Let’s start to when you get home from the hospital. Empty arms, broken heart yet life goes on. In the early days I would never had believed it did but it does somehow.
I remember the first few days coming home every time I would have flowers left at my doorstep. To those family and friends who sent them they had a nice thought and was assuming they were doing a nice gesture…they should have left it as the thought.
I appreciated every bunch of flowers I received and know the cost of delivery, from the bottom of my heart I am grateful for their kindness. But I gave birth to a beautiful boy, I didn’t plan to be mourning him in my lifetime. It may sound ironic but I would have liked people to congratulate me as only one midwife did from the first hospital I went too originally, after one week post partum to thank her. Some bereaved parents may have other ideas but for me a simple card would have been enough, not a bouquet of flowers that are going to eventually die as well.
Coming home from making prearrangements at the funeral home after day 3 of leaving the hospital, I am left to find yet another gorgeous array of flowers and a sympathy card (hence the title “Pity Flowers”). I feel like the gesture was more to make themselves feel better as it certainly didn’t make me feel good at all. I didn’t want pity after the loss of my son- I wanted acknowledge that I gave birth….because I did. Some people may have forgotten that part, yet it was the most special moment to why I have the everlasting love I do for my baby today.
I ended up donating the flowers to the palliative care ward in the hospital I worked at weeks later, so that those who were dying could appreciate the array from nearby. I’m thankful for those who sent kind messages only or one friend who brought food as cooking is the last thing on your mind for a while. Or for some they gave me a rose bush and plants which were still living and meant to be, that left a nice sentimental feeling when I admired them as time went on.
I don’t live on because of the pity from myself or others, I live for the love I have for my son that came into this world too soon, yet he could not stay. I didn’t plan for my son to pass and nor should others around me be providing me with sympathy.
Thinking of you