Motherhood – a definition

By on March 26, 2015

What does it mean to call yourself a mother? How do you define it? Once you call yourself a mother, what happens to that label, that part of your identity if your child dies? Are you still a mother? How do you keep that part of your identity when to all intents and purposes you have Read More...


i carry your heart

By on March 23, 2015

I almost feel bad pouring out these words of grief onto the keys each day. My usual worry about burdening others with my own pain flickers in the back of my mind. I know these words have made people cry. Part of me feels bad for that, and part of me thinks Eva deserved everyone’s Read More...



Grief, it gnaws

By on March 20, 2015

I picked up Eva’s ashes yesterday. The funeral director gave me a hug and told me if I needed anything to let him know. I walked down the street to my car carrying the white bag. The weight felt flimsy in my hand. Heavier than I’d expected, but lighter than the weight of a life. Read More...




Three weeks

By on March 16, 2015

It has been three weeks since Eva died. In some ways that night feels like a lifetime ago. In others I feel like I’m in it all the time. I don’t feel traumatised by it but occasionally I do find myself replaying scenes in my head. There are a few I stick on. The moment Read More...


She was worthy of my rage

By on March 10, 2015

I’m tired. I feel like Eva and I had built up so much momentum. We were in a routine. We were a well oiled machine. I was on top of her appointments and surgeries. I had relief days organised for doctor’s visits and I had got packing her nappy bag down to a fine art. Read More...


Sanctuary

By on March 10, 2015

People always feel like words aren’t enough in a time of grief. Words won’t make it better, no. They won’t bring the person back, or patch the break, or seal the wound. But they do have power. They can’t fix, but they can comfort. They can’t fix but they can make you see things differently. Read More...