This is where Mia is, and I believe it is closer to Heaven than most western concepts.There is a similar concept in physics called block time.

Mia'sMummy I'm so sorry you had such a horrible nightmare and that waking wasn't a comfort either. :(
Mia'sGrandad that's such a lovely belief.
I believe that Mia is still living alongside you all, just not in physical being. She is part of the rain that falls and the sun that shines. She is in each blade of grass and each birdsong. She is in each tear that is cried for her ~ and that includes the many tears cried by all of us who have been so captured by her radiance and beautiful face.

The idea that Mia remains with me, grows stronger each day. For most part, I feel her presence in nature, in nature's beauty. But I desire so very much that I might find her in some happy dreams soon, and feel her soft skin and see her smiling eyes, and I can tell her just how much she is loved...Even the thought makes me shiver. I love the idea that she and I are together in some dimension, and perhaps such dreams will give me a tantalising glimpse of my beautiful red-head.

All your lovely thoughts of Mia hearten me after this morning. Yes, I agree my dream was very symbolic of everything that has happened, and my current emotional state. However, you will be pleased to hear that not only your thoughts have helped me, but some other messages came from Mia today which balanced out my nightmare...

A friend sent me a text saying that she and her husband thought of Mia last night, as they came back from A&E with their baby girl who had been unwell. They saw a beautiful glowing red-orange sunset, and then the sky suddenly went dark. My friend said she felt it was Mia looking out for her little girl...

And another dream, this one much happier. Another friend dreamt that she and I were at the Royal Albert Hall, where her 18-month-old daughter was performing a crazy tribal dance, combined with balloons and crazy lighting. It turns out that Mia was producing the musical accompaniment, thrashing away on kettle drums, percussion and tubular bells. As her friend danced madly, Mia just laughed. At the end, the two little performers took a bow, holding hands, and hugged as they received a well-deserved standing ovation. My friend said she awoke, feeling so very proud of our girls.

Pride and love, overwhelmingly so. Always.

Mias, I once read a wonderful book called Journey of Souls, written by a hypnotherapist who specialised in regressing people to their 'in between' lives state. One of the things that many people experienced, is the feeling that they wanted to connect with their loved ones on earth, who were so wrapped up in their grief that they were not open to it.

I think it's wonderful how open you are to the connection you still have with Mia, this allows her to communicate through nature and signs and must be a huge comfort for her.

Mias Grandad - that sounds like a lovely photo. Mias mummy does sound like a wonderful mum, and I hope to learn from her example and be as contented as she was. I also agree with you, I believe time exists outside of the rules as we know it.

Whether, you have just caused me to buy that for my kindle. I find books about the afterlife very reassuring.

The love you have for Mia shines through when you speak about her, what a gorgeous Mummy you are. I know that one day you will find peace and contentment, surround yourself with your memories, family and friends. You are a strong person and it is an honour to read all about your lovely girl xxx

Surely I am only expressing the feelings that every mother has? Every child is enchanting in their own way. Of course, sometimes that can be forgotten with the daily hassles of life, but most mothers would happily admit to feelings of complete adoration if they were asked in that singular moment of love. I feel that anyone else in this terrible situation would want to try to capture their child's essence and share it with the world, if only to show how magical their wonderful child is, and to say how much love is within them. That's all I am doing. Sharing Mia's unique brand of magic.

And by doing so, I am telling Mia, wherever she is, that she is integral to my life. Her presence continues to shape my thoughts. My heart sings with her love.

I love you, love you, love you, my darling girl.

I'm glad chipmonkey, it truly is an amazing book.

But Mia is an especially enchanting little girl and you are an especially devoted Mummy. The love will go on forever and ever.

So so sorry and my heart truly feels for you, you will always be mia's mummy. May Mia rest in peace with the angels in heaven xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I wrote a little something for you, I didnt know your darling little girl but I have a daughter myself and hope you will not be offended. It was not meant to xx

Beautiful Mia, little girl with the red hair
Your mummy wonders how you are now not there
You died as a daughter who was loved more than life itself
The memory of you will never be left on a shelf
You are in the wings of the butterflies who's colours are so rare
You are in the sails of the ships in the fresh ocean air
You passed away knowing only that you were loved
That was you, beautiful little Mia, with the red hair.

Your mia may not have had red hair but I know a Mia that did. Hope this was not innapropriate. xx

move I am so moved that you wrote something especially for my Mia, despite never having met her. And she most certainly had red hair - gorgeous soft red curls which I kissed everyday. You are right, I love her more than anything. I am under her spell.

A cluster of difficult days. Yesterday Mia would have been, should have been, 18 months old. Today is a friend's birthday, DH's school friend, also a husband and father of twins - he died exactly a year before Mia. Sunday is Mother's Day. Monday is my birthday. Days to mark, but not to celebrate. Instead, they are days to remember the heights of love and the depths of loss, a most bittersweet combination.

On Mother's Day, instead of going out, or being sad, I want to feel close to Mia by planting some wildflower seeds in the garden, and colourful summer plants, and thereby acknowledge life's blossoms. Mia is my fiery little flower, glowing in the sun.

Gosh what a hard few days you will have, particularly Sunday I imagine. What a lovely idea, though, to sow seeds in her honour.

Mias mummy- I hope the days ahead are gentle and kind to you as you bravely have to face them with memories and thoughts about what should have been. Wishing you a happy birthday and I really hope the year ahead is a peaceful, healing, loving year for you.

A lovely idea to plant some seeds and I hope when they grow you can see Mia's beauty in the pretty blossoms.

I just wanted to comment on your previous post in which you said that surely your thoughts are the thoughts that every Mother has.
I work as a psychiatrist and see many people who very sadly didn't have a mother like you to love and cherish them.
I don't say this to make you feel sad for them but to point out what a wonderful mother you are- your love for Mia, your relationship with her is remarkable and Mia and you are so blessed by that love.
Of course it makes it double unfair that something so wonderful and special was snatched away.
I marvel at your love, your strength and your courage.

I will keep you, your DH, Mia and all who know and love you in my thoughts and prayers this weekend and pray for strength, peace and hope to bless you all.