The months following Charlotte's arrival

8th March 1993

We are now on holiday. It is good to be away but it all feels so unreal, and I find it hard because she is on my mind so much. I look out across the marshes and it’s baby Charlotte’s face I see superimposed on the scenery. I read a book and find I’ve lost the thread of the plot because my mind has wandered to her. I lie to sleep and face a continuous replay of what has happened. I get off to sleep, only to dream of her and have grief-filled nightmares.

Gone is the relief I felt first at her death. The reality of all I am missing without her has now hit me hard, I am empty. Every little enjoyment seems insignificant compared to our loss. Nothing can bring her back, nothing, nothing can heal the ache inside. Yet I should feel glad she is now free from suffering. I keep wondering why we bothered to pray for every detail at each stage of her development, WHY, is there any point? And yet I know God is real, God is love, and prayer is important.

A friend of the family felt prompted by God to pray for us at exactly the time that baby Charlotte was born. She had a vision, like nothing she’d had before, of a little baby girl being welcomed and loved by God, held to His cheek, and she knew it was our baby. She didn’t know our baby was to be a girl, and the timing has to be more than a coincidence. It’s a lovely picture to hold on to…

11th March

I wish I’d asked to hold Charlotte again, the next morning when I was feeling better. I feel more and more sad. In a sermon on suffering, a speaker said that instead of shouting ‘why?’, try asking ‘what – what good is God going to bring out of this situation?’. I want to be positive, not bitter. Saw a quote ‘Grieve not that they are no more, give thanks that they were’. Shall try…

14th March

Dear baby Charlotte, I am trying to be strong. I don’t want to spoil the special time we had together by becoming bitter now. I’m happy you’re in heaven, but I miss you, I physically ache for you. Last night, I lay in the bath and the sadness overwhelmed me. I used to sing to you in the bath, Christian songs to tell you of God’s love, and silly songs I made up to tell you I love you. Do you remember me telling you our plans for the future? –about how we’d decorate your room? And I used to soap my tummy, gently running my hands over you, praying for you, heart feeling it would burst with love for you. I really thought you were going to live. I dared to hope, dared to imagine, dared to dream. Baby Charlotte I miss you.

16th March

How dare people walk around like everything’s normal. Why are the flowers smiling as usual? How do sheep produce lambs while I produce death? It’s Spring. Life. Everything is springing into life. And to think people are smiling on their newborn babies. Why did she die?? why Why WHY Why why

I killed you baby Charlotte. My baby. How could I do it? Was it right? Can it ever be right? I didn’t want to do it, with every stage of inducing you I felt a traitor. You holding on for dear life while the cervix was opening, you fighting the contractions. I didn’t know what to do, baby Charlotte. You tell me what I should have done. I didn’t want you to suffer. Please understand. Please don’t feel rejected. I didn’t want to hurt you. I loved you all through labour, I loved you when I held you, I love you now. I’m so sorry.

8th April

I am seeing the counsellor at Queen Charlotte's hospital and she's amazingly supportive. But I’m frightened of getting out of control, afraid of drowning if the tears and pain get out.

12th April

I did some hard thinking at the Good Friday service at church. I cannot deny God’s love when I look at the cross. Jesus really did bear our grief and carry our sorrows, and with each hammer of the nails took upon Himself our anger, our pain. My anger, my pain. I know God is big enough to take my anger. It’s no use pretending my anger against God isn’t there. But it is as I look at the cross that I find a God who enters fully into suffering, I see Jesus who Himself questions God and feels abandoned. I meet a God who understands. And the resurrection also gives hope that things will change, one day things will be different. And I hold onto that.

24th April

I just feel an overwhelming sadness, I miss Charlotte terribly, I ache, I long, my eyes water with tears that don’t quite come. Every time I feel upset I squash it. My brain has a fuse that cuts out emotion if my feelings are in danger of overloading. Tries to protect me from pain, but the pain and rage is burning me up from the inside out.

We went on a boat around Derwent Water. The scenery was beautiful, but it was a really grey day and everything was dull. It fell far short of how it would look on a blue sunny crisp day. And that’s what it’s like without Charlotte. Yes, I can see beauty, but it is dulled, blunted. Without her the colours have lost their vibrancy, the clouds obscure the sun.

One day the clouds will clear and I will see beautiful colours again...