The Lonely Bus

Much of my grief journey has made me feel isolated, mainly because I feel different and also because people just don’t know what to say after a loss so terrible.

One place I have found solace is in the loss community, after all we have that much unwanted and much understood bond. I feel safe around these ladies and I can speak honestly and in safety. 

But, as ever the world still turns and new ‘rainbow’ pregnancies are announced (thankfully always in a gentle way with an apology and a sense of sorrow). I’m so happy for my friends, especially those with no living children. Everyone deserves happiness and a chance to move forward with new life in their arms and their angel in their hearts.

Every announcement though adds to my sense of isolation of otherness. We will never have another baby, not unless someone loans us their womb which is unlikely. 

It feels like a strange bus journey. When I lost Rory I joined a bus full of grieving parents, I hovered downstairs pretending I didn’t really need to be there and then I was pregnant again so edged closer to the door but then Henry died and I was catapulted right to the back of the top deck. Ladies have joined the bus and we have shared the journey but then they fall pregnant and move to the lower deck and when their baby arrives they get off ready to take another journey. Most days it feels like I’m sitting in this bus watching people come and go and I’m trapped, never able to get off the bloody thing all the while my safe circle of friends is getting smaller and smaller.

People assume everyone will get their rainbow and their happy ending, possibly as the alternative is too horrible to contemplate. The reality is that not everyone does get a happy ending – Mums like us aren’t talked about much, we aren’t celebrated and we feel forgotten, isolated and alone.


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