Irish Daily Mail - YOU

WE NEVER GOT TO KNOW YOU, BUT YOU ARE BEYOND LOVED

A grandmothe­r’s heartbreak­ing tribute to the granddaugh­ter who was taken too early – but who will always remain a beloved part of the family

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She was tiny and petite, exquisite and perfect. She was so beautiful. An álainn ar fad... very beautiful indeed. I could see her mum’s eyes, her dad’s, her long elegant fingers. She took my breath away.

She arrived too early so this little girl was in that horribly named ‘nonviable’ category. With the most savage cruelty, the universe was instructin­g her distraught Mum and Dad to say goodbye to her from the moment they said hello.

I watched, knowing the pink woolly-hooded little jacket which delicately dressed her was never going to fulfil its function of keeping her warm.

That first time looking into her hospital crib, the powerlessn­ess overwhelme­d me. A tsunami of emotions flooded me. Screaming panic, bereft isolation, confusion and bewilderme­nt.

I had a ferocious need to protect her parents, knowing instantly that it is, of course, futile. Then there was the need to sob, convulse, away from everyone, in a quiet place. Maybe that would take the pain away? It didn’t. It just caused exhaustion.

They had started calling her by her name before this day. They had chosen Orla, ‘golden princess’.

There were so many strange experience­s from those strange days. Nothing was right, nothing made sense. Today, we might be able to ask the pertinent questions.

On the grounds of the hospital, the lonely little Chapel of Rest stands in pastel, restful shades. Is that long walk to get there really that long or was it our grief that slowed us and weighed us down?

This was a second trimester bereavemen­t – the Early Pregnancy Loss section carries the full story in its name. Pain and heartache intertwine­d saturate it. The gaunt faces of mums emerge, dulled and numbed from shock. Dads also, looking awkward and unsure. Dreams have been shattered.

There are images that will never be erased. Orla’s dad being so brave and stoic, but I know him, my son, and he is crumbling inside. Orla’s mum, looking at her baby with such pride and such pain. Her heart is breaking into a thousand little pieces as we watch and witness.

The granddad leaning on the iron

railings outside the mortuary, drained and running on empty, but still holding on to support and keep it together for his beloved daughter. The other granddad at the bottom of the beautiful garden, ashen pallor, face in his hands, trying to find strength from somewhere to keep going for his beloved son.

Orla’s granny, my counterpar­t, strong and selflessly determined to do all in her power to comfort her girl, knowing it’s not possible.

The uncles, three grown men, tall and proud, with tear-stained faces. A grand-uncle who went through this many, many years ago and who is reliving it all, looking on. Then there is the kindness of strangers, the bereavemen­t midwife and the chaplain who would do anything for you. The sensitive priest who celebrated the Mass of the Angels for us. The sacristan who prepared

‘IT’S NOT RIGHT, IT’S NOT THE CORRECT ORDER OF THINGS’

the little country church which gave us such privacy. The workmen on the road who stopped and fell silent as our little girl was tenderly carried by her dad in a little white coffin and brought into the house of God.

All are so kind, all are so sad.

It’s not right. It’s not the correct order of things.

There is not a single word or sentence that will make this easy. It will always sear our hearts. Why did this happen? What God could be so cruel? Why snatch her away from us before we even got to hold her? Is féidir leis an saol a bheith an-chrua uaireanta – life can be very cruel sometimes. In my dreams she is full of life and vibrancy. Always running, always chuckling. Still petite, exquisite and perfect. But out of my reach.

She has come into our lives and we love her with a love that will not end. A tiny little girl who packed an enormous punch. Know how much you are loved Orla, know how strong your place is in our family. To the moon and back a thousand times baby girl, we love you and we will always love you.

For informatio­n or support, contact Féileacáin on feileacain.ie

 ?? ?? WORDS: MAJELLA SHEEHAN
WORDS: MAJELLA SHEEHAN

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