A Different Kind Of Easter

Last Easter was so full of hope. I was married to the love of my life and in a matter of weeks, we were going to meet our first child. My maternity leave had just started. I had my 35-week check-up that showed a bouncing, happy, healthy baby. We spent Good Friday at the beach finalising baby names and Saturday with friends. Everything was perfect.

It’s hard to think back to that time now. It was a time when I still believed that healthy babies didn’t die. It was a time when stillbirth wasn’t part of my vocabulary. It was the last time I was truly happy.

I knew that the run-up to April would be hard. Reliving those days in a new and vastly different reality would be painful, the stark contrast somewhat cruel. But as with most of this journey, I had no choice. Each day passed and before I knew it Easter was upon me.

Benjamin being born on Easter Sunday means that we have two anniversaries…his actual birthday (16th April) and whenever Easter falls that year. I didn’t know which was going to be worse and I wasn’t looking forward to finding out.

I woke up on Easter Sunday not knowing what to expect. The previous weeks had been suffocating and painful, punctuated with crippling flashbacks of that fateful day when our world changed forever. There was nothing to indicate that this of all days would be any different but to my surprise it was.

Instead of being met with the usual debilitating grief I had become so accustomed to I was met with a strange sense of hope. I felt light like a weight had been lifted. I felt love. A love so great that it shone brighter than anything else that day. I felt my little boy so close to me that I could swear he was there.

Don’t ask me what we did that day. I actually can’t remember. All I can remember is my heart bursting with love. Somehow despite all the pain and the yearning we had a nice day. I can’t explain it and in some ways, I don’t want to try. Just as the bad days are what they are so was this. It just was.

Hope isn’t something that has come easily to me in the last year. It was stripped away from me in spectacular fashion as soon as Benjamin’s heart stopped beating and it has been elusive ever since. But the great love that we have for Benjamin and that he has for us will never die. It will live on in us forever. Benjamin’s light will always shine through, bringing us hope when we least expect it.

Mummy & Daddy at Easter Sunset














4 thoughts on “A Different Kind Of Easter

  1. Oh sweet momma!
    April 15th is when I had to give birth to my precious son Marcellus who was stillborn. I held him for 13h and it was not enough. It’s been 6 days only, my pain seems unbearable right now.
    Your story and your son Benjamin give me hope for a future filled with love and less pain
    Thank you!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh my dear Natalia, my heart is broken for you 💔 I know how much pain you must be feeling right now. I wish I could take it away for you. Hold on to Marcellus’ love, it will get you through the days. Take small steps & be patient with yourself. There is hope. Marcellus will always be your son and fill your heart with love. Nothing can ever change that. He will never be forgotten. Sending you lots of love Mama xxx


  2. On April 15th I lost my baby girl Lulu, I had emergency c section due to severe preeclampsia and baby Lulu was born extremely premature at 24+4. She fought for 13 days in NICU, we had our hopes but an infection took her in a day. Before her last day she had weight gain and all good news from Drs then the next she’s gone. She was too fragile and I hated myself not being able to protect her.
    I came across your blog and read the journey after your loss. I hope I will have the same strength to go through this pain. Like your Benjamin, Lulu is my first and I am over 40. I never thought that I wanted a child so much after losing her. During the the first 20 weeks, my pregnancy was uneventful, I did my regular gym and weekend hikes and all the ultrasound, tests showed a healthy baby. I found my bp raise a bit to 130/80 around week 22 and was told to monitor closely which I did, and started to be careful on salt intake. Little did I know that it went bad so quickly, 1 week later I had edema, proteinuria and elevated liver enzyme. my bp went up to 200 and I was at high risk of stroke. I was so angry about myself, my ob who did not take it seriously when I started to have signs. But I know nothing will bring her back. My precious baby was a beautiful feisty girl, she extubated herself on the first night before they put it back because her lung is not matured. That night I heard her cry, very tiny little voice. I miss her so much.
    I know I still have a long journey to go through and I should focus on my recovery and never give up hope. Thank you for sharing your stories.


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