This post deals with child loss and might be triggering for some readers.
Imagine I told you I no longer love my first-born child. Imagine if I said:
"I’m over him."
"I moved on."
"I have two other children to focus on."
You’d be shocked! Not only would I be labelled a bad mother, but a bad person.
Hold on though! Before you judge... let’s add another layer to the story. What if I told you, my first-born child died before he got to live? What if I said he was born silent and without breath?
Imagine the moment of birth. The midwife gently saying, "You’ve had a little boy." He’s placed on my chest, like most newborn babies. My husband and I soak him in. Admire his features. Wrap him up. Bestow his name - Xavier Rocket. Our son is here. But he’s also not. His little heartbeat still.
Watch: A tribute to the babies we've lost. Post continues below.
Now are you okay with me saying I no longer love him? I bet not!
Then why? Why are bereaved parents everywhere, asked to stop loving their babies who died?