October is the month of infant loss awareness and I have something to say about it. Since day one I have been hearing sentences like ”You need to move on, You need to go back to your old self”. I was speechless. It’s 77 days that she is gone and it doesn’t feel less. It doesn’t feel like time is healing. And I cannot move on and especially not go back to my old self.
I noticed that this seems to be more uncomfortable for friends and colleagues than for me. Some of them never wrote me because I guess it’s hard for them. Just to let you know, you cannot hurt me more than I am. Kind words are actually comforting. If some topic about babies pops out they seem to put me out of conversation, which honestly is funny to me. In the beginning I was expecting I will never want to see another baby again and I will hate everything about them and I believe this is common misconception. However, my need for small cuddles is probably bigger than ever. My body is still recovering from pregnancy and birth, and I believe I still have some mother hormones left somewhere. I love babies just as I was loving them before. Although, it’s not the same, because every time I close my eyes I think of holding my Aurora for seconds. Another bothering thing is when people say I would not like to remind you — you really think I am forgetting something? It is one silly assumption to make. You don’t forget mean stuff someone did to you in high school years ago and you think I will somehow forget loosing my daughter.
October was the month to leave her remainings to rest. While we were pregnant, we were talking about making small trip over Italy through all small and hidden villages and trying out Italian food where it really comes from. Well, we needed to bring her to Sicily and we couldn’t see better way to do it. We packed her urn on our back and we went onto her trip. We took her to restaurants, we took her to the beach, we took her hiking, we took her discovering new places, eating new food, people would probably be freaked out if they knew, but we couldn’t leave her anywhere. We were watching with big pain in our chest other people with their babies on the back, and there were we, with our baby on our back, taking her home. We wanted to show her that this place here is not so bad. We wanted to show her that we would have been hell out of parents – in a good way.
I couldn’t say goodbye. It’s some incredible feeling that keeps me going on. I let her go in my arms, but I never said goodbye even if I know that for this life I will never see her again. So please, do not feel ashamed or scared to talk about babies in front of me, or to ask me something about Aurora. She was there, I was holding her, she is my first daughter, my first child. Your silence is trying to deny that. I try to remember her as much as I can every day with some kind of joy, with some kind of gratefulness. Do it with me.