A snowdrop with some sadness

I should begin this entry with an apology…something along the lines of ‘I know this is supposed to be a gardening blog BUT (insert weird thing that happened which has caused me to vere off course) – but I’m not going to, because this is me…and the weird thing that’s happened is a part of my life…and this is my blog, and I’m going to write about it…..

SO:

Early on Sunday morning I had a miscarriage.  I was four months pregnant with my second child and so thrilled and excited that I’d told everyone at twelve weeks.

I’m going to keep it short but let’s just say that miscarriage at sixteen weeks is like something out of a horror movie but you don’t get to walk out of the cinema and forget about it.  My poor husband just had to stand there, unable to help me. Then everything went pear-shaped and I lost too much blood and had to be resuscitated and cleaned out and given a blood transfusion and basically I feel like a pile of excrement and my little baby is gone …BUT….

Here’s the thing…I was finally discharged this afternoon and I came home to my angel daughter – magical and laughing but a bit confused and needing me…and we went out into the garden and there was my first snowdrop (one of three that I had transplanted from a pot when we got here early last year and had forgotten about, and all the sadness just seemed to lift – not evaporate…it’s still there, but it’s just not so very heavy as when I was alone there in that hospital bed.

It’s not what I’ve lost that’s humungous any more…it’s what I already have that’s vast and joyful – my family, my husband, my daughter and my garden.  I’m deeply lucky; I’m acutely aware that I wouldn’t be so quick to see this without the miracle of my comparatively uneventful first pregnancy and resulting bundle of yumminess.  Strange to feel so very sad and yet so very happy all at once, and I think I am finally beginning to grasp how complex and rich life is when you love people, and that the histories we weave are always in flux and ever-changing, and that things aren’t black and white…not ever.

….That life is so very much like a garden.

There…I’m going to press ‘play’ on this quickly, before I start agonising about it…because perhaps one day I’ll regret letting these very private things out into the sky…but perhaps not.  Possibly it’s too soon, and I should wait until I can be less emotional about it…but the writing of it helps me, so perhaps the reading of it will help someone else…I don’t know.

30 Comments

  1. Posted January 17, 2011 at 10:25 pm | Permalink

    Dear Laetitia,

    nothing I can say will make this feel any better – I’ve been there twice myself, and my dear cousin recently lost her we’en at 38 weeks, so really feel your pain.

    You write all you want, it’s much healthier than bottling it all up, and it helps others to comprehend such difficult and tragic situations that often remain taboo and unspoken.

    Thinking of you – and hoping time heals.

    Love, Zoë

  2. Posted January 17, 2011 at 10:28 pm | Permalink

    My heart goes out to you and a huge hug. I cant imagine how you have and are feeling but children are wonderful at keeping us sane and giving us a purpose. Mine got me through a terrible time when they were little. Hang on to what you have, you will heal, be kind to yourself and dont expect too much of yourself for a while.
    Helen x

  3. Michelle Wheeler
    Posted January 17, 2011 at 10:30 pm | Permalink

    Grief can be a strange thing.A loss of anyone in our lives has a changing experience.I am so glad you have love around you.

    It never goes away completely,a loss it becomes part of you and makes you appreciate life.It’s not the same but when my boyfriend died suddenly, I remember having to remind myself to breath.My friends family helped me through and I learnt that life is wonderful.

    My thoughts are with you.xx

  4. Posted January 17, 2011 at 10:32 pm | Permalink

    So sorry to hear this. Look after yourself xx

  5. GirlAboutGarden
    Posted January 17, 2011 at 10:35 pm | Permalink

    Laetitia, I’m so very sad to hear your news and can’t begin to know how you feel. You are very brave for sharing it – I hope it has helped you in some way to do so. You’re right to focus on how incredibly lucky you are to have the people who love you and who you love around you. So great that they and your garden are there to help you heal.

  6. Posted January 17, 2011 at 10:37 pm | Permalink

    that is a really beautiful post laetitia xx

  7. Posted January 17, 2011 at 11:28 pm | Permalink

    Thank-you for posting this. I’m so sorry for your loss, but glad that you can start to see light on the other side. I don’t know what to say. I hope that, little by little, as the garden starts to burst into life again, it continues to get better.

  8. Gilly
    Posted January 17, 2011 at 11:56 pm | Permalink

    I am so sorry to hear your sad news, Laetitia. Thank you for sharing your feelings so eloquently. Take good care of yourself.

  9. Posted January 18, 2011 at 2:07 am | Permalink

    Oh you poor thing! You are so brave to share your feelings and to be able to see a wee glimmer of hope through the dark clouds. Thinking of you and your family and your little angel in heaven x

  10. Cabernat
    Posted January 18, 2011 at 7:10 am | Permalink

    I am so sorry to hear your sad news Laetitia.What a wonderful piece you have written. I hope that along with your family,it has helped to write your feelings down.
    Take care of yourself.

    Mary x

  11. Posted January 18, 2011 at 9:32 am | Permalink

    Oh my darling, I am weeping as I write this, I am so sorry to hear your sad news. Do take care of yourself, let yourself be taken care of by your family, and of course by your gorgeous little babety.

    Huge great cuddley hugs from me. You’ll all be in my thoughts.

    Ann-Marie xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

  12. Posted January 18, 2011 at 9:33 am | Permalink

    Ohhhh no, I am so sorry to hear this, so very sorry. I guess there’s little anyone can say other than to say we’re thinking about you, and hoping time heals. And how good it is that you can look at what you have already and get comfort from that. Do look after yourself …

  13. Posted January 18, 2011 at 9:50 am | Permalink

    Oh Laetitia. I’m so sorry. This is very tough. I know that writing about the sad stuff has helped me sometimes, and I hope it does you.
    Huge hugs and much love x

  14. Libby
    Posted January 18, 2011 at 9:59 am | Permalink

    I’m so very sorry Laetitia.. words seem so useless at a time like this but my heart goes out to you and your family. You’re surrounded by love and in the end that is what gets us through. Take care and be kind to yourself and above all let yourself be loved.

    With hugest hugs, Libby xxx

  15. Posted January 18, 2011 at 10:11 am | Permalink

    Oh, you poor thing. I’m so sorry. But your post is beautiful too. It is a perfect encapsulation of this strange, sad, surreal time. Take care of yourself, and try to get lots of rest. Jane x

  16. Christine Bryant
    Posted January 18, 2011 at 11:41 am | Permalink

    Thank you for sharing this. It happened to me too, and reading your blog brought the tears to my eyes again. The sharing helps the healing. I did not share my pain and feelings with my husband for a long time and it nearly drove us apart. Stay close, share your grief, and enjoy what you have. Time does heal. Thinking of you during this difficult time.

  17. Jill Crawford
    Posted January 18, 2011 at 12:15 pm | Permalink

    Hi there,

    I was out for a walk this morning and I dont know why your book came into my head. I am a dreadful gardener and your book inspires me to keep trying…so when I got back I just looked up your blog and couldnt believe your entry…Just to say I am terribly sorry for your loss and I hope you get plenty of rest and time to heal.

  18. Posted January 18, 2011 at 12:19 pm | Permalink

    beautifully written, I had tears whilst reading it, I am so sorry for your loss, they seem such useless words but they come heartfelt, it is so very brave to share in such an amazing way. thank you and do take care
    carrie (@cupcakefancy)

  19. Posted January 18, 2011 at 12:38 pm | Permalink

    Laetitia, WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH! So thank you to confide your life to us. Take care of you, Roberta.

  20. Posted January 18, 2011 at 1:32 pm | Permalink

    You’re brave to write this and inspiring to still be able to see the positives. I think sharing it will help others and I really hope it helps you too. Make sure you take care of yourslf. x

  21. Hema
    Posted January 18, 2011 at 1:37 pm | Permalink

    Good on you for pressing ‘play’ and sharing your thoughts and your feelings with your public. This is so beautifully written – sad and uplifting too… I hope the writing and sharing helps you cope and I’m so so sorry for your loss.
    Take care

  22. Posted January 18, 2011 at 6:43 pm | Permalink

    Truly sorry to read your sad news. An awful experience to have to go through, just at the stage where you start to imagine a new future. Hope it helps to share your thoughts and know that so many people have you in their thoughts. Sue x

  23. Roland Paterson
    Posted January 18, 2011 at 6:52 pm | Permalink

    Much love and hugs. Be strong.

  24. Larry p
    Posted January 18, 2011 at 8:21 pm | Permalink

    I’m so sorry Laetitia (and Hunk).
    My heart stopped when reading your blog. I have been through this. It is so painful and shocking. You will have some hard days ahead but you will start to feel better in time but will never forget your little one.
    Wishing you well and with much love and sympathy xx

  25. Laetitia Maklouf
    Posted January 19, 2011 at 9:26 am | Permalink

    I just wanted to say how healing it has been to receive all your lovely messages…I can’t thank you enough xxx

  26. Alison
    Posted January 19, 2011 at 12:14 pm | Permalink

    Much love to you, the Hunk and the little bundle of loveliness. You sound so strong. Rest and relax with hugs, hot chocolate, pj days and plans for the garden xxxxx

  27. Posted January 20, 2011 at 9:04 am | Permalink

    Hi lovely…so sad for you. A big virtual hug ahead of the massive real one later. Much love xx

  28. Hannah
    Posted January 20, 2011 at 4:43 pm | Permalink

    I am very sorry to hear your sad news and really feel for you right now. I can kind of appreciate how you feel as I myself have had a miscarriage and also a seven month old child. There are no right or wrong answers, just be xxx

  29. Posted March 6, 2011 at 3:31 pm | Permalink

    So sad. So sorry.

  30. Posted March 12, 2011 at 11:36 pm | Permalink

    Snowdrops are so soothing, in some small way. I’m so sad to read of your story, but hope the little joy of a snowdrop gives you some peace. Our eldest dog recently was very ill, went outside, lay in a bank of snowdrops and breathed her last… I’m sure it’s Nature’s way of giving us a little reminder of emerging life from the depths of winter, cold comfort as it is.

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  1. [...] Other people have blogged (beautifully) in the last month about far sadder things – including losing babies and losing friends. I know I have a lot to be happy about. So enough of the therapy session. I am [...]

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