Letter to my Third Son

January 22, 2013 § 1 Comment

meir 006

It’s taken me six weeks to write this post. Since Robin was ill, life has been about healing. About him healing, physically, then about the rest of us healing, emotionally.

I give thanks for all the issues that have surfaced in the past few months, ready to be released and healed.

One of them was some feelings about the baby I lost, six years ago now. I hardly ever talk about him and I’ve rarely even mentioned his name. It feels such a personal experience that it is hard to talk about, even to acknowledge what occurred.

Meir Heartman; my third son.

He only lived for five months in my womb. However I felt him move within me, and knew his spirit. I gave birth to him as I have my five other children, feeling the high of birthing a baby and at the same time the raw hurt of grief.

Losing a child has been the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced. The birth was utterly heart-wrenching. My arms ached for my baby. My breasts leaked at the cry of another newborn. The sense of being ‘different’, marked by misfortune, was really strong and uncomfortable.

It’s true that life was tricky at the time I was pregnant with Meir. I don’t know how life would have been for our family had we had another baby at that particular time. It was a terrible price to pay to keep the harmony in my life and family.

‘Meir’ means ‘bringer of enlightenment’. For me, Meir brought with him the absolute knowing that every baby is so precious, and deserving of unconditional love. I never felt any guilt at the time, but in the past couple of years I feel I am doing Meir, and myself, a disservice in acting as though he didn’t exist, or change me.

My two eldest sons remember that time. On the day I went to hospital to birth Meir, William was at Kindy, where the hens laid just one egg. The teacher gave William the egg to hold all day to keep warm. That teacher also organised for all the mums of the class to make some meals for us. I’ll never forget that. And now my third child is going into her Kindy class – the cycle of life rolls on.


I’m so sorry that you couldn’t stay with us. XX

meir 009



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