In Loving Memory of Cash

Told by: Tiona

At 5am on Tuesday 5th February 2013 I gave birth to a baby boy at home. He was 20 weeks & 1 day gestational age and weighed a mere 340 grams. I held my son his whole life; 8 minutes.

I named my son Cash Alan.

I watched Cash as he struggled for life; it is an image that will forever haunt me. I shared his pain and fear but there was nothing I could do to save him.

An autopsy found that my premature labour was caused by an infection of the uterus and placenta due to low levels of amniotic fluid.

Cash was cremated on Thursday February 14th 2013. I keep his ashes with me in a small urn.

I have found some comfort in knowing that all Cash knew of Life was my love for him, but I will never truly come to terms with his death.

Prior to losing Cash, I spent over 15 years building a career as a publicist. I loved my field and felt passionate about everything I was doing. That all changed on 5th February 2013. I became someone else; none of the little stuff mattered anymore and my life felt meaningless.

I was at a crossroads, lost in my grief.

A few weeks after losing Cash I packed up and moved 1600 kilometres away for a fresh start. I knew I no longer wanted to be a publicist, the late nights and time away from home kept me away from my other children.

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BIRTH & BEREAVEMENT QUOTES

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She was a genius of sadness, immersing herself in it, separating its numerous strands, appreciating its subtle nuances. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into its infinite spectrum.

— Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.

— C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

I am strong.

— January, founder of Birth Without Fear

When someone you love dies, and you’re not expecting it, you don’t lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time—the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone. Just when the day comes—when there’s a particular missing part that overwhelms you with the feeling that she’s gone, forever—there comes another day, and another specifically missing part.

— John Irving, A Prayer for Owen Meany

They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite.

— Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince

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