Our beautiful baby daughter Anabelle was born sleeping June 2010.
Blessed with the screaming arrivals of our gorgeous rainbow sons,
Alexander October 2011, Zachary November 2013 and Lucas July 2016.

After Anabelle - Raising Rainbows
Heartbreak. Joy. Death. Life. But most of all Love.

Saturday, 8 October 2016

The Fifth - The Unspoken

I wasn't sure where to go with this.

I'm still not sure where to go with it.

Blogging for six years there isn't much that has been left unspoken.  I've always been open about our grief and the ongoing pain of Anabelle's absence from our lives. 

I've been open about her. In those very early days I shared some of our carefully selected photographs of her, even though it initially terrified me to do so. Terrified because I was scared they would offend someone, or that people wouldn't be very kind. 

Then I decided I didn't care who I offended. It hurt me more not to be able to share her. 

It still hurts me. I think that is why I'm a complete over-sharer of my boys. Frequent and regular photos shared of them on Instagram and Facebook. Because I can; they are here, alive, growing and that is so beautiful. I take many photographs every day, thousands upon thousands a year. Recording each moment that I can, because I can! All their photos feel like a little celebration. I'm so grateful that I can continue taking photos of them. 

We took around 70 photos of Anabelle. And those will never be enough. Never enough, but all we have. We've shared around 10 of her photos on my facebook albums. There are 2 photographs of her I've used regularly here and elsewhere too. But there are still many photographs of Anabelle that I haven't shared. And won't ever share. 

Because if I'm honest, they are too graphic and scary for public consumption. Her broken and battered skin, puffy and bleeding eyes. Nothing like newborn baby photos should look like. Even over the course of the twelve hours we kept her with us, taking photographs periodically from beginning to end, her deterioration after being exposed to the outside was evident. 

Her photos, her, she is so precious and beautiful to me but my fragile heart couldn't take any spiteful or unkind remarks from others or even thoughts about her. Because I know, I know from experience and comments early on in my blogging days that sometimes people just cannot even begin to try and understand. And so they don't. Not everyone can manage empathy. 

I wish we could've taken more. If we could go back now we would take more. Taken some differently. Captured so many more of her small details. But we were in daze, in shock. At least we had the foresight to take photos. Clicking away trying to get anything of her. But it was never going to be enough. 

Oh the benefit of hindsight and photography experience now.  

Tonight I've been crying as I've typed this. 

I've looked at some photos of Anabelle that I haven't looked at for such a long time. I wish she was alive and it hurts. 

I'm going to share a new one. I'm taking a deep breath as I do. You see, this is my most precious, favourite photo of all. My tiny baby girl sleeping on my chest.  Some select people will have already seen it once before. But today is about the unspoken. I'm choosing the unseen.

Please be kind. 

Normalising grief. Baring a little bit more of me.  

Capture Your Grief. Day 5. The Unspoken.




6 comments:

E said...

That's a beautiful picture. Mother love. It's utterly powerful and awe inspiring.

Sarita Boyette said...

Anabelle is beautiful and will always be beautiful. My Meredith's 42nd birthday just passed on the 3rd. I will always miss her. I have about 10 photos from her funeral. The doctor refused to let me hold her. I cherish everyone of those photos. I'm thankful for the memories you got to make with Belle and the photos you have. (((HUGS)))

Caz said...

Thank you Sarita. I feel so sad that you couldn't hold your baby girl and that years ago parents were treated so differently from today. I hope Meredith's birthday passed peacefully for you xx

Life, Loss and Little Things said...

Oh that photo is beautiful. Your darling girl. I haven't shared photos of N (other than her hands), for the same reasons you've mentioned. I couldn't take anyone saying anything unkind. I wish I'd known about NILMDTS and other organisations, I'm thinking about getting a portrait of her done, so I can put that up in our house - I feel like she's hidden away

Lulu said...

That is a beautiful picture. Thank you for sharing. It's hard to imagine who could see anything but beauty in it (and any other photos of your gorgeous daughter). Only very sad people with zero feelings would comment negatively on such precious pictures. I am a very long-time reader of your blog (and have often commented on your posts) and I would love to see your pictures, if you ever felt you wanted to share them. Anabelle is beautiful just the way she is, just for being her, and who she is to you and your family. Just like any other beloved child, like she is. You shouldn't have to feel like you have to hide her away and especially on your own space/blog. XX

Caz said...

Thank you Lulu, that is really kind xx

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After Anabelle - Raising Rainbows. I'm Caz, Mummy to beautiful angel Belle and my wonderful rainbow boys, Xander, Zachy and Luc. Wife to Jon. Twitter @cazem Instagram @cazzyem
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