Saying Goodbye

On Saturday I went to a Saying Goodbye remembrance service at St Mary's Cathedral in Edinburgh.  These services are taking place across the country, for people who have lost a baby at any stage of pregnancy or in infancy.

"The services will provide an opportunity to join with others who have experienced a loss, and together we will say: our children did exist, and they may have only been on this earth for days, weeks or months, but they were truly loved, and will always be missed!"

The cathedral provided a truly magnificent backdrop for such a service.  The grandeur of this ornate building reflected the beauty and the significance of the occasion.  

St Mary's Cathedral, Edinburgh

We were there to remember our lost babies. 

I was there to remember my beloved daughter, Daisy.

I wasn't sure what to expect; having been to only a handful of religious services in my life, I didn't know what would happen or how I would feel.  I was scared that the service would be heartbreaking.  I was worried that I would feel overwhelmed.

The service was beautiful. 

Music and singing filled the cathedral.  The sound of handbells resonated; each chime representing a life lost too soon.  I rang my bell twice; once for Daisy, and once for my friend's baby, Catriona. 

I lit a candle for Daisy.  I watched the light flickering and dancing during the service, amongst rows and rows of candles burning, representing all of our babies.

It was a time for reflection.  I thought of my family, my life, my hopes and dreams for the future.

And I felt comforted.

I am not alone.

Families and couples and individuals, sitting together in the grandest of buildings, each remembering a precious life taken from us.  We were united in our loss.

A common understanding between strangers. 

I felt uplifted.  I felt supported.  I remembered Daisy in a bittersweet way - not with sadness.

At times, losing Daisy feels like a stone weighing down my heart.  After the Saying Goodbye service, my heart felt a little lighter. 

Daisy will never be forgotten; the journey of grief is long and at times the pain is more than I can bear.  But having the opportunity to stand with others who have experienced the anguish of losing a baby, to look into their eyes and see understanding and compassion reflected there, reminded me that I am not alone.