The “Me” Before

She was telling a story. Remembering things from the past. Talking about how much fun I am. Talking about how I throw the best parties. Telling everyone that I’m such a good cook. Saying how she was so happy to be moving back to London because she and her husband really missed us. They missed us because we are such good friends and we are so much fun.

Who is she? She is a friend that I met when I first moved to London almost 8 years ago. She was friends with me before tragedy hit. She was friends with the old me, the “me” before. She moved away a month before my son died. In fact, she delayed her departure so she could attend my baby shower. That was the last time she saw me until a few weeks ago.

Who was she telling her stories to? She was sharing this information with some of my new friends. Friends who didn’t know the “me” before. As she was walking down memory lane, sharing stories about fun times and crazy moments I could see looks of wonder on the faces of my newer friends. I could tell that they didn’t recognize the “me” that was being described in the stories. In a way, neither did I. That person seems so far away now.

It’s been just over 2 and a half years since my precious baby boy died. A lot has happened since then. I have come out of the fog of early grief and despair. I have gone on to have my rainbow baby and know the joy of parenting a living child. I have slowly and deliberately carved out a new life for myself, a new normal.

I am no longer frozen in time. I no longer count each day without him. I no longer cry for hours every day. I suppose it’s fair to say that I have moved on with life. I have moved forward to a place where there is still some sadness, but there is also much joy.

But I am forever changed. You can’t go through something as devastating and soul destroying as losing a child and come out the other side the same person. It’s just not possible. Moments like this create permanent marks in our lives. There will never be a time when I go back to being that person. There will always be “The Me Before,” and “The Me After.”

I don’t think too much about the person I was before my son died and was born. I guess that’s because it’s been such a tough road to get to the person I am today. I’m still in the trenches trying to find my way to a happier place. So I rarely look back anymore.
But this week I caught a glimpse of the “me” before when I listened to her stories. And I really missed the woman I used to be. They way she talked about me made me remember just how full of life I was. How idealistic  and positive I was, even in the midst of an almost 8 year battle with infertility. I had a joy for life that I haven’t been able to recapture just yet.

It was quite an interesting evening. Sitting with a mix of old friends and new friends. Friends I knew on either side of the tragedy that was my son’s death. Two very different sides of the same person. I could see that my new friends did not entirely recognize the woman she was describing. The “me” before threw a lot of parties and cooked up a storm, the “me” after has much fewer parties and hardly ever cooks for her friends. The old me would never turn down a chance to socialize while the new me sometimes does.

It got me a bit nostalgic about the past. I know I can’t change anything. There will be no magical transformation back to that fun loving, much less complicated person. But maybe I could try and bring a bit of the fun back. Not just for them, but for me. There was a time when I loved having people over. There was a time when I loved cooking for friends. Perhaps I need to try and recapture that feeling.

Perhaps it’s time for me to invite some friends over for a BBQ sometime soon.

The author of Finding My New Normal blogs about her life, and her husband’s life, after the death of their son in the 36th week of pregnancy.  Having recently moved from the US to London, she shares her journey openly, including her plans to have another child.

Photo credit.


  1. Laura Hedgecock said on March 26, 2013 at 8:27 pm ... #

    Great post. I hope you do rediscover your fun side. Don’t rush yourself. It sounds like you’re doing great.

    Laura Hedgecock

  2. ks said on March 26, 2013 at 8:37 pm ... #

    I love this post…it’s sad, but honest, and I can relate. Both my dad and husband died last year. I know I will never be the same. I’m hopeful there will eventually be some positive changes that I make, coming out of my grief. And even in my sadness, I still find humor in things, but deep down there is still a dark pit in my heart. I miss the levity I once had. And I wonder if, and when, it will ever come back. Thank you for this lovely post, there is optimism in it…and hopefully a barbecue with friends to rekindle some of the old you.

  3. Faisal Rehman said on March 26, 2013 at 11:11 pm ... #

    It so relates to my loss when she says: But I am forever changed. You can’t go through something as devastating and soul destroying as losing a child and come out the other side the same person. It’s just not possible. Moments like this create permanent marks in our lives. There will never be a time when I go back to being that person. There will always be “The Me Before,” and “The Me After.”

    I dont think I would ever be the same again… Its just not right

  4. lallaloolly said on March 27, 2013 at 9:37 am ... #

    great article, and thanks for sharing your discovery and your optimism. i look forward to reading more of your work.

  5. Lisa Ratnavira said on April 7, 2013 at 2:56 pm ... #

    I really enjoyed the honesty and self awareness of this article. I wrote a poem this week that for the first time has some degree of acceptance of losing our daughter at age 22 last summer she was a Div 1 athlete and then got a headache and was gone 10 days later from a brain aneurysm. I still don’t recognize the woman who swears, who is angrier than I once dreamt possible, but still capable of gardens and baking and teaching other people’s daughters. I think maybe years from now I will have more of those moments, sometimes I feel I have turrets the stuff that comes out of my mouth…

    Ladybugs by Lisa Ratnavira

    eggs, larvae, pupae,
    ladybug ladybug fly away
    your house is on fire
    your children aren’t safe
    red and black are warning colors
    I love them
    my car is decorated with them
    my classroom and gardens
    are saturated with them
    what is life trying to show me
    what am I observing that I am
    supposed to see
    what I am watching that
    is awakening within me
    a realization that
    she has transformed
    she is free
    and it is me here
    still hovering with
    aphids and marigolds??? 4-3

  6. Elaine B said on May 16, 2013 at 4:49 am ... #

    I lost mmy father age 46 when i was 12 1/2. I am 57 now an still remember that day. I grew up, started think that all life, everything one oes ends badly. I dont really remember talking inividually about that death to my mum, who was trying to pay the bills and eventually moving us all away from friends and family and remarrying. within two years I lost a parent my friends and my gran.The very best thing anyone can do is to talk to your children or find an audlt to relate to them. Age 18 18 found my husband and he has helped me grow up as well as loved me. It makes you very dependant on one other person and has taken a toll on him. I go on and off anti depressants an often have little idea how to bring up my son who I spoilt badly- I think because my husband spoilt me. I may still have marrie him but would have marrie him aas an adult instead of a child.

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