I wasn’t sure what I was going to write about today. I’d had some thoughts of writing about how awesome all the female Team GB Olympians have been, or maybe doing a round-up of some nice clothes I’d seen yesterday window shopping in town during my lunch break. And then I read this.

Regular readers will know that I am a fairly regular contributor to Any Other Woman and if you follow me on Twitter, you might know that I regularly chat with some of the other readers and writers. We congratulate each other on successes, we laugh at shared jokes, send virtual pieces of cake when someone needs a pick-me-up and show support constantly. I love it and genuinely feel a kinship with this group of funny, warm and interesting women.

Fee is one of those women. She’s been commenting recently on AOW and Florence Finds about her pregnancy: offering advice to other readers suffering with morning sickness and telling us what it’s like on the other side of the bridge (stealing Sarah’s words there). I’m sure I’m not the only one that was looking forward to seeing the baby pictures and loved hearing how excited she was. And then, at 21 weeks, Fee’s little son couldn’t hold on and didn’t make it. I once read that parents who have children who don’t make it don’t like the phrase ‘loosing a baby’ because they didn’t ‘loose’ anything, but somehow I can’t bring myself to use the D word.

I don’t actually know Fee. I’ve never met her, I don’t even know her husband’s name. But as soon as I started reading her incredible post I had tears in my eyes. As she described her family coming home from holiday, the small acts of kindness strangers had shown her and them and the things her friends have done, those tears had begun to fall. I can still feel myself welling-up now. I’m so, so sad for her and her husband. There aren’t any words that can make it better, and I’m not going to try here, but it’s just so awful.

Now this terrible news is not about me (although perhaps one of the reasons this has affected me so much is because what has happened to Fee is my greatest fear) and I’m not going to make it so. However, when I recovered from my initial reaction from reading the post, my next thought was that I am genuinely part of a community at AOW. Sure enough, there are so many comments filled with kind words, real feelings of sadness and helplessness at the fact that one of our own is hurting. That has got to be a slight glimmer of hope at this time, hasn’t it? We’re very lucky that most of us not only have partners, family and good friends to help us along this sometimes awkward journey called life, but we also have this virtual community cheering us on. And I, for one, am very, very grateful for it.

Thanks, ladies.


3 thoughts on “Community

  1. Fee’s post today made me cry also, like I was reading the news of someone I know well in real life. I found it odd to remember that I’ve never met her, and the comments show that I’m not the only one. If nothing else, the response shows us what an incredible community has formed from the growth of AOW. I’m honoured and lucky to be part of it.

    Thank you all

    K xx

  2. We ‘lost’ our son Sam at 29 weeks. Esme was really too young to remember but I know that she and her siblings are aware of his place in our family because they see me fall apart every June 8th.
    It is so unbelievebly hard for the parents of the child but we musn’t underestimate how hard it hits the rest of the family, that they have lost someone too and that everyone needs to grieve in their own way and at their own pace. There is no right or wrong way.
    Now (he would have been 22 this year)time has definately helped and I find that I no longer wonder if it was anything that I did to cause his premature birth and I can remember my very short
    time with him and give thanks to whichever force also gave 4 other beautiful, amazing and wonderful children.
    As a foot note we did have a wonderful and suprising addition to our family 5 years later in the shape of Daisy Quinta who was also born at 29 weeks and is now a healthy strapping lass of 17 who wants (and WILL manage) to be a force in the West End in whatever Musical Theatre production will have her. Her sheer tenacity will see her through. BTW her middle name of Qunita was given to her to mark the fact that she is our fifth child and she very proud of it, so much in fact that she is thinking of using it as her stage name.
    Basically, what I’m trying to say is that the loss of a child is the hardest most tragic thing that any family will have to endure but there really is life after this and we do and will survive. Take joy in what you have that makes you happy and know that you are not alone. We aren’t the same people as before but maybe, just maybe we are stronger and better.

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