A Fathers Grief (written by Craig)

This poem was sent to me by a friend recently. She, in turn, had retrieved it from a forum where a thread had been started for me on Father's Day (which I only found out about when she emailed me!). If I had known about the thread earlier, I would have posted this earlier. The poem was posted by other babyloss parents:

It must be very difficult
To be a man in grief,
Since "men don't cry"
and "men are strong"
No tears can bring relief.

It must be very difficult
To stand up to the test,
And field the calls and visitors
So she can get some rest.

They always ask if she's all right
And what she's going through.
But seldom take his hand and ask,
"My friend, but how are you?"

He hears her crying in the night
And thinks his heart will break.
He dries her tears and comforts her,
But "stays strong" for her sake.

It must be very difficult
To start each day anew.
And try to be so very brave-
He lost his baby too.


It is so true. Very few people ask how I am going. Noone cares whether I am coping with my grief. All anyone ever asks me is how Mirne is going. Whether she is coping with her grief. It means a lot that the friend who sent this thinks of me as often as she thinks of Mirne. She asks after me regularly. She includes little messages for me in her emails to Mirne. But she is the only one. Mirne's family ask me how I'm going on a very infrequent basis. But, mostly, they ask after Mirne. Of course, she is their priority over me, and I understand that. My friends don't contact us. But that's okay.

My parents don't ring or email. They are "too sad" to call us. That was the excuse they gave us after Kees' 1st birthday, when we didn't hear from them. And that is the excuse they have used since. They have been "too sad" to even think of ringing us. They said that. But that's okay, now. I've decided that my parents aren't really going to be there for me any more. My mother asked me about 3 years ago how long she had to keep being my mother. My answer, which I didn't give to her, was that it was until the day she died. But, apparently, that is not the case for her. I should have realised then that they weren't going to be there for me any more, but I didn't. But now I do.

So, now we have friends who think of me as much as they think of Mirne. And those are the friends I need. And now I have my family - Mirne. And that is the family I need. I don't need anything else. So I am going try to be happy with what I have.