The Lost One – A Mother’s Love

Dedicated to Kevin Wernars still born on 8th January 1981
and
Aimee-Kate Lattimer 15 December 2004 – 25 March 2005

I was 16 years old when I first saw Theo at the movie house in Kriel… He stood across the room, over 6 foot tall, blond, square jaw, gorgeous!  He had an air of worldliness about him that you don’t often see on the platteland, at least not in the part I came from.  I was used to either Afrikaans guys, good mannered, shy for the most part but often up to mischief if no one was around to catch them, or the British blokes, beer drinkers, guys who swore and generally were unruly.  Our eyes caught each other across the room and somehow I knew this was the man for me!  I’m writing this over 25 years later and I can say in all honesty I’ve never met another man that I wanted children I with.  I didn’t realise that at the time though, I just knew there was something about him… I had to get to get to know him!

It turned out he was dating a friend of mine but after that sighting of each other it wasn’t long before he’d broken things off with her and the two of us were dating.  Oh what a thrill it was!  He was 24 years old, working with his father and living in the family home having recently come up from Durban. He had such a clean, healthy look about him, so handsome so sophisticated.  Needless to say I was head over heels in love with him in no time!

He used to pick me up from school in Witbank every Friday and I’d feel ever so important having such a great looking guy waiting for me outside the gate.  We usually got Kentucky hamburgers on the way home… I didn’t like Kentucky food and still haven’t developed a taste for it since but he could have fed me anything I was so smitten with him. 

He and I met just before my father died. I think about a month at the most.  I do know if my father had not died when he had Theo and I would not have gone out for very long as my father was extremely strict!  We had curfews, he didn’t like the idea of guys coming to date his daughters.  My eldest sister had fallen pregnant when she was 16 and my father had vowed to kill the next daughter and her boyfriend if she fell pregnant.  If you knew my father you’d know it wasn’t a threat we took lightly.  There were still four of us in school at that time and after my father’s death there were many turbulent months ahead moving from one house to another.  In those days a single woman was not allowed to have a house on Kriel regardless of who she was working for.  Theo’s father organised a job for my mother who had never worked in her life before and was suddenly left with four teenage children to support.  We eventually settled in the caravan park in two caravans, my mom and my brother in one and my youngest sister and I in the other.  My second eldest sister had completed matric by then and left home. 

The romance with Theo was strong and it wasn’t long before we became sexually active.  I was so young and in love.  In my eyes he could do nothing wrong.  There were certain character traits I picked up or that were pointed out but I chose to ignore, such as being physically distant when out with people, not very emotional, always telling other people how things he had or knew were bigger, better etc.  Always trying to impress and outdo.  I loved him though and he told me he loved me too. 

I was in my matric year and there were a lot of arguments with my mother, the usual teenage stuff but being a teenager in my mind they were exagerated.  I so badly wanted to leave home.  I’d found the perfect man and even though I was young my maternal instincts had really kicked in strongly.  All I wanted was to marry him, settled down, have babies and love them.  Boy was I naïve! 

There was one incident that stood out for me.  He received a letter from his ex-fiance in Durban.  She’d written to tell him he mustn’t pine for her, he must move on with his life etc etc.  What a cheek I thought!!  He was afterall more than happy with me!  We were a couple!  I’ve always had an extremely good memory so when he showed me the letter I memorised the address and sent her one back from me telling her she needn’t worry (sarcastic!) he was quite ok and happily involved with me and best she move on with her life!  He made a big fuss of taking all the things she’d written him and going to the veld to burn them all.  I never knew and still don’t what was in those letters.  It was only after the birth of my third baby that he told me he was still angry with me for having written to her as he’d hoped they’d get back together! 

In the meantime though I’d gotten the idea into my head that if something were to happen and I fell pregnant he’d be more than happy to make me his wife.  We could live happily ever after and no one could tell me what to do ever again.  My husband would love me and our babies and no troubles would come our way.  I was on the pill but didn’t take a few here and there in the hopes I would fall pregnant, not telling him or giving him a choice in the matter.  I did eventually about 10 years later confess the truth to him that I’d actually fallen pregnant on purpose.  By then we’d been divorced for at least 5 years and we’d been stuck together in a room all on our own at the child maintenance court and told to come to a settlement.  We were there for over three hours and ended up discussing a lot of things.  I knew then and even more so now that what I’d done was wrong… but in my 17 year old mind it was the answer to my quest for love!!  A loving husband, a baby all of my own to love… what more could I want!

My body is extremely senstive to changes and I knew even before I’d missed my first period that I might be pregnant.  I remember the trip to the doctor, an afternoon all on my own to go and have a test done.  I remember the sheer excitement walking out of there, skipping like the child I was back down the road so happy, exstatic.  My prenancy was confirmed!  I was going to be a mother!

I’d told my mother I was going as I had suspicions, I hadn’t said anything to Theo yet though and I couldn’t wait for him to get to me that night!  I couldn’t wait for the moment he’d take me in his arms tell me he loves me and wants to marry me!  We had discussed once what would happen if I fell pregnant and he told me then that he’d love to have children, so now was the time it would be happening.  We sat in his car, outside the caravan where we usually sat to have some privacy.  I looked over at him my heart full of joy and happiness.  “Theo, I’m pregnant, I’m going to have a baby!”

For a moment he looked stunned!  Then he opened his mouth and my world fell apart “You’ll have to have an abortion”.  What!!??  How could he say that!  He loved me!  He was supposed to ask me to marry him, not to abort the precious life growing inside of me!

I cannot even start to describe how devastated I was.  Those words had cut through me like a knife!  I can’t fully recall what happened or was said next, all I remember is he left shortly after and I was left alone.  17 years old, unloved, unwanted, pregnant and rejected!  Now though it wasn’t only me, it was also the small spark of life growing inside of me that was rejected.  My child that I just wanted to love, to hold, to raise, something of my very own that no one could take away from me.

My mother, ever the practical and caring person she is did broach the subject with me, giving me options, friends of hers were prepared to pay for me to go overseas and have a safe abortion, as in those days it was illegal in South Africa and the ones that were done went with major risks.  I would under no circumstances even consider such a thing!  After that she only spoke aloud to wonder how we would fit a cot into the caravan…

I cried and cried until I got angry!  How dare he just reject me!  How dare he not care!  After all the love he’d professed to have.  When I spoke to him he was cold as ice.  He agreed to come around and discuss how we would handle things when the baby was born, he admitted he’d not said anything to his parents yet and asked me not to until he found the right time.  He did not pitch for the meeting.

I was livid!  His parents lived about 2 km’s from the caravan park.  Not one to be deterred or cast aside like an old rag I marched off to his parents house to see where he was and why he’d not turned up.  His younger brother who was the same age as me opened the door and you could see the shock and surprise written on his face, he obviously knew and hadn’t expected me to have the audacity to turn up on their doorstep.  I asked for Theo ony to be told he was out.  By this time I didn’t give a damn and asked to speak to his father instead.  He was an old man already but having raised 6 children in a strict Dutch tradition his children were scared of him.  Lawrence’s eyes went even bigger but he went to fetch his father.

“Mr Wernars, I’m pregnant, Theo was supposed to come around tonight and discuss what we’d do and he hasn’t bothered to come!”  The poor man didn’t know what to say, a young scrap of a girl standing on his doorstep angry enough to move mountains.  He did his best to pacify me, then gave me a lift home and told me not to worry he’d sort it out with Theo.

Next thing I remember is Theo coming back, us back in a relationship and discussing getting married.  I chose to forget his initial reaction.  Afterall I was his girlfriend.  He’d told me he loved me and I was going to have a baby.  It was the right thing to do.  I realise now he father must have told him he’d have to do the right thing by me, I didn’t bother to think about it then!  I finally had what I wanted.  I didn’t give a thought to what he wanted.

In the meantime the fights and disagreements between my mother and I were coming to a head.  I was misunderstood, my youngest sister was put before me, I had to wash the pots she’d not bothered to do the day before, you name it I wasn’t a happy camper.  It got so bad I ended up moving a week or two later to a couple that were friends of Theo, Dave and Sue.  We made arrangements to get married in the magistrate’s court but had to have my mother’s permission because of my age.  We went to the caravan park together to ask her if she would sign the documents so we could marry.  Given the stress she was under, the way I’d stormed out and moved out of the home I can’t blame her today but she turned around and said no.  I remember her sitting there quite calmly, watching TV, curlers in her hair, NO!  What??!! I’d come this far in getting my dream and now she was standing in my way.  I was angry and frustrated and ended up bonking her on the head with my closed fist as I marched out.  That must’ve been painful with those curlers in!

Theo and I went ahead with the plans anyway hoping against hope she’d back down before the time.  She agreed a week or so before the time to sign.  I was over the moon, my dream was once again back on track. 

I left school in the July / August holiday after having a chat with the vice principal at the time a Mr Lombard.  His nickname was “The Pig” and most of the kids were scared of him.  As it turned out we ended up having the most wonderful conversation!  He first asked if I was sure I wanted to leave, there might’ve been a possibility of my pregnancy not showing before the exams were due.  In actualy fact even at 6 months pregnant I hardly had a bump!  There was something driving me though to not continue school.  I was scared someone would trip me up or accidently bump me too hard and I didn’t want to take the chance of losing the baby I was carrying, I’d rather leave and not complete the year.  Mr Lombard wasn’t so worried about the fact that I was pregnant as much as would I be ok.  Did I have someone supporting me, etc.  He was so kind and gentle, something I’d never expected.  I enquired about writing my matric exams as I’d already paid the fees etc but was told it wouldn’t be allowed with being pregnant, not even if I wrote the exams at a police station, it was not allowed at the time.  Once pregnant you obviously weren’t considered to require an education. 

I found out the next year that if I hadn’t gotten married I would’ve been able to return to school, someone else did that the year after me, but because I had married that was the end of my education as far as the authorities were concerned.

We were assigned a small prefab house to live in and I went and cleaned the place from top to toe one day.  Theo had lent me his car but I was too young to have a driver’s licence.  I’d gone the back roads just in case there were speed cops around.  On my way back there they were on the back roads!  I was pulled over and given a R100 fine for being underage and not wearing a seatbelt.  He could’ve given a much bigger fine but had taken pity on me.  As it was I had no money having just left school.  I remember how scared I was to show Theo and ask him if he could pay it.

The day of the wedding arrived and I was nervous as heck.  I wore a navy blue dress with a white trim, white blazer and white shoes.  My brother gave me away.  I remember little of the service other than that I know I didn’t promise the usual things as done in a wedding ceremony but who cared I was now his wife.  A small reception was held at the bowls club, attended mainly by family and a few close friends.

We’d gotten a bed and a few cheap pieces of furniture to furnish our home and we moved in the day we got married.  Our wedding night.  I had always had a romantic vision in my head of what that night would be like as well as the months after.  They were as far from reality as I could’ve gotten!  We got home, made up the bed, I went and bathed, put on a sexy nighty etc and by the time I got back to the room he’d fallen asleep.

A routine was soon formed, he’d be up and off to work early, working all hours he could, stayed out as much as possible, wouldn’t come close to me physically at all, basically he shut me out.  If we went out together we had to go to the “Family Lounge” at the club as I was too young to go into the main bar areas.  He did not like me to show any displays of affection in public.  I was married, but I was lonely and unloved.  I spent a lot of time over at the caravan park visiting my family.  I got a cat and that got all the affection I was unable to lavish on my husband.  He bought me cookery books each week but every time I cooked something new he criticized what I’d done, his mother was a better cook.  Give him steak eggs and chips and he was happy.  I couldn’t handle the smell of meat cooking I just wanted to hurl!  I used to start the meat, and run in and out of the kitchen just to turn it over then run back out so I wouldn’t puke.  I got by on lettuce leaves and other vegetables, anything other than meat.  He’d get home and expect a cooked meal every night though and before sitting down to supper he’d do an inspection of the house to see what I’d done for the day, running his fingers over surfaces to make sure they were cleaned properly.  Where was the love!!??  Where was the caring and sharing I’d dreamt of?  Once the baby’s born thing’ll change… that’s what I told myself, once he saw what I beautiful baby I’d given him he would love me, appreciate me and accept me.

One afternoon on the way back from my family I tripped and fell.  Panic stations!  Had I hurt my baby, was it ok? I’d once had my fortune told and the person had said there was a possibility that I may lose one child.  Was this just playing on my mind?  Why was I always concerned?  All seemed ok though, baby was still moving. Forget about it.

A friend I had at the time Linda had had a little boy and hadn’t gotten married.  She was living at home and they were running out of space.  She gave all her baby clothes and decorations to me on the priviso she help me decorate the nursery.  She never got that chance.  A month after giving me the things she was killed in a motorbike accident.  I ended up doing the nursery on my own, no input from Theo.  He wasn’t interested in much about the baby, I kept him informed of the doctor’s visits, told him when I felt movement etc but he never came close or held and loved me as I’d dreamt a husband should.  My brother came over to visit one day and he showed more interest in my growing tummy, than my husband had to date!  He felt an elbow push right out and move from one side of my stomach to the other.  He was thrilled! 

Throughout the time we’d been married we made love maybe twice or three times at most.  There were many nights I cried myself to sleep.  Nights where he’s start touching and feeling me in his sleep, only to open his eyes and see it was me.  He’d then just stop and turn his back on me.  I was so desperate to feel loved and wanted!  I couldn’t wait for the birth of my baby, maybe if I was slim again he might want me.  If not at least I’d have my baby to hold and love.

I let him choose what names we would use hoping that would make him more interested, he chose Kevin.  He wouldn’t go as far as choosing a girl’s name because as far as he was concerned his family only had boys!  What if the one I was carrying wasn’t a boy!  Would he reject my baby as he had me? 

My baby was due to be born around 22nd February ’81.  I sweated all through December in the heat in the prefab house.  It was hot and uncomfortable especially when I was cooking.  I knitted and learnt how to crochet, anything to keep myself busy.  I slept late in the day time and then couldn’t sleep at night.  I was restless.  Early January of ’81 for the first time in months we ended up making love.  I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do as my tummy was so big and in the way but I was being loved!  It hadn’t happened in so long!  It was a bit uncomfortable but I didn’t want to complain.  Afterwards I went to the bathroom.  I was bleeding! 

My baby was still moving though so I quietly just got back into bed as Theo was already asleep.  The next day I phoned and made an appointment with my doctor.  It was embarrassing to tell him what had happened but I felt he needed to know.  He told me he was sure it was nothing, having sex should not have harmed my baby at all and sent me home to get some bed rest. I did.  I spent the next two days lying around.  By the end of the first day I knew there was something wrong but the doctor had said all would be ok.  Nothing was moving inside. 

I went back and he wrote a letter for me to see a specialist in Bethal, trying to console me I’m sure he said it was normal for babies to be quieter closer towards the end of the pregnancy and likely it was just resting.  I phoned Theo and told him he’d have to take me through.  He was not impressed at having to leave work.  He picked up his mother first so she could do some shopping and then came to get me.  There was very little discussion on the way through.  I kept wanting, wishing, hoping my baby was just “resting” and would move before we got there.  It didn’t.

The fear kept rising.  Please God not my baby! 

It was our turn to go in for a sonar.  I lay down, they smeared the gel on and the doctor proceeded to look on the screen, having a discussion with Theo on how  ultra sound worked.  He looked worried and then said.. “It looks like something is wrong…”  I started sobbing.  Theo told me to be quiet, the doctor asked me to calm myself so he could make sure, with my sobs my stomach was heaving and he couldn’t see properly what was going on.  My baby was dead I just knew it!  I wanted to scream, cry, pull my hair out and here was Theo having a cool, calm and collected conversation with the doctor about the mechanics of the fucking sonar machine!!  I could not believe what I had married!  How could anyone be so cold, so unemotional, not give a damn that he’d just been told his wife was carrying his dead baby!?

I don’t remember much of the next few hours.   I clearly remember though sitting in the back seat of the car tears streaming down my face, his mother was in the front with Theo.  She turned around to me and said “Ja you see it’s because you smoke the baby is dead”.  The bitch just accused me of killing my own child!  That within minutes of hearing it was dead.  I knew where his coldness came from now!

I know we were sent back to Kriel with the results of the sonar.  My doctor in turn referred me to a gynae, Dr Zinn in Witbank.  His daughter had been in the same year as me in high school.  That felt like years ago!  How could my life have changed so much in so short a space of time!  He explained what would have to happen next.  For me to have other children later in life and not have problems it was best if I could give natural birth.  I would have to go through labour knowing I’d have nothing at the end of it. 

I was booked into Witbank Hospital.  Because of the circumstances they did not want to put me with the other expectant mother and so put me in a room on my own on the far end of the maternity ward.  They hooked me up on a drip then Theo left to take his mother back through to Kriel.  He arrived back later with my mother and a few of his friends in tow.  I was sitting there in a daze.  Totally lost.  I didn’t want to feel, I couldn’t feel, the people were telling jokes and laughing and here I was breaking up inside.  All I wanted was for someone to love me and tell me it was ok, that they’d made a mistake and that my baby would live!  My mom did her best, bless her, but I wanted the father of my baby!  I did my best to put a smile on my face and pretend I was strong, pretend nothing was wrong, pretend my world hadn’t just fallen apart and the worst was yet ahead.

They left after visiting hours and I was all alone.  The drip they’d attached was to make me go into labour.. somewhere in the night between bits of exhausted sleep it started working.  The nurses would come in every now and then to see how I was doing.  The rest of the time I was on my own, in the dark, frightened, scared, in pain and grieving.  Because the room I was in hadn’t been used much there was no bell in it to summon staff so they’d left a hand held bell for me to ring if I needed anything.  I drifted between contractions, pain, sleep for hours.  I remember them doing an examination at one stage to see how far I had dialated but was told it wasn’t enough and would still be a while.. they left again. 

The next thing I remember is getting a tremendous urge to push!  It hurts so bad!!  I had lost all track of time and didn’t know if it was day or night or what.  I could see the bell on the bedside table but I couldn’t reach it because of the pain that was doubling me over!  All I know is that the next thing Theo was at my bedside.  He was here!!  Help me!  Please go and get someone this baby is coming!  He rushed out and brought a nurse who said it was impossible and it wasn’t that long since they’d checked and I was nowhere near dialated enough.  That’s what they thought!  I was pushing, straining, screaming.  Knowing the baby was coming out now and yet terrified it would because then it would confirm everything I’d been told.  It would be dead!

They examined me again and realised they had to act fast.  Luckily Dr Zinn was on the premises and it wasn’t long before they had me on a trolley and were wheeling me to the delivery room.  Theo stood to one side as they wheeled me off.  I couldn’t be alone now!  Please Theo come with I’m scared!  He came.  I’m not sure if it was emotion, exhaustion or what but I don’t remember much of the actual birth.  I remember them placing the baby between my legs, the head resting on my right thigh.  I was so scared, too scared to look, I wanted to hear him cry!  If he didn’t I wanted to think of him as a perfect angel, not as a dead baby.  I could see the reflection of him in the big light above, lying there, his hand lying quietly to one side.  I was told he was perfectly formed, nothing wrong but they’d be taking him away to do an autopsy to determine what had gone wrong.  Oh Father in heaven how could you let something like this happen??  How could you take away my baby!? 

That day and the next were a blur, people in and out, trying to cheer me up.  The long walking up and down the corridor, looking in at the nursery where all the new borns were lying in the cots.  One of the nurses saw me and gently asked me if I’d like to come in and see them.  I went in, just stood there and looked at all the beautiful babies, alive, pink, sleeping soundly.  She allowed me to hold one, a risk I’m sure she could have gotten into trouble for considering what I’d just gone through.  Walk again, up and down the corridor… I’d gotten to the other end where the mothers were all in a ward together, one of them called me in and we started chatting.  Just then it was feeding time and I could see the looks on their faces and the nurses asking silently if I was ok.  Once again I pretended… afterall I could not spend the rest of my life running away every time I saw a baby!  Half of my friends were pregnant and the sooner I got used to it the better.  How brave… how strong…. How cold… How broken… How unloved and unlovable….

Two days later on my eighteenth birthday I was discharged.  I was told just before leaving that they had decided the day before it was best to do the funeral before I got home.  My baby was already buried.  I was told later that Theo had cried at the graveside and that is was my mother who had put her arms around him, while his mother stood to one side.

I walked out with my husband, my mother, his mother and my brother.  I so did not want to leave!!  I was supposed to be walking out with a smile on my face and my arms full of love… instead I was alone… lost… I fell behind the others who were walking and talking.  How was I going to face my life ahead?  What was I going to do now?  Where would I find that love I so badly wanted.  Not my husband, now not my baby…  My brother stopped.  Waited for me and held my hand walking out…  Theo had not even noticed I wasn’t with them.

On the second day home Theo arrived at 12 o’clock to tell me that we were moving that day.  I rang my mother and she came over to help pack.  I tackled the lounge and kitchen and she asked me to leave the baby room to her.  I’d not plucked up the courage to go in there as yet.  By the next day I was in a new home, no nursery, no love, no baby, no one to talk to about my loss.  Life went on… A piece of me had died …. One week I was pregnant, excitedly waiting for the time of the birth, the next week it was as if nothing had happened.  In that week Theo came home with a piece of jewellery I’d seen and admired in Sterns when visiting a friend there.  It was a pair of diamond earings and a pendant.  The pendant had a flower in a gold oval, a diamond in the middle of the flower petals.  That pendant is still around my neck 24years later.  It has come to represent my lost one to me.

As I mentioned earlier half of my friends were pregnant at the same time so I was faced with babies from the day I got home.  I didn’t want to make them feel guilty for having healthy children, it wasn’t their fault.  I hid the feelings, the tears and the emotions deep inside. There was only one time I remember having to excuse myself, I went to the back and had a quiet cry.  In fact I heard a few months down the line that one “friend”, the one I’d trusted the most had told another she wouldn’t be surprised if I’d done something to lose the baby on purpose as I showed no emotion whatsoever.  If only they knew!

A few years later they had a programme on TV about the lost ones, infants that die in the womb.  By that time I was divorced, I had a daughter of 2 and a half and my son was 6 months old.  I sat there and flood gates just opened.  For the first time I mourned the loss of my baby son.  The one I never saw, the one that will always be a perfect angel to me.

On my birthday in 2002 and the anniversay of his 21st birthday my mother sent me a card.  Inside was a clipping she’d kept for over a year waiting for his 21st to give it to me.  My mother wrote the following:

Baby Wernars would have been 21 this year.  I know you must often wonder how he would have looked now.  Each year on the 8th Jan I say a prayer for you and baby and last year I found this poem and saved it till now.  It is beautiful isnt it. 
Love you Mum

It was written by a woman’s sister after she’d had a miscarriage.

Forget-me-not
We are the ones God chose to take
  We are the ones you could not awake.
We are the buds you see on a tree
  We are the ones whose spirit runs free

We are the bulbs you may plant in spring
  We are the sound when hear the birds sing
We are the ones that could not cry
  We are the ones He chose to die

Our tears are the tips of the morning dew
  We are the ones that you never knew
We are the rain that’s left on the grass
  The test for life we did not pass

We are the bees you hear hum
  We had no voice to call you Mum
We are the forest that fragrance the wood
  To be with you, if we only could

We are the sun, the clouds, the moon
  We are the blooms that went too soon
We are the stars that shine above
  We are the ones you could not love

Forget-me-nots that’s what we are
  We grown in your garden not very far
We are a heart broken in two
  We are the ones who belong to you

We are the ones you could not share
  We are the empty space you see there
So really you see us in every way
  Forget me not for every day

Lanette Lusk

So many years ago… a piece of me…

I sent her a letter back..

Dear Mum

I’ve just got back from the post box after dropping Clinton off at work, and was midstream cleaning the house.  The birthday card you sent me was waiting and even though early I decided to open it.

The words on the front of the card are beautiful and really touched me.  I know I’m often busy these days and don’t talk as much as I used to, one of the reasons being I’ve not been too proud of some of the things that have happened in my life lately, and the words on the card express the way I always want you to think of me.  I want you to know that I am just as proud to have you as my mother and grateful for all you have done and mean to me.  You are beautiful, not only on the outside but most importantly on the inside and everyone who comes into contact with you sees this radiating from you and are glad to have known you no matter how short the time.  I know I will never be able to be like you, but if I can only be half as good a mother, friend and person as you I will have come far.

I was almost in tears just reading the front and the inside, but when I saw what you’d put in the middle I had to put the card down for a bit to control myself.  Thank you so much for remembering, for feeling and being there for me and with me.  Yes, it’s 21 years this year and yes something I will never forget and to know that there is someone else that also remembers means more than I can say!  Watching the other two grow up and seeing how they’ve turned out with your help and guidance all the way, you’re right I often wonder how Baby Wernars would have looked and what he would have been like as an adult, with a Grandmother like you I believe he would have been as beautiful and special as my other two.

Mum please know I love you deeply and that I always measure my decisions and my life by the standards you’ve set.  I don’t always quite get there, as you’ve set one hell of an example but I will always try so that you say you’re as proud of me as I am of you!

All my love
Laurinda.

There are no coincidences in life… Today 1st of April 2005 I attended the funeral of Aimee Kate Lattimer.  The three month old baby girl born to Liz or Beth as some call her.  She is someone I’d shared my experiences with when she was getting over the loss of her baby Alistair. I shared the poem with her that my mother had sent to me.  Aimee-Kate is the third child she has lost in one way or another.  Her baby girl died peacefully in her sleep.  I worked with the baby’s  father Craig at my last place of employment for a time too and we’d spent time together chatting about the impending birth.  Afterwards he’d proudly shown off his photo’s to us all.  I got to see how a father can be excited about the impending birth of his child, how he can glow, bounce up and down in sheer excitement.  How he can strut around after the birth, so proud of his new child.

In a week where so many things in my life are falling into place I received the sms from Craig about the funeral.  Today I was there, to support them and to let them know that there are people who love and care about them and that they are not alone.

I sat through the funeral, the tiny casket in front.  I never got to attend the funeral of my own baby.  I cried , not just for their loss but for my own.  The song that broke those that were not already in tears… Thank you for Healing Me.  

While everyone was filing out I sat.  I did not want to leave, I sat looking at the casket in front.  My ex boss stood directly in front of me waiting to leave.  I could feel him looking.  This time I didn’t care who saw me cry!  I don’t have to pretend anymore!

To Craig and Liz, there are no coincidences in life, in time to come, you may find a reason, you may not, I can tell you, you will never forget!  Her memory will live with you forever. Today I was reminded of the fragility of human life, of love, of the love of a mother, of the loss of life of one so young… 

Today I finally laid to rest my own lost angel.  Thank you for healing me!

Taken from the hand out at the church door with a picture of their angel:

Where I have gone, I am not so small
My soul is as wide as the world is tall
I have gone to answer the call, the call
Of the One who takes care of us all.

Wherever you look,
You will find me there –
In the heart of a rose,
In the heart of a prayer.

On butterfly wings
On wings of my own
To you I’m gone,
But I’m never alone
I am over the moon,
I am home!