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.

MiaAlexandrasMummy

I'm glad you liked the poem. Can i recommend Susan Hill's book called 'Family' in which she writes about meeting her DH, starting her family and the premature birth and eventual loss of her second DD, Imogen. It is a truly wonderful book that reaches out to 'hold the hand' of all those readers who have endured terrible loss in their lives. Susan Hill embraces and celebrates the short life of her own DD and through this, we remember our own lost children.

I spoke today with another bereaved mother today, a very brave woman who is channelling her grief to campaign for changes within the NHS on behalf of her daughter, who she feels died needlessly. It seems that she has been inundated with similar stories from other parents. I really admire her.

Like me, her daughter is her only child. Like me, she remains totally in love with her little girl. And like me, she felt that she was the luckiest person in the world...

For me, I am reminded how my life has changed. Such a conversation to be having, comparing notes about the loss of our two beautiful girls. Unimaginable. This time last year, we were visiting friends, enjoying the sun, relishing every moment of being Mia's parents.

Last week, at my Olympic volunteer training, we all had to describe ourselves as a piece of sports equipment. People chose to be tennis balls, bouncy and round(!), hiking boots - tough and enduring, ping pong bats, dealing with all kinds of fast changes. I could only describe my life as a balance beam - trying to keep moving forward, with different forces pulling me from side to side as I try to make it from one end to another.

pookie, atree, ponders and horridhenry thank you for your all your words. I love thinking that Mia's wide smile is touching your lives. She is probably reaching out with a grubby, food-covered hand, but with sparkling eyes and a little squeak of happiness. My Little Miss. My Little Squeak.

Your little girl seems very real to me although I never knew her, because your words show her wonderful character and your devotion to her so well.
I hope it helped you to share with another mother who has been bereaved of a child- the only people who can truly understand how it feels. Thinking of you x

Mia was vibrantly real, a little person, a flame of light. She still is to me. She lives within.

Gorgeous words again, you are so talented. Oh Mia, such a beautiful girl, so precious, whenever I here about you I see your gorgeous smile and hug my DD a bit closer. xxxxx

I see Mia's gorgeous smile so easily now, her crazy red curls and those big teal eyes, filled with love and trust. Mia now sits in front of my eyes, and I can see her, without even closing them. It's like I have a set of standard images of her, ready for any moment I need them. But every now and then, I flick through my memory stack and chance upon one I had forgotten for a while... how I relish these discoveries, they are so beautiful and fresh, tender and wonderful.

Today I recalled how Mia loved to play with her musical projector, which would show underwater visions onto the ceiling at night, and playing tinkly rhymes or the sounds of the sea. She was always fascinated by the sight of the starfish at night, pointing to it as her daddy turned it on, accompanied by the noises of the sea. (It would make me smile how he would place it some distance from the cot, so Mia wouldn't be blinded by the light, as she always moved around in bed.) During the day, she would pull it around the floor of the room, and quickly figured out how to press the different buttons for a new song or noise. Mia never tired of its sounds, although the disappearance of her starfish during the day did cause some consternation. It was her love of this projector which helped her to learn to crawl, as I placed it a distance away, and encouraged her to move towards it. And one morning, she did. She blessed the projector with her magic straw wand, pressed the buttons proudly, and did her happy bounce of joy.

How I love those bounces of joy! Such an exuberant way to show emotion.

Love you to infinity, my beautiful girl. You light up every moment.

As always such beautiful words, I can picture Mia laughing and playing with her projector. Iam so glad that Mia is so close, she will be always part of you. May your pain ease and happiness shine upon you. xxxx

Quite a surreal experience yesterday. I met up with three other mothers who have lost their children in similar unexpected circumstances like Mia. We met at a charity fundraising event, a pampering session, surrounded by lots of other happy people enjoying the opportunity to try new make-up or beauty looks.

Not a typical environment in which you would expect to meet such people, and talk about your lovely children, and the terrible circumstances of their deaths... but perhaps best that way. It's not a group anyone ever wants to join, so perhaps it doesn't really matter how you meet. It is irrelevant, really. You are all going through the same heart-rending, mind-destroying pain.

I accompanied a very pg friend today around the town, and we popped into a framing store to choose some frames for photos she had done of her DD. She was very worried that it would upset me, but in truth, it gave me the opportunity to think about a photo montage I would like to do of Mia, with lots of series of small photos of her, mounted in a single frame, which captures her different adventures, moods and expressions. So many smiles and moments to treasure. So much love.

Oh, my sweet girl. You live in my heart. x

I imagine it must have been quite therapeutic (if that's the right word?) to be able to talk to other mothers who've been in the same tragic situation as you?

As always, love and light to you and your DH.

Just like to say , I wont be around as much . as starting a new job; but I will be thinking about you and your smiley girl. xxxx

I have realised something today. Something special.

I am very lucky. For I am Mia's mummy. No-one else in the whole, wide world has this wonderful, amazing, joyful privilege. No-one else can say that. I feel so special and honoured that somehow, I was given this unique opportunity to be the mother of such a sweet, charming, funny little girl.

I stand tall with this knowledge.

So true Mia'sMummy ! That's a wonderful way to look at it.

This thread started just DD was born. She very, very nearly died in labourv and I have never been able to open this thread until now. I have tears rolling down my cheeks and am holding DD just that little bit tighter than usual tonight.

Mia's Mummy, you are such a loving, brave, strong, passionate woman. You have such a beautiful way with words that you have brought Mia alive for me; of course you will always be her Mummy., that can never change.

I am so sorry, this is truly heart breaking and I hope you can remain strong and understand you had noway of knowing.

Mia is a lucky girl to have had such a wonderful mummy for time she was here. You will always be her mum no matter what.

Sending big hugs xx

The last few lines of one of Mia's favourite books that we both loved to read to her...

And the next baby born
was truly divine,
a sweet little child,
who was mine, all mine.
And this little baby,
as everyone knows,
has ten little fingers,
ten little toes,
and three little kisses
on the tip of her nose.

As I pass photos of Mia, I often can't resist touching the curve of her nose.

I love you, sweetheart. x

bikerunski I can completely understand how this thread was so hard for you to read. However, thank you for doing so. Please just hug your little girl tightly.

Lovely book, I love reading it too Mia's Mummy.

I'd like my old life back please. Has anyone seen it? I'd take it back in an instant, no questions asked. I just want my beautiful Mia. It shouldn't be so hard, should it?

Miasmummy, how I would love to help you with that wish

All I can say is that I continue to enjoy hearing your tales of Mia - you and she are definite characters in my daily thinking now. You've entranced us all with her.

Sending you love, light and hope and some too.
XXX

Dear MiaAlexandra'smummy,

I first saw your thread last night and spent several hours half-blinded by tears reading your heartbreaking love letters to Mia. Your infinite love and pain expressed so poignantly, sometimes elegiacally, sometimes throbbingly will reach a heart of any parent. Any person, really.

Thank you for sharing Mia with us. Your little golden girl will always shine through your life and will light a path for you even if you don't know where you are going and why. As you sift your 400 days for the gold dust of Mia's giggles, squeaks and dimples, for the lovely chunky nuggets about her antics and bounces of joy, you are putting together a precious rosary that you can linger over. And in a very strange way, so will others, even those who have never met your flaming miracle except through your love to her.

I am wishing you and your husband all the strength and faith in the world. Be kind to yourself - because that's what Mia wants as well. I am wishing sunshine in your lives and praying for you.

I am only too willing to share Mia with you all. Writing about her keeps the love forefront, especially when the pain is very great. Mia will always be a part of my life, but I regret so, so much, that she is not here for me to see what she was, what she is now, and what she could be. That loss is immeasurable.

I have just been sent two pieces of writing about Mia from miasgrandpa and my mother. They will be added to the Mia book I am compiling - and much of this thread will end up there too. We want to rejoice in all the amazing moments of her life.

Their pieces are so beautiful. Heartfelt. What my parents made me see just how very visible my love for Mia was. I never knew that. I just knew that every day was wonderful. They both rejoiced in my fulfilment, my contentment.

The memories they have recorded with such love took me back to those moment we shared together with Mia, little pockets of happiness in my mind. And because the mutual love between Mia and I was so very great, so they not only mourn Mia, but also the loss of that beautiful, special mother and child link. She was, and remains, a wondrous and beloved little girl.

Thank you Mum and Dad.