TW: Child loss, Grief
On a sunny Saturday morning in late 2016, my first child Sebastian was born nine weeks early. He would be dead just nine days later.
So what is a young woman to do when her baby unexpectedly dies after a happy and healthy pregnancy? Can she call herself a mother when there is no baby to legitimise her motherhood?
Ever since my son died, I have had some terrible encounters with insensitive and nosy people, but I also had beautiful encounters with many more — mostly women, many of whom had a story similar to mine, or whose mothers/aunts/cousins/daughters did. Why hadn’t I heard these stories before? Why weren’t they being told more openly, more easily? Why is it still so cringeworthy to talk about our dead children and the profound effect that they’ve had on our lives?
I wanted to talk (write) loudly about my son, what he meant to me, and how I came to feel that his short life was one of the best things that could have happened to me. So I did. I wrote about that crushing Year of Firsts — and I realised something: grief isn’t all sadness and tears. It’s also inappropriate jokes, laughter, and joy, too.
So, here is Seb’s story. Well, it’s really my story. My family’s story. And the story of how the littlest life made the biggest impact.
Thank you for reading. x
My Son Seb should be read in order. If you’ve missed a post, or you’re new, you can use the links below to each instalment.