No doubt this writing will appear abrupt and indelicate and I apologise for the necessary urgency, which prevents my attempting to write this with a hint more sensitivity than I have found the time to afford it at present. You see, my offering of links to support groups that hope to help the reader cope with Pregnancy and infant loss is partly my way of asking for my behaviour to be excused or hopefully understood during our family holiday this year. Celebrating Christmas and or New Year Tyrolean style has become a tradition amongst our immediate and close family.  This year as everyone else looks forward to spending their days in the snow and on the slopes, with glasses of schnapps and gluhwein, hot chocolate and brandy, germknodels and goulasche soupe to warm their bellies, I will be carrying around with me, my own little black cloud and it is this that I ask to be excused for. Before we fly off this year, I want to express a moment of acknowledgement for the loss of the baby that we never had the happy chance to announce, during our holiday last New Year.

We named our baby Gabryel. Gabryel was born an Angel on 11th January 2001

The reason why none of this has been mentioned openly before is simply that it’s too painful but also that being on holiday to begin with at a time of Christmas, New Year and birthday celebrations, holidaying with an expectant friend, then on our return home still further celebrations one falling on top of another, of birthdays, special birthdays, new jobs, wedding plans, new homes; then hearing of the loss suffered by two of our own dear friends and then of happy arrivals, I felt that announcing our bad news before we’d had the happy opportunity to announce the good, would be seen as deeply indelicate and raining on everyone else’s parade. It has been one of the most painful and difficult times I have ever had to cope with.  The state of my health, though possibly initially the cause of my pregnancy loss, has deteriorated noticeably over the space of this year.  There are times when I wish that I could have screamed my pain from the rooftops but I think our reluctance to do so could also in part have been the awkward possibility of opening a can of worms in discussing the private matter of my history of miscarriage. I have carried with me the knowledge of the babies we lost and I have so far been content to acknowledge them in our own way.  Privately.  Gabryel on the other hand has been such a strong and obvious presence with us, making such an impact on me in so many ways; I hope to express some of them with more thought when we return from this trip. This impact alone seems to demand acknowledgement from the world for the tiny spark of life that we will never meet, nor hold, nor nurse, nor hear giggle, chuckle, laugh, cry; sing to; play with, nor watch over; the spark of life that was Gabryel. This vivid presence may in part be because Gabryel has been the only baby I have lost since having three successful pregnancies, my understanding of this being, that I cannot help but look into the faces of my three wonderful, vibrant and spirited  ‘peas in a pod’ and see Gabryel’s face amongst them.  In this funny way I feel we have met.  It’s this tantalising hint of the familiar sound and familiar appearance of my baby that compels me to share Gabryel’s existence with everyone that matters to me. Christmas can sometimes be a difficult enough time of remembrance for those who have lost a loved one, yet I think it can be more difficult still when the anniversary of loss falls at a celebratory time of year and still even more difficult when that loss was of a baby or a child. You cannot get away from the image of family and children at Christmas time, this can be the most poignantly painful thing to endure, especially alone. If I had my time over again, I would speak out, I would tell anyone with a part in my life that would listen.  I wouldn’t worry about raining on anyone’s parade for fear of being thought of as a ‘band Wagoner’.  Bottling up such strong emotion is self-destructive; you just have to find some way to let it out. I was very lucky to find individual support and friendship via an online community I was already involved with.  I have since developed a small number of closer virtual friends, kindred spirits, who have been willing to let me voice my pain and I will be eternally grateful for all the help they offered and continue to offer.  I feel sure that it was only having this outlet that stopped me from cracking altogether under the strain. There are a growing number of Miscarriage, Pregnancy Loss and infant loss support groups in the UK though there is still a greater number in the USA. I found some of the poetry of loss the most helpful and I still like to read them to help me over my maudlin moments.  What I also found very helpful was the attitude on a lot of the USA sites that demand better treatment and understanding for women and families that have suffered pregnancy losses. I hope you find these sites as helpful as I did. Love, light and peace Tracy