10:40 am

That's what life is now, a test of my endurance. I'm actually scared writing that in case there is more to come.
When I was 17, exactly one month before my 18th birthday, I went to school in the morning, and when I came home in the afternoon my Dad was dead. He died very suddenly at the age of 43 from a brain hemorrhage. I adored him.
Over the next few years a whole lot of shit happened,and I really thought that was how it was being a grown up.
Then I met Woody, we had a family, and I thought life was good. Just days before Florence was born,I thought how lucky we were.
Now, I'm walking in a dream.I'm loving my living children, and my husband. I'm scared for them and for myself, and I'm desperate to hold Florence in my arms.
Did it all really happen? Has the past year just been a dream?
I grew and birthed a beautiful daughter and she's gone. I can't even believe I'll ever see her again. My only hope is that when I die, as the last electrical impulses are surging through my brain,I'll think she's there in my arms.
I'm so sorry Florence, forever is forever.

Don't be shy, say hello!


  1. Anonymous11:29 am

    Have you seen the movie "What dreams may come"? Robin Williams plays a father whose children die in a car accident and his wife becomes depressive after that incident. It's all about being somewhere you don't want to be - it's a very sad sad movie. But in the end - they all died at some point of time - they are united in whatever you want to call it - paradise, heaven - a place they all want to be togehter.
    We are not true religious believers and this movie doesn't enforce it - but watch it, if you haven't yet. Its' end is so soothing...

  2. oh my darling .. I have put of commenting for too long .. I feel your pain, as a Mama who's baby girl died 39 mins after her birth in March 2005 .. I know those aches, those tears, those feelings.
    I am so sorry and so very sad that you know them too.
    If there is anything, anything at all .. please let me know.
    Thinking of you and have lit a candle several times for your beautiful daughter since her birth.

  3. Aww Jeanette, I wish I had words, any words that would take even an ounce of the pain away from you.

    Thinking of you and sending virtual hugs (((hugs)))

  4. (((Hugs))) Danielle. How I wish we lived close enough to have a cup of tea. I so relate to your post and have felt the same in the five months since our George died. I recently read an account of the death of a woman who'd lost several babies and blogged about it here: http://busyhandsbc.blogspot.com/2009/09/glimpses-of-hope.html

    Maybe it will give you the same sad comfort it gave me. More (((hugs))).

  5. Cyber Hugs..... when i read your comments my day paled into insignificance.
    Lighting a candle and saying a prayer
    san xx

  6. Oh Jeanette. Sometimes it does all feel like something to be endured. Who knows? If we seem them again in another place or in those last electrical impulses in our brains? I hope we do. I hope so. xoxo

  7. It's so hard. Sending love and light. BB xxx

  8. Jeanette, I hear you. I wish I had something more profound to say other than that I'm reading and listening and thinking of you xxx

  9. My Mum died when I was 14, from cancer. The world does crack when a parent dies, and I have lived in fear or terror of it happening to a loved one again. It has happened to you again, and the pain must be immeasurable. but remember, remember, after the death of your Dad there were good times again. Keep holding on


Hi, I love to hear from readers, hate to think I'm talking to myself here, so don't be shy say hello!