Of losing three pregnancies in my life, of the little beans that I didn’t get to meet. Of little Bella who we thought would bring more joy to our already happy home, which then turned into such a tragic story of baby and child loss. I’m pretty realistic when it comes to pregnancy. I know it doesn’t always go to plan, that if a pregnancy ends in the early days then it’s not meant to be, but it doesn’t make it any easier to have that hope taken away. It’s a physical and mental loss.
Then I think of my mental health which has been challenged beyond belief with lost babies and my daughter last year. I’m grieving the loss of them constantly but also the loss of me. I’m not who I was. I’m not sure who I am anymore. The things I thought were important to me aren’t important now. I’ve lost my carefree. I’ve lost the ability to laugh from the heart. I’ve lost the certainty of having all my happy, healthy children at home.
I think of all the people I’ve met who have lost too, and who are experiencing the after effects of loss right now, struggling to make sense of it, just as I do.
My post about how professional mental health care seems to have been reduced to a leaflet, leaving many people feeling hopeless and abandoned, stuck a chord with so many of you. We have lost that human touch, of giving people the understanding and support they need during some of the most difficult days of their lives. Our wonderful charities are what keeps us going, but not everyone can access even those. It shouldn’t be this way.
I’m always looking to the heavens. I see the signs shown to us all if we only just look. This week, I was caught in an expected thunder storm. A large black cloud blew over my daughter’s riding stables and threw down buckets of rain.
Yet all too soon the sun appeared again and I found I was stood under the most beautiful double rainbow. I was reminded of the story of Noah and, after the huge loss caused by the flood, cleansing the Earth, how God then sent a rainbow as a promise to us all that He will protect us, always.
And then I saw the amazing skies after the storm and considered that – without the terrible storm – I would not have seen this beauty. A small sign of hope after loss. Indeed, after my sad losses, I now have my own rainbow baby, who eases the pain in my heart a little more each day.