Looking like a true survivor. Well, Elton had it pretty bang on didn’t he? The truth is, when I launched this little blog this time last year, I had no idea that it would be so needed. Not just for me, for my sanity and to express many of the emotions I had kept to myself, but for all of the other women, the survivors, who have contacted me over the past year.
I suppose the question might be; what have a learned? One year on. Well, the more this goes on (whatever “this” is?) the more that women contact me asking things such as “How can I start a blog?” or “How did you grow your Instagram following?“. I wish I could answer, but I am not entirely sure. I didn’t have a plan, but I did have something that I wanted to share with the world, so badly. I felt as though I needed to tell Teddy’s story in full. I wanted to raise some awareness surrounding baby loss; for miscarriage, stillbirth and neonatal death. A voice for those women, the ones who weren’t sure where they belonged anymore. The ones whose NCT groups had faded to a distant memory, whose friends were perhaps struggling to relate to any of the feelings that they had. That is what Feathering The Empty Nest was born out of.
I suppose that would be what I have learned this past year; have the courage to write about what you feel passionately about, and don’t let the fear of that passion being met with any negativity deter you from what you want to say. It is always, always, the blog posts that I worry most about posting (the ones that I hover my finger over the “publish” button for a good few minutes) that are the ones that invoke the most passion in readers. I suppose, you could say, that if I am feeling that I need to tell the world about that particular subject that much, then there will be thousands of women at home, thinking and feeling those exact things and wanting someone else to say them out loud. I must say, I still hesitate to post sometimes, but not as much.
Writing is my passion, as are words. It has always been the case, ever since I was at school. Yes, I was that annoying person who didn’t try in English lessons, barely paid attention and walked away with A*’s (I know, I want to slap her too). I don’t think I realised how much of a gift the English language was to me, until there was something that I really needed to communicate to the world. Until this point in my life, I have only ever really used it to write a blindingly wonderful complaint letter. Don’t get me wrong, still a great life skill to have, but you’re not going to change the world writing complaints?(Maybe you will, but that’s not why I am here). Since Teddy died, since I had those eight months before I began writing to get my words straight in my head, I feel as though I have finally found a place for my writing. A place where others will read and I can connect with women who, like me, need someone else to understand their emotions of loss. I suppose that’s why when people ask me if I will start a YouTube channel or start adding Vlogs to my site, my answer for now is no. Writing is a true therapy, one which I have become almost dependant on.
I feel as though I have paid an “ode to Instagram” many times before. I really don’t know how, but it seems to have worked so well to raise the profile of our fundraising. Perhaps it was using the hashtag #teddyslegacy, or perhaps it was other people’s willingness to share my page and Teddy’s story that allowed more people to know I was there? I haven’t ever pursued the idea of having more followers, of wanting to “be a blogger” or of having thought that Instagram could provide me with a career; I felt almost certain that it wouldn’t. Perhaps that attitude shows? Follow me, don’t follow me; I really don’t mind. Of course I care about every single person who takes the time to follow our story; but, we are never going to be everyone’s cup of tea, are we? I have no expectation to be.
If I am honest, Instagram most definitely doesn’t provide an income. I think that many people envisage me diving around in my money-pit at home (a’ la Scrooge McDuck) because they believe that social media and blogging must see me pulling in the mega money. Well, I am sorry to burst the bubble, but it’s not the case, for me anyway. In the past year I have earned very little; in fact when I was working I would have earned 2-3 times in a month what I have earned in an entire year of blogging and Instagram. Yep, truth hurts. Except, for me, that really doesn’t matter. We have raised almost £40,000 for charity; all in Teddy’s name. That’s where the important money has gone, and long may it continue. Really, I’m just over here taking a few photos of our home, hanging out with Boris, and cracking a few (bad) jokes along the way.
I know there is a living to be made from social media, but I suppose that just isn’t my main focus. I am in the fortunate position that, at the moment, I don’t need it to pay, so I can be really selective about who I choose to work with. I say “no”far more than I ever say “yes” to collaborations. For every advertisement I do, I probably could have done ten more. That isn’t me being boastful, but just doing my very best to stay true to what my page and blog are about. I would hate to ever appear disingenuous to anyone reading. For this reason, I made a rule for myself very early on when companies began to ask me to work with them, and it’s a simple one. When I get that email, if the company or the product isn’t something I would buy, isn’t somewhere I would shop, or isn’t something I want; I say no. It really is that simple. I see it a little like Marie Kondo’s “Spark Joy” theory with keeping things in your home. If the prospect of that collaboration doesn’t “Spark joy” in me; then I am out. So far, I think this has served me well. I have turned down a big supermarket (because I don’t shop there); a magazine shoot (who wanted me to put my name to Christmas decor from another major retailer that I don’t shop in); an interview for a red-top national newspaper (because I didn’t want Teddy’s story or our fundraising to be sensationalised, and it is my duty as his mother to protect him from that). You see, there are lots of things I could do, but sometimes I think you have to stop, and consider what are you really doing. What is this all about?
The answer for me, is Teddy. It is all for him, and will continue to be, for him. My advice would be this; if you have something that you want to say, that you feel the world might be a better place from you sharing; that you think other people might like to hear, or need to hear. Then do it. Blog about it, vlog about it; shout it from the bloody rooftops. Don’t just sit on it and think “What if?”
Some of the most inspiring people I have come to know, or know of, through Instagram and blogging, are the ones who say it how they see it. The women who are working to make a change in the world; from how we are treated in the workplace; to how Post Natal Depression needs to be recognised and spoken about, rather than us all expected to just “get on with it”. These women are the every day heroes, the trail blazers, the ones who have taken their own experience and suffering to pave a better way for others.
That’s it; my learnings, in a nutshell. So what are you waiting for? Go for it…….
Elle x
You are wonderful and such a strength to many struggling. You have created one of the best resources to go to in order to feel like we are not alone. Thank you – I am excited to see where you will be in another year.
Oh and as to the herbs from Instagram stories they get better – I now down mine with a minimum amount of cold water and apparently they still work!!! xx
Another amazing heartfelt and honest blog. So many people are just in it for the money and the glory and if I’m honest the advertising some other pages do is getting tiresome. Having had 2 miscarriages at 12 and 18 weeks I have felt loss but couldn’t begin to understand how you felt losing Teddy. You are a true inspiration and he is surely very proud of you. You are an amazing mummy
Sarah x
I have sat and read this and cried and cried. Your story and that of carols have really touched me. I lost my baby due to an ectopic pregnancy and often l find there is no escape or anyone to talk to about it. Even though I have very lovely friends I fear that I am boring them by bringing it up. Your blogs and insta remind me its ok to talk and keep talking. So thanks for that! We need more brave Elle’s in the world . Here’s to the future xxx
Thank you for this beautiful post Elle! I love what you say about being of service to others through our pain and suffering and pave the way for other women who might not have a voice or have found theirs yet!
Just beautiful and true!
Thank you xx
Hi Elle – I love the honesty and morals that you convey through your stories. I’m a Mummy who lost her baby daughter, 8.5 years ago to sepsis, and I still think about her everyday. I’ve since had 2 boys (after an enduring 10 rounds of IVF), but it happened! Please continue doing what you are doing on instagram and personally with your fertility treatments, as I believe you are an absolute inspiration.
I can’t wait to hear more from you in 2018. X
Elle your writing is just beautiful, you articulate the feelings surrounding Baby loss so wonderfully. I love how Teddy is at the centre of your world and all the decisions you make.
Personally at moments when I have felt my lowest or I feel so overwhelmed your words give me the strength and courage to parent Elodie just as I want to. She is at the forefront of everything I do. This is the ‘thing’ that is so hard to explain to those who have been so lucky to avoid the world of baby loss.
Thank you
PS Boris is the bees knees 🙌🏻
Hi Ellie, I have very recently found you on IG and have been so touched by yours and Teddy’s story and have been pouring over your blog and IG feed since. I’m so lucky not to have experienced your loss, but I do understand grief, and trying to find out who you are as a mother and who we are as a family when parenting does not go to plan.
Thank you so much for sharing your open, honest and heart felt story, feeling very inspired by you. So looking forward to seeing your journey unfold xxx
Hi Elle, just read your family’s story on the BBC website. I’ll not sprint towards you with my story other than our first daughter Maeve was 18 months when we lost her. But it was so good (?!? You know what I mean) to read about someone who spoke of their loss experience in a similar way to ours. Being a baby loss untouchable. A “don’t come near us with your baby loss pox” parent. And how like minded people (many who hadn’t experienced a loss) came from the unexpected places. How this now seems like a different life to “pre loss”. How’s there is NO prescribed way to grieve, and you can shove it if you think there is. How we still put Maeve in our Christmas cards and people think we’re cracked or haven’t “moved on”. Meh. Fuck em.
Sending you and Nico and Teddy love, being a parent is bloody hard isn’t it? Whatever the circumstances. Love from Nick and family in Belfast