Monday, 4 April 2011


One of the least attractive facets of grief is anger.
I am consumed by the total, gut-boiling fury that this has happened. That this is now part of the fabric of our lives.
I am angry that people can stand outside my hotel room and sing with joy, unburdened by the knowledge of the sadness lying on the bed upstairs.
I'm annoyed at people I don't even know. Families who relish in their happy children. Couples who coo over their newborns. Dad's picking their little ones up from ski school.
The whole thing, the whole indignity of these feelings, it makes me mad.
I could find a reason to scream at every single person I know. And it takes a mammoth amount of will to keep my lid closed.
I do not want to be here. I do not want to be this mean-minded, envious, grumpy, broken person. I want to be the old me. The one who was always up for a laugh. Who knew how to share a joke and would quite happily waste as much time as humanely possible just having fun. I want to be the me, who (I hope) everyone enjoyed being around.


  1. It's all so unfair, it's only reasonable to be angry.

  2. I don't think you will ever be the same as you were before... I know I definitely won't be. I went through a month or so of extreme rage... triggered by visiting the maternity unit to collect something and seeing two heavily pregnant women smoking outside and moaning that the nurses wouldn't give them their methadone on time. I try very hard usually not to be judgemental, but that day... well, I managed not to turn into a raging harpy on the spot but for a month after, just about everything set me off. And you will either find the strength, or you won't. I'm betting you will, but if you can't you have nothing to be ashamed of. Grief can't be measured or timed by other people's (well-intentioned) judgements. Keep on keeping on x

  3. Dear Alice
    Your Times article has moved me to tears and brought back memories of the loss of my first born son 42 years ago. He lived for 10 days but we were unable to (and in fact not encouraged to) bond with him. Times have changed and I'm glad you were able to hold your precious baby. You will never forget him but I hope that in time you will go on to have more children. My three lovely children all knew from quite a young age about their older brother and I know have three gorgeous grand-children.
    With love x

  4. Dear Alice and Toby, you have a beautiful baby boy Bear, he will be very proud of his Mum and Dad. Alice, one of my dear friends sent me your article in The Times on April 16 2011, my heart is with you both. Sadly we lost our first born our beautiful baby girl Amy at 41 weeks on 14th April 2006. 5 years on I feel I am now ready to get involved with Sands and will be attending my first parent meeting on 28th April, just felt I had to post a comment to you from one Mum to another. Much love Angela x

  5. I lost my baby girl in 1992 at 38 weeks and it is still very raw. Nothing can describe how you feel at the point you are told the devastating news - I will never forget and still feel very angry that there was no explanation found or given. Life moves on and I went on to have a wonderful boy who I love dearly. You never forget though.