Thursday, April 26, 2012

In memory of ~ Triton ~

Yesterday was busy. Another crazy, busy day.

This morning after my children went off with their dad to preschool, I made myself breakfast and sat down to enjoy a hot cup of tea, warm toast and catch up on a little bit of television. At the same time I log on my phone to facebook to see what has been happening overnight.

Yesterday a lovely person whom I have come to admire, shared Yasminah's Gift Of Hope with the world. Upon reading the post I was brought to tears. I literally sat there and cried. Not because of sadness but because someone whom I hardly know took a moment from her day to say my daughter's name and share with the world what we do at Yasminah's Gift Of Hope. I felt proud. I missed Yasminah. I cried. I have poured my heart and soul into the website, and majority of it I have written myself, from what I wanted when I lost Yasminah. Things I hoped would help another during their times of grief. Someone thought that my story was worth sharing. My daughter was worth remembering.

I wanted to write her a long message, thanking her, telling her how much it meant to me. I'm sure she already knew, but I wanted her to know.

But then the doorbell sang and I closed my laptop.

As I opened the door, it was my friend. She had left her family to come and help me today with Yasminah's Gift Of Hope Auction. My friend knew that Yasminah's Gift Of Hope had been mentioned as one of the 10 websites Baby Loss Parents should visit for grief support and healing. She understood as I wiped away my tears. Knowing I just seen the post.

I really wanted to reply.

I wanted to send Devan a message.

I did, but I should of said more.

I went about the rest of my day.

Later that evening when all the children were tucked up in bed and I had finished cleaning up the kitchen. Wiping down the girls high chairs. I sat down and wrote her another brief message, thanking Devan for her support and I mentioned her son's name. Triton.

Triton was born sleeping 4 years ago on the 24th April.

What a special little soul. A child who was loved, wanted and is missed beyond words.

Struggling to keep my eyes open. There was still so much more I could do. However being sick for the last couple of weeks, I knew I should get some rest. I went to bed at 1:30am.

Then back to this morning. Reading. I read the most heartbreaking post, screaming for support, that literally made my chest hurt, my heart ache. And I felt awful that on a day when I should of stopped and took some time to see how my friend was doing. I didn't.

We all want to share our children's life. We want to scream that they were born, they are still a part of our family. Yesterday some comments were left on Devan's post, not remembering her son's Triston's life, but suggesting 'other' places that she 'should' of shared. If those people had took the time to read the post correctly - they would of read that Devan was sharing websites that had helped her during her grief. We all know there are thousands of sites out there offering support, but on this day, Devan wanted to share what had helped her the most.

So now I'm crying again. Because I know the pain that Devan is feeling. I have recently felt like this. After everything that I have created and done in my daughter's memory, I still feel alone. Very alone. Grief is so lonely. You want to connect to others who understand your pain, your suffering, the ache deep in your heart to hold the child that once grew inside of your body. The child that you nurtured, you loved, you adored. The hopes and dreams that you had for that child. But instead you are alone. You can't hold that child. You are left wondering what they would be like today. What they would look like. You are left wondering if you are the only one who remembers, and understands that today is their birth day.

My point in my writing this is, is tell you to STOP. Take a moment out of your day, out of your life TODAY. To remember the life of a child who means so much to person that you care about. Today, go and mention your niece, nephew, cousin's daughter's son, or your friend's child's name. Call your friend if you can, or visit them and give them a hug. Take some time out to mention their child's name.

"The mention of my child's name may bring tears to my eyes, but it never fails to bring music to my ears. If you are really my friend, let me hear the beautiful music of his name. It soothes my broken heart and sings to my soul."
Author unknown


  1. thank you - from the bottom of my heart. xxo

  2. What a strange world we live in that holds us from acknowledging a lost child's name. It deeply saddens me that, to the outside world, a little life lost so early becomes a 'glitch' in the journey of life rather than a valid member of that family. Grief is lonely experience because it is so profoundly personal, but reading posts like yours helps to make it less isolating and scary. Thank you so much for sharing and for understanding. Your website deserves its place in the top ten most useful :-)