Say their name

Liam, your Daddy and I and our immediate family and friends say your name with ease in conversations. We talk about what we think you would have looked like now. We discuss how we think Caden would have reacted if you had done this action or made certain types of sounds. We include your name on cards we send out and receive. We actively find ways to include you in your home, the home we wish we didn’t have to try to find ways to include you in because in a perfect world you would be in it now.

Liam, I really do thank the person who once sighed in a state of utter relaxation when I mentioned your name after speaking to them for just on an hour about pointless topics to ‘fill the quiet’. I was speaking to several people at the time at a social gathering. We hadn’t seen these people since Christmas and the last time they saw your Daddy and I, I was around 20 weeks pregnant with you. They all knew you were born. They all knew you had died. However, for an hour we discussed the usual topics of weather, the people we were there to celebrate, the fashion and drink choices for the night. In that hour not a single person asked how we were doing. No one asked what had happened to cause your early birth and then death. It was only when I brought up in conversation that a certain colour someone was wearing reminded me of the duck blanket you were wrapped in, in your NICU crib and how it now lay next to you folded up in your bassinet that she was brutally honest and let out a huge sigh of relief and said, ‘oh I am so glad you brought it up I didn’t want to upset you by mentioning his name or asking any questions.’ I wanted to cry and hug her all at the same time for being so honest. Knowing that people were so scared of mentioning your name Liam, in fear that it would upset us allowed me then every day after to reiterate in every social setting that mentioning your name to me Liam, doesn’t remind me that you died, oh sweet boy there is not a second of any day that I can forget that. Hearing people say your name Liam, lets me know that someone else other than your Daddy and myself remember that you lived. Saying your name in conversations Liam, allows me to feel like a mother to two boys, like I am, rather than just the one people can see.

It was after this night that I was also determined more than ever to continue to share my grief journey. In hope that it would play some part in normalising conversations about death. For the rather selfless reason that I want to be able to talk about the death of you Liam, a baby, as easily as society does a senior. Since your death Liam, I seem to really focus on and listen to conversations surrounding death. I know that seems morbid but in fact it is not. Grieving someone is just a different word for love. It is having so much love inside of you without anywhere to go anymore; and as a person and as a mother, finding some way to express it without a kiss, cuddle, touch or conversation. Recently I have heard two different types of conversations after death that show the difference, not always but sadly majority of the time. To not bore you I have reduced them a little.

Over lunch last week at the table behind us: ‘Did you hear Mabel died a few weeks back, in her bed after a bout of pneumonia. Lovely lady…loved a game of Black Jack, favourite food was pineapple as she grew up on that small Island in Hawaii before moving to Australia. I will miss her sponges she added something extra to her cream, she never let that secret out you know.’

A baby named Liam died several months ago in his sleep too. Blonde hair…liked to wriggle out of his nappy so his NICU nurses would have to come and fix it up and talk to him. He had the longest fingers and toes that we had hoped he would grow into. So I was upset, but I am no longer surprised, when out at dinner the next night and on our table I started a conversation with ‘After Liam’s death I…’ and was then interrupted, albeit politely, with ‘oh sorry should we look at the menus they probably need our order.’ Liam, I just want to be able to talk about you, talk about this shitty situation and talk about both my children without fear of making others uncomfortable.

An elderly adult dies and it is talked about with sadness but not avoided. Liam, if a baby dies, like you did, most people do not want to listen to it or talk about it. Grief is not acknowledged like love is. When the subject comes up I can feel people looking for a way to change the topic or avoid it and us completely. When I mention your name Liam or try to bring up memories of that one precious week we spent together, sometimes yes, it does make me cry but that is no reason to avoid it. I want everyone to know not hearing your name Liam or being able to say it freely within a conversation hurts us more. Imagine never being able to talk about one of your children again. For most this is only something to imagine. For us sweet Liam, it is our reality. Every day we must make the decision when talking to other parents in the park, a colleague at work or an acquaintance not in our ‘safe circle.’ Do we bring up your name and our circumstance in fear of losing the opportunity to be spoken to in a ‘normal’ manner or do we speak your name proudly and openly reveal our circumstance and lose the opportunity for conversation, friendship and an ear that will listen to just how beautiful our youngest son is.

Liam, hearing your name some days does bring tears to my eyes but that is only because a love so strong will bring with it grief to match. The tears are a trade-off I am willing to make for a lifetime of hearing your name spoken. A lifetime of seeing your name written on birthday cards that those caring enough take the time to send, will be read to you and cherished each and every birthday, until my eyes no longer see or my voice no longer speaks. Liam, there are so many things I am now starting to do, little goals I am starting to achieve to ensure your name is not only known, spoken or seen in our little family but by many others. That your footprint is left in many places, creating change for the better wherever it steps. Liam, as your mother I couldn’t protect you, I couldn’t save you. Liam, as your mother I can protect your memory. I will protect your memory. I will make you proud. Your name will be the last I speak in this life and I hope, above everything else, the first I say in the next.

Love Mummy