It always surprises me how many people cannot quite bring themselves to actually say out loud that Teddy died. It often gets referred to as “What happened to you.” or “After what you’ve been through.” I feel as though people try so hard to protect me from something that there is no hiding from; and something that I don’t want to be protected from. Teddy died; he was here, he was so very loved, and then we lost him.
I think I say it out loud so often when I am talking to people as a way of trying to get my subconscious to catch up on what has happened. It makes it more real, and each time it’s said it reminds me that he was here. For that reason alone, I never want other people to try to protect me from the reality of it. It’s too late for that after all. I believe that when you fill the space of loss with all of your love, that you begin to make their existence more positive. Yes they are gone, but the love that has been left and that continues to grow from them being here is something very special indeed.
My heart always bursts with pride when I hear other people say Teddy’s name, or when I see it written down. When I am writing cards to people I often find myself wanting to write his name after ours as the space that follows ours just looks so blank; instead my pen just stops, and hovers for a moment. I love it when people write his name down in the sand or in special places and send it to me, it never fails to make me smile. I am so lucky to have an incredible group of ladies who have become my dear friends; we have all lost our babies and we take every opportunity to write their names together and send pictures to each other. When I was on the beach in Cornwall I sent one with the caption; “Took the gang to the beach today!” and I know it gives them that spark of joy that I get each and every time I see or hear Teddy’s name. As it turns out, that little gang are becoming quite the seasoned travellers thanks to our insistence on writing their names wherever we may go! One of my favourite images was sent to me by a fellow mama, Natalie, when she ran the Oxford half marathon last October. Knowing that Teddy, her son Leo, and all of the other babies were there in spirit to spur her on for each mile was such a heart warming thought.
I just want Teddy to be remembered, to be talked about. He will miss out on all of the “firsts” and everything else to come, so for now he lives in me and my husband and in everyone’s lives that he touched; and I feel as though we owe it to him to say his name each and every day. So if you know someone who has lost a baby, don’t be afraid to say their name, if they are anything like me (that’s a massively proud mama by the way) then it may just make their day.
Elle x
Lovely blog 💕 My friend lost her daughter over 10 years ago, whenever she sends me a xmas/birthday card I love how she always includes Grace by signing off with her & her husbands & earthside children’s names, followed with xxx G xxx. Love following you on Instagram, hugs to Boris & kisses to Teddy 😘
That is so lovely. Maybe I’ll start signing off with a T xx
What a beautifully honest and sensitive post. Your little Teddy must be very proud of his mummy for how you carry his memory and touch so many people with his story. Xx
Thank you for reading xx
Xxx TEDDY xxx I’m so proud to be your mummy’s friend. She is a beautiful lady with the biggest heart. She is the one and only we all have learned from. Love you both very much!
Teddy, I think of you and your gorgeous mamma most of the days. Wish you could meet my baby boy Artie Robbie. You are part of our lives forever. 💙❤️
Thank you lovely Klara, beautiful words as always. Sending love xx
This is something I always try so very hard to do for people I care for who have lost their babies during their pregnancies. To say I am sorry for what is happening to them but also to ask if their baby has a name, something which they will have spent time thinking about excited for their arrival. Using their names, acknowledging these little ones, their existence and the impact they made on their families. Thank you for sharing this post xx
Thank you for reading. I am sorry as a midwife that you’ve had to become used to this loss and how to handle it. I am sure that your care and acknowledgement of their little ones lives helps those families so much, I know that the midwives and consultants made things so much better for us. You guys do an amazing job. Sending love xxx
Elle, you have put into words so beautifully how I feel every day. My beautiful daughter, Eleanor, or ‘Nell’ as we called her, died when she was 15 days old in July 2015. I love to talk about her, to say her name, to imagine what she would now look like and I always hover when writing any sort of card as I so want to sign her name too. Your blog is so open, honest and eloquently written that I find myself saving excerpts to show people when I don’t know how to explain how I feel. Thank you so much for writing it. Emma xx
Thank you for sharing Nell with me Emma. I’m really pleased my words have resonated with you. Next time I’m near the sea I’ll be sure to write Nell’s name in the sand next to my Teddy. Sending love xxx
Beautiful words from a beautiful lady. xx
Thank you Ruth xx
I stumbled across your insta and blog from THTMM. so glad I did, I think you’re doing a great job! Xx
Thank you so much for reading Jemma! Xx
I have just read this blog post and also the one about health before wealth and I am an emotional wreck. You’re so brave and I hope people get used to saying Teddy. I love the idea in the first comment of signing cards xxx T xxx
Can’t wait to read more x
Diane x
Thank you for reading and for writing Teddy’s name! x
I can somewhat relate. I didn’t lose my child but following a perfectly healthy pregnancy and birth my little girl became critically ill at just 1 day old with Ecoli Sepsis. Family and friends still to this day seem to avoid discussing this time or the effect it had and still has on us. I wish they would, just so I didn’t feel quite so alone with those memories. Acknowledgement can be so powerful x
Thank you for reading Kate, and don’t worry you don’t need to try to understand or relate; I don’t think that is possible unless your child has died and I wouldn’t expect anyone to. I think child death is something people are scared to speak about, and I plan to help change that. No it’s not a nice subject, but try living it….that’s even worse. x
This is beautiful Elle. What a wonderful thing for your gang of children to be photographed and shared amongst the group. I know that when my friends tell me things about my husband without me bringing him up first or asking them to, it meams so much. I’ve also written anniversary cards from me to him and him to me, this our first year as parents, and although so upset by the prospect of father’s day with our little girl’s father dead, I did write a card for him from her, as I would have done had he not died. Our rituals of remembering and spraking them matter, don’t they?