Before Melody died, there was never a lot of thought of just how such a tiny person could change every part of our lives.
Her death shook us to the very core. We were left confused; blinded by her loss. We couldn’t concentrate or focus on a lot other than surviving each day; trying to get an understanding of what had happened.
As the weeks moved forward our lives moved differently. We saw people in a different light and we met and spoke to people we never imagined meeting. We also lost people along the way too.
Our whole world changed, moved, crumbled…and stood completely still all at the same time.
We felt nothing but complete shock.
One thing I didn’t expect was how strongly I felt about not returning to the job I had known for 13 years.
Suddenly, I made the major decision to not return to it. I can’t even tell you when this entered my head or what triggered it.
I worked in the care industry I loved what I did, and then I didn’t.
In my fuzzy brain, I couldn’t see past helping others get better when our daughter had died.
So, I walked away from the one career I had ever known. I didn’t even know what I wanted to do; I couldn’t decide.
My husband was very supportive and at times I felt very guilty for being able to walk away from this when he had to carry on.
It was the one thing I felt I had control with at the time.
The loss of our daughter, then the slow flow of secondary losses which followed; I had very little control over anything.
I felt empowered by walking away from being a caregiver. I worked from home on odd freelance work-things where I didn’t really have to communicate with other people too much.
I had more time for my other children; losing Melody only made it more obvious on just how short life can be.
Related Link: Secondary Losses- How Long Is Your List?
For a short while, I was tempted to return. I wasn’t sure if I could even do anything else.
Now there isn’t a single day where I regret leaving the care industry. I now work in a school; somewhere I never imagined working, about to further this new path and I love every single minute of it.
I believe that she was the push to make me believe I was more than what I had settled for.
It wasn’t just a job and career I had changed. We moved into a new home when I was about 10 weeks pregnant with Melody.
It was our new home after getting married; our fresh start. But then I became sick, suffering from Hyperemesis which left me feeling like a prisoner in our home.
I began to dislike the place and knew that it would be all okay after the pregnancy was done.
Then she died. We couldn’t live there anymore, but we had to stay there another year. Now, I can’t bear to think of it.
The doors…the layout. Thinking about it makes me feel physically sick. It is a job to look at photos of our memories there because it just hurts so much.
She didn’t die there, but it will always be associated with everything that ever went wrong. My mind has completely shut off this part of our life.
Related Link: The Room That Was Supposed To Be A Nursery
We have a home we love now.
Child loss changes your perspective on life in general.
Photo Credit: Canva
I live in the UK, Mum to five children, one of whom could only stay for five weeks. Since her death, I have found a passion through writing to make sure nobody feels as alone as we did. I’m open and honest, that helps me to release the love I have for a girl who couldn’t stay.
