I am a proud Mum.
I am also an empty-armed Mum.
My son Hugo, my only child, died in March of this year.
Hugo was a much-wanted baby, conceived after two years of trying and a round of fertility treatment. Tragically, when I was just 24 weeks pregnant I was diagnosed with the rare, life-threatening pregnancy complications preeclampsia and HELLP syndrome. The only thing to do was to deliver the baby: without that, both me and Hugo were likely to die.
My super champion boy fought so hard to live, but died in my arms aged 35 days. He was just too small. Hugo spent his life on a ventilator and in an incubator. I never got to bring him home.
Since Hugo's death, I have been overwhelmed by love and support from family, friends, and strangers. People who know how much Hugo means to me, who are always willing to listen to my stories about him and agree that he was a gorgeous baby. They make me feel included and accepted as a mother.
Sadly, such attitudes and responses are not universal. Death in general and baby loss in particular is still a taboo in this country. Many people like to think that death does not happen if it is ignored.
Grief can make the bereaved feel withdrawn and isolated, and the way some people have reacted to Hugo's death has made this worse. During small talk with a stranger, the conversation might come around to babies: I will mention Hugo, and say that he sadly died. I can sense their discomfort immediately - their eyes dart away and their body language changes. It is clear they would rather be doing anything other than talking to the bereaved mother about her dead baby, and they move the conversation along.
This is rude and insensitive, and it saddens me because I know that if everything had gone to plan and Hugo was tucked up in his pram, the same person would be cooing over him, eager to talk about babies and motherhood.
As a result there are times, especially when I am feeling low and hypersensitive, when I felt awkward about raising the topic with strangers. This makes me so cross - why should I feel reticent about bringing into conversation the baby whom I love with all my heart, to protect the sensitivities of others? Think how much the conversation of ‘normal’ mothers revolves around their children.
My partner and I were so ready to welcome a baby into our lives. We were, in a funny sort of way, looking forward to the sleepless nights, pooey nappies and all the challenges that having a baby brings - and to the endless conversations with other parents about them. We knew it would all be worth it. Having no baby to care for has left a gaping chasm in our lives.
Hearing other parents talk about the normal babyhood and childhood activities and challenges fills me with sadness because they emphasise my loss and everything I will never experience with Hugo. Not being able to join in with their ‘normal mummy’ conversations is difficult.
When I am feeling strong I say ‘stuff it’ to the awkwardness – I am so proud of Hugo, and want everyone to know it. I tell myself to put it in context – that their discomfort will last for just a few moments, while my heartbreak will last a lifetime.
I understand that some people may think it is better to say nothing, because they worry about saying something that will upset me. To those people I would say - the worst has already happened, and it would be difficult to cause me further distress. The best thing to say is "I'm so sorry," and perhaps ask the baby's name. Bereaved mothers and fathers are just as proud of their babies as the parents who have their babies in their arms. We love talking about them. It helps keep our babies alive in our minds.
My baby lives on in my heart. Not having Hugo physically in my arms makes me feel like I have to prove I am a mother. I wear an imprint of his hand and footprint on a pendant around my neck. It is a visual way of showing how proud I am of Hugo.
Despite my empty arms, many people see me as 'Hugo's mummy', and this, at least, makes me happy. I talk about him and write about him a lot, and it keeps his memory alive. But there are many other bereaved mummies who do not feel able to talk about their babies because of the taboo. That's why we need Baby Loss Awareness Week, to encourage people to be more open about the topic. Bereaved parents suffer enough without also experiencing awkwardness, ignorance and insensitivity.