So something really bad happened today, and I need to talk t it in the hope it will get it out of my system. In the grand scheme of things, I suppose it’s not so bad, I’m here, I’m healthy (sort of, just  don’t ask about the state of upstairs), I’m safe and I have a clear conscience. I’m shocked that I even have to tell the story I am about to tell, but the world is full of people with not so good intentions apparently.

I received a message late on Friday night from a bereaved mum. She said her son had just passed away. She wanted a memory box.  Obviously I offered our services. She wanted to know everything that went into the box. I asked how long ago her son died, as some of the items we put in boxes are only of use when the baby is still with parents, and of no use sadly once the baby has been laid to rest. She said she had her son for one week to make memories before he was being laid to rest. At this point I recognised the urgency of getting a box to her as we all know that memory making and time is precious in these situations. I told her I would post a box first thing Monday. I offered to send it to her local hospital or the funeral directors so as not to trouble her at a time when she wouldn’t be thinking straight. The professionals would know how to get these touches just perfect for her. She said she wanted the
boxes sent to her address, she would only say her son was at a place of rest for a week, would not name a funeral directors or hospital she went to. I became very concerned for her at one point, asking her had nobody been doing any memory making at all for her? From a charity work point of view I was wondering what hospital and area was providing so little aftercare and support. She said she had been given photos, clothes and a blanket. By now it was Saturday and I was en route to Worcester for the Butterfly Awards. I explained all this to her and said it was my  top priority for Monday morning. She then asked for two boxes. She said she didn’t live with the baby’s father and they wanted one each. Her messages were emotionless, abrupt and direct, all questions about how
much stuff was going to be sent. This did set a little alarm bell ringing in my head, as it is the first time I have had such a request, but I said it wouldn’t be a problem. Even though I had a gut feeling all was not 100% as it seemed I thought of all the times I tell people that everyone grieves differently, never to be judgemental in these situations, and certainly not to refuse someone help because they cannot articulate themselves in a way others can. She then began to ask where I was going, and sent dozens of questions about the event. Could I get more stuff there to send her? Could she have two casting kits from someone? We don’t provide these but I said I would certainly ask around and see if I could source them. She sent message after message asking had I sorted it all
that night and the next day. First thing on Monday I had to take my toddler to labour ward to be very generously gifted two casting sets from Harry and co. I then trekked with him to the storage facility (which he calls the angel baby office) and made up two boxes, then dropped him at pre school. Then I wrapped everything carefully and sent it before collecting the kids. In this time she messaged constantly asking about the contents of the box, colour schemes of items in it, and had I posted it yet.

The next morning she asked for a third box for a grandma. At this point I really began to hear alarm bells, and I felt physically sick. I knew I had to find out more but I wouldn’t dare challenge a grieving parent because no matter how I feel inside, if they are genuine I would not want to compound how terrible they are feeling. So I asked other charities if they had recently been contacted by her, and the responses made my heart sink to the pit of my stomach. She does have a son, and he did die, but some time ago. The story of him being somewhere awaiting my memory making items was a total sham. I had expected her to be an out and out fake. The fact that she has actually lost a child makes me even more upset in some ways, as I said to my family today, nomatter what I was going through I would sell the shirt on my back to provide
something that would bring comfort to another grieving family. I would feel far too much guilt taking more than what I felt I was entitled to. The fact she readily wanted three boxes for herself (so far, I have no idea how long she would have strung me along for...maybe the next door neighbour’s dog would have wanted a box by the end of it!) without a thought that these resources are limited, and provided by families that themselves have lost a child and are going cap in hand to their family and friends, it speaks volumes about her character, bereaved or not. Just because you have suffered a loss it does not make you perfect, or a good person. I know because I’m far from!

At that moment this morning when I thought about the previous day, that I dragged my 3 year old child all over town to places he doesn’t really belong to sort something for her, something I deemed of upmost
importance, more important than me spending time with my child, time that I will never get back. Yes it is only a morning, but I thought this woman had less than seven days and that was my priority at the time, I was sick with worry that she would not get every second of memory making with her baby because I was not fast enough, I even sent the parcel next day to be signed for. At that moment this morning I was broken. Properly broken. This year has been the hardest year of my life, not many people know beyond professional Gemma, but real Gemma has been hanging on by her fingertips for months, all the time thinking as long as nothing else goes wrong I might be able to cope. And
then something else has gone wrong. And I don’t mean my nail broke wrong, I mean too many hospital visits wrong, too many funerals wrong, spinning too many plates and stretching myself to the point of breaking wrong, not little stuff. I’m never joking when I say I hate 2016. I stressed over this issue all weekend, I didn’t fully enjoy the awards as I should have been able, and when I realised it was all a lie it was a bit more than I could take. The fact she is a babyloss parent, well that just broke my heart a little bit more.

We have had people pretend to have lost a child in the Babyloss
community before. This heartbreak is not new. I will never ever be able to understand why someone would pretend to have been through something so horrific, I don’t think any of us will, but it has happened. This is the first time though, that I have been duped into sending things, stuff that I run marathons and mud runs for, that people donate to, my kids get involved in events for. This guilt of knowing that money has now been used to feed someone’s...quite frankly, mental illness....is really upsetting.

I have cried and screamed and shouted all day. Having to explain to my children at hometime why I was red faced from crying (and sporadically crying again) was not the one. Nor was explaining to Dexter’s teachers so they don’t think I have lost the plot completely by dropping him off in sunglasses and tears as it is lashing outside. My brain won’t work
properly because I don’t like thinking about how foolish I have been. My only scrap of solace to hold onto is the fact if I had trusted my gut and hesitated, and she really was a parent with less than a week with her child I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself, knowing I had not given her time and tools to make memories. I am in a better position having been taken for a fool with the best of intentions, than refusing to be and depriving a parent. It is now her that has deprived two parents of vital memory making resources, and I’ll never know why. The sad thing is I would have sent her a box regardless, she didn’t have to lie about still having her son. At Life After Loss we won’t refuse you a box because you found out about us too late, we would never do that and have sent boxes to parents that lost their children some time ago. We only ask questions so we can not include items that are useless, like hand and footprint kits, baby jewellery, pair of teddies so baby can be laid to rest. Sometimes it is too hard for a parent to get everything and see the potential missed opportunities.

The story doesn’t end there, but it quickly made me angry rather than sad. I asked had she received the boxes and she said she had. I
asked how many days she still had to make memories with her son before his funeral. She then said he has had a funeral. I asked why she said she had a week with her son then. I sent her copies of the messages asking her to explain. Then it all unravelled very quickly for her. Her excuses ranged from no I never said that, I got confused, this is for my friends baby that died, my baby will be dead within a week he is still alive, then she offered to post them back then she refused and said she would make a donation, then she changed her mind again, then she said she hadn’t opened the package, later she said she had so couldn’t send it back, then she said she will pay the charity some money as a donation next week, now she doesn’t want to discuss it further with me.
That is the condensed version.

So, I am pretty sure we will never see these boxes again, or any ‘donation’...and before when I was outpouring to several people in private, one of my friends said what would it take for you to get closure with this. Well, partly writing it down is getting it out of my system, and also can serve as a notice to the many hard workers in the babyloss community in other organisations to be alert. I am not naming and shaming this person here, she should be ashamed enough and she has been through a loss at the end of the day, but anyone who needs to know her name can obtain it privately from me in case they are approached as well. I would also like to ask you guys reading this to restore a little bit of human faith for me. I can’t afford to replace those boxes and I feel responsible. October is as expensive as xmas for me with all the charity related things going on. I want to ask anyone out there that feels a shred of emotion for what happened to me this week to chuck a few quid into this pot to replace these boxes. The boxes are worth over £25 a piece, and postage was £17 so I have picked a rough figure of £70 that will cover everything. Then I hope I can draw a line under this whole terrible episode. It is sad that lessons will have to be learned from this and a little trust has been taken from y heart in what is a very emotionally involved  job, but I want to believe that there are far more good folk out there than bad, or misguided, whatever she is.

  Anyway, thanks for reading about my really shitty day.

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