Why my lost babies matter. 


These are the dates of my lost babies births. 

I have spoken previously about my miscarriages-I personally think so much stigma is still attached to people who’ve lost babies, and I know how much it helps me to read others stories and to know I’m not alone. So, in the hope someone out there reads mine and feels less alone, I speak confidently about my experiences too. 

Recently I’ve had or seen conversations with people, where the underlying context seems to be, babies born to miscarriage, aren’t babies. 

“Surely it’s easier to get over when it’s not even a proper baby?!”

“How can you still be grieving now you’ve had another baby?!”

I’d like to say, here and now, that, in actual fact, grieving for my babies is still ongoing. Daily I think of them and what I could’ve had. 

They were my babies. Three little lives that registered on a pregnancy test. A growing human inside my womb, that changed the levels of my hormones enough to change a pregnancy test. A new person, that I believed (each time) would sit in there for 9 months, cooking away nicely, ready to come and meet me and his/her daddy and big brother. 

As for the grieving stopping now I’ve got my little girl? How can you not grieve for someone you’ve lost? How can you write it off as something that happened but you got what you wanted in the end anyway? Do those tiny babies not matter now you’ve got the baby you tried so hard for?!


I grieve for the lives I’ll never get to see. 

For the previous bundles I’ll never hold. 

For the futures I won’t get to witness. 

For the birthdays I won’t get to celebrate. 

For my children. My three lost children that make me, along with their big brother and little sister, a mummy of 5. 


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