What happened that night to make her pick up her baby, wrap her in blankets and calmly walk off the ward and out of the hospital?

Was there a trigger?

Or had it been a slow but relentless building of pressure until she felt like she couldn’t take it anymore?

Did she think her daughter would be taken away from her?

Why did she take her baby with her?

Would she have ever left her behind?

Did she set out knowing what she would do or did she end up there somehow, feeling as though she had had no other choice?

Did her baby cry?

Did she cry?

I can’t stop thinking about them.

Standing up there in the freezing dark, all alone.

Was her baby cold or was she snuggled up to her Mummy, warm in her brightly coloured blankets?

Did the baby feel safe because she was with her Mummy?

Did she talk to her baby?

Sing to her?

Hold her close and tell her that everything would be alright?

That she loved her?

On the day she was born did she look down at her and make plans for their life together?

Or was she already walking along the path to tragedy?

Did the baby sleep, unaware of anything that was happening?

Please let that be true.

Please let her short life have known only love and comfort.

Did she wonder if anyone would miss them?

Did she think that no one loved or cared about them?

What went through that poor woman’s mind?

Did she look down and wonder what it was like to die?

Did she jump or did she fall or slip?

Did she change her mind?

Did she hold her baby right until the end?

Did she think that she would never let go?

That she would never have to let go of her again?

They weren’t found together and this makes my heart ache. Did their lives end separately or did the force and trauma fling them apart?

Did she know?

Did the baby?

Is she at peace?

Please let them be at peace.

Her poor Mum, losing her daughter and her granddaughter on the same day.

How could I even have considered putting my Mum through that?

It could have been my family and my husband on the television begging me to come home.

I know I’m rambling but my heart breaks for them.

My eyes keep filling with tears and I can’t stop them.

It isn’t my grief. I have no idea what she went through, what her family are going through.

I can’t think about them anymore.

I can’t stop.

Even when I was at my lowest point I didn’t want to die. I just didn’t see any other options other than continuing to live in a world of pain, mental and physical where I could find no relief.

I don’t think anyone wants to die; I think they can’t imagine a life, an existence where every waking moment isn’t spent in unbearable pain and they can’t see how they can carry on.

They can’t see a way out.

Is that what happened to her?

I don’t think I believe in God but if there is anyone or anything up there with even a modicum of mercy put aside my non-belief and let them be free of pain.

Let them be at peace.


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