The Saddest Day of My Life – One Year On.

I am sitting in a villa in Bali writing this on the first anniversary of the saddest day of my life.  This time last year I was also sitting in a villa in Bali – my heart slowly tearing as I waited for news from Australia that could never be good.

My son and his girl were at the women’s hospital in Perth – waiting for the birth of their first child, expecting the very worst outcome.  The pregnancy was not planned, however they both quickly adjusted to the big change in their lives, and made plans for the addition that would evolve their relationship into that of a family.  When the announcement was made I was so excited – I was more than ready to be a Granny – I was planning to retire from my day job anyway and started to imagine hanging out with my grandchild – spoiling it just like Grannies do.  After having two sons myself, I was also secretly hoping for a little girl, however like all just prayed that whatever the sex, the baby would be healthy.

Everything was going along smoothly until the 20 week scan, when it was confirmed by the doctors that irregularities they detected at 16 weeks were definitely something to worry about.  At this point my son & his girl were told the chances of them having a healthy child were less than 5%.  What a kick in the guts for them, and of course for their families.  The baby was the first grandchild on both sides, and the first great-grandchild for three of the four sets of grandparents.

As a healer I called in every single Archangel and Ascended Master I could think of – and prayed for a miracle.  I endeavoured to remain positive and offer some reassurance to my son that miracles did happen, and to hold the faith.  As the pregnancy continued, and more and more tests were done it became more and more evident that the chances of things working out OK were getting slimmer and slimmer.  I prayed harder and harder and sent healing both to the mum and the baby – still believing in the possibility of a miracle.

My darling & I had planned our holiday to Bali some months before and all the bookings were confirmed – although I was very willing to cancel everything.  My son was so brave, and protective of his girl.  They were both completely amazing in not getting hooked into the drama of it all, and dealing with things head on, one step at time.  I understood and reluctantly accepted that this was part of their journey and it was for them to deal with in a way that worked best for them.  The most difficult thing as a parent is to stand by, seeing your child in a terrible circumstance, and not being able to do a damn thing about it other than pray.  My son told us to go on our holiday – there was nothing we could do, and nothing to be gained in cancelling our travel plans.  Getting on that plane to fly out was so hard – however I fully respected their right as adults to deal with the situation in the way that they felt was best.

When that fateful text came through confirming that our little granddaughter was still born my heart completely ripped – not only was my son and his girl denied the joy of the life of their new baby – I had failed in my job as a healer.  I was clearly a charlatan with delusions of grandeur when it came to my “powers”.  How could I offer services as a healer, when I could not even heal my own granddaughter and protect my son and his girl from the pain of such a terrible experience.

Their way of dealing with their loss on so many levels was to close ranks – they supported each other, but did not have it in them to share that loss with their families.  They had a private service in the hospital, and made arrangements for their baby’s cremation.  By the time we got back to Perth a week after the birth, they had decided that they would look to the future and not look back.  I believe there are photos of her, along with hand and foot prints or similar, however it is not something they have shared with us at this stage.

Loss and grief are dealt with in different ways.  For me my first grandchild was really only ever a concept – but in her death I lost so many things.  I lost my grandchild, I lost the opportunity to be the coolest Granny going, I lost a part of my son – the part of his heart that has hardened, I lost my faith in all that I believe in, I lost my belief in miracles.

We all grieved in our own way – and life does go on.  As there was no real opportunity to seek closure to help the deep wound in my heart heal, I grieved silently and privately.  In a sense my loss was secondary to the loss that my son and his girl experienced, and as they were very private, my private grief was out of respect to them.  As I write this, I am not even sure I will ever share it as it will put their loss in a public forum.

Some months on, an artist friend of mine was co-ordinating a project call LOST.  I saw this as a way to honour the loss I had experienced and also create some solid evidence of my granddaughter into my existence.  The week the project items were due I was cleaning out my linen cupboard, and found a cloth napkin that had been my Granny’s – the mice had got in and damaged it.  Another loss – a remnant of my memories of my Granny had been destroyed.  I loved my Granny Farrell and had a very strong connection with her – I was going to be the next Granny Farrell, and hoped to honour her in taking on that mantle.  My Granny had long passed over, and my granddaughter had never really lived – I was in the middle – living…..  I used an item of clothing I had bought in preparation for my grandchild’s arrival and a piece of the napkin in creating a memorial that honoured them both.  A cathartic process for me.


My healing had begun, and my faith in my beliefs recovered through other means.  I continued with my work offering psychic readings and life coaching sessions to clients, however I could not bring myself to offer healing services in any real way.  My faith in my healing abilities had been severely damaged, and I considered removing that service all together from my repertoire.  My crying sessions gradually reduced and it got to the point where I could talk about my granddaughter without tears rolling down my face.

Later on in the year I attended the three day Conscious Living Expo in Perth as a psychic reader.  Each day as I went in and out of the pavilion I passed two very beautiful and talented ladies who drew people’s angels and spirit guides.  I was really busy, and didn’t have a lot of free time, however at the end of the last day made the decision to have my guide or angel drawn.  I managed to secure the very last appointment Wendy Ishewe had available for the Expo.  I sat and Wendy held my hand and started channeling.  She said that Archangel Michael was coming through which was no surprise to me as Michael and I are mates from way back, and we work together often.

The next thing that came out of Wendy’s mouth blew me away.  She said that Michael was presenting with a wounded dove in his hand – and was telling me I was a great healer and could heal just about anything, however I needed to understand that some things were not meant to be healed.  At this point the tears started rolling down my face.  Michael went on to say that I hadn’t failed in not being able to heal my baby granddaughter, and I was not to let that experience stop me from offering healing to others, however first I had to heal myself and transmute the pain in my heart to light.  I am not able to put into words the feelings I had in that moment, however I can certainly say that a great burden had been lifted from me.  Beautiful Michael had once again shown himself to me in order for me to move through darkness into light – reminding me of my purpose, and confirming his never ending support.  Over the course of Wendy’s drawing the wounded dove was change into shining light, and my faith in myself and my purpose was restored.



In my experience we never completely get over a significant loss, however we can come to a point of acceptance.  One year on, as I write this, the pain of the saddest day of my life – 17th March 2012 – is still as raw as it was then, however this is not always the case.

All that were affected by the loss of that baby girl will always carry a scar from the wound  of that loss – and each of us are dealing with our grief in our own way.  Writing this today had been another step in my healing – I am a Granny – to a little angel that for whatever reason was not destined for this world at this time.  I too am looking forward – to a time when my second grandchild arrives – and I will be the coolest Granny going – and do justice to the mantle of Granny Farrell.

For Tyler Rose – (still) born 17th March 2012


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