Friday, 26 August 2016

A Dad's Thoughts on Father's Day



As we approach Father’s Day, Sands Volunteer Parent Supporter, Chris Tsockallos reflects on what Father’s Day is like for him.

Eleven years ago, my wife delivered twins at 19 weeks gestation and our lives were completely shattered. After many years of fertility treatment to achieve this pregnancy, we didn’t even know if we could get pregnant again. We didn’t know if we would ever be parents to a living child. Our feelings of grief and loss were so overwhelming in those first few weeks and months, we needed to take time to physically and emotionally deal with what we were going through.
We first heard about Sands through the hospital. We attended a number of support meetings and I spoke to bereaved fathers at the meetings who were very supportive. I got to hear about their journeys through this difficult time.
Sometimes men may find it harder to open up as they feel they may need to be strong through this difficult period. In a lot of cases the father may be the financial provider and he may need to return to work.
Significant days like anniversaries, holidays, and Father’s Day can bring up very mixed emotions. For bereaved fathers, Father’s Day is a challenging day which may bring up feelings of great emotional sadness.
Each father deals with their loss in different ways. I like to spend part of my day on my own with my thoughts of my children who are not here with me on the day. Each Father’s Day we visit our twins at the cemetery. Although I think about our twins every day, on Father’s Day I like to be as close as I can with them and to reflect on my love for them and the place they hold in my heart. To me this is a time when I feel the closest to them.
Father’s Day is a day of emotional contrast for me. I get to celebrate the day with my ten year old daughter while at the same time reflect on my children who are not with me.
Some fathers may like to keep busy and active through physical recreation or surround themselves with family. Each dad has their own way of dealing with Father’s Day.
The one thing I have learned through grieving for our twins is not to be afraid to let your emotions out. If you need to cry or feel sad do it. Also don’t be afraid to ask for help. Talk to your partner. Let her know how you are feeling. If you have a family member or friend who will listen, talk to them about how you are feeling.  Please also remember that Sands has a dedicated Men’s Support Line where you can speak to other bereaved Dads who have a level of empathy that others males may not have. Talking to someone who has gone through a similar experience can be of huge help.
It is also important to communicate with your partner and be there for each other.
Every day I think about our twins. I wonder what they would have been like. I feel sad that they are not here with us. However they are always in my heart. While I am saddened by our loss, at the same time I feel thankful for our daughter who has brought so much joy into our lives.
Chris Tsockallos
If you require support after reading this blog please contact 
Sands on 1300 072 637
Eleven years ago, my wife delivered twins at 19 weeks gestation and our lives were completely shattered. After many years of fertility treatment to achieve this pregnancy, we didn’t even know if we could get pregnant again. We didn’t know if we would ever be parents to a living child. Our feelings of grief and loss were so overwhelming in those first few weeks and months, we needed to take time to physically and emotionally deal with what we were going through.

Sands were extremely supportive to my wife and myself after the loss of our twins. We attended a number of support meetings and I spoke to bereaved dads at the meetings who were very helpful. I got to hear about their journey through this difficult time. Speaking to them was invaluable.

Now it is time for me to give back to Sands. As a Sands Volunteer Parent Supporter I think I can help other dads through such a difficult time.

You can read more about Chris here.

Thursday, 18 August 2016

Am I A Grandma Yet? by Glenda

I wrote this poem, "Am I a Grandma Yet?" after I had been out one day and had about five people ask me "Are you a Grandma Yet? I started to dread being asked that question because it is difficult to answer without going into the whole story.  You don't want to answer no, because you do have a grandchild even though they are dead and you don't want to say yes, because then they will ask how old etc, etc. So I went home and wrote this poem to try and help me decide what I was!!




Am I a Grandma Yet?
Am I a Grandma Yet?
Sometimes I don’t know what to say
When people question me,
“Do you have any grandkids yet?”
And tell about their three

I should say ‘yes’ and skite a bit
And tell about our boy,
I should take out some pic’s to show
Him playing with his toys

I’d love to talk about his looks,
Ask if he looks like me?
I’d point out where our features matched
And hope they would agree!

I’d tell about the funny things
That are uniquely his,
The mess he makes, the way he hugs
The blessing that he is

But I don’t know what I should say
When people I just met
Ask me that thing I hate to hear
‘Are you a Grandma yet’?

Because…

My grandson should be just past one
And full of life and spunk
He should be toddling round the house
And filling it with junk

He should be wriggling on my knee
While I read him a book
He should be laughing out with glee
When helping me to cook

But nothing now disturbs the peace
It’s quiet as can be
Cause on the day that he was born
He was stillborn, you see

His lungs took in no air that day
He did not blink his eyes
His lips stayed closed, he did not move
He never even cried!

So how to answer, what to say
To people I just met
Please tell me what you think I am
Am I a Grandma yet?

©Glenda McClintock

Thursday, 4 August 2016

Charlie's Tenth Birthday.


It’s coming up to Charlie's 10th birthday on the 2nd September.
Today I hid in my daughters’ wardrobe and cried.
One of those silent cries because you don't want your children to ask what's wrong.
I knew it was coming. How could it not?  It never comes when I expect it too.
It waits until my heart can't take anymore.
Today I was putting my 7 year old’s clothes away. A simple chore.
I held the door so tight with one hand while my other hand covered my mouth to stop my screaming.
This year Charlie would have been 10. Double figures.
Wow, I would have had a son who was not far from becoming a teenager.
His sister Neve would have been 9.
The pain is still so raw, the pain of not holding them.
To watch friends’ children turn 9 and 10. To see what they are doing, seeing who they are growing up to be.
I have had to learn to not ask the what if's. There will never be an answer. I think sometimes the what if's are what hold me in this emotional rollercoaster.
Today as I stood there letting the tears flow and trying not to scream out, I had to give myself permission to let go, to not try to be the strong mum, friend or wife.
Today I can't do it. I can't be the mum that plays or laughs. Today I don't want to ask my husband how was your day.
Today I don't want to listen to a friend.
Today and probably for a few more days, I want to lie in bed and be cared for.
I want to be held and fed and not be all those roles of mum, wife and friend.
That's hard to ask for help, for me especially.
Today I told my husband i need to go to bed and not be a mum. He reply was to remind me he will support me and hold me and to allow me to stop my roles.
As he kissed the top of my head and held me he said
" you can cry and go to bed if that's what you need"
I so wanted to crawl into that bed. To allow the darkness to sweep over me like it has done so many times before.
Yet I didn't. I heard my two children playing and laughing downstairs.
My first thought was, how do I explain to them I can't be your mummy today?
They don't understand, how could they? They know about Charlie and Neve. We have always talked about them.
They need me, regardless of how I'm feeling. They need feeding, homework needs to be done, talking about their day. To them,  I'm their world.
I can go to bed when they do.
So today I didn't go to bed and hide. It doesn't mean tomorrow I won't. For 10 years I have battled.
10 years without our first son. I still remember his birth and seeing him for the first time. Those beautiful long legs. The way he looked just like his daddy.
I remember holding him whilst singing twinkle twinkle. The smell of his skin as i kissed him.  The tiny hand that gripped my finger.  The look on my husband’s face as he held him as he took his last breath. He was born alive at 23+5 weeks.  He lived for 2 minutes. He was not a miscarriage or a stillbirth.
Our son lived. I hope in those 2 minutes Charlie knew just how loved he was and still is.
I have those memories of him. Those memories I have every single day.
When Neve was born sleeping we lost that time of feeling her heartbeat of her grasping our fingers.
I remember her everyday as a chubby curly haired baby who was perfect.
Time they say is a healer. Not for me.
For me it’s just more time without them.  More time for remembering.
So today when I cried in the wardrobe I was crying for the 10 and 9 years of missing and remembering.
It's always so bittersweet.
So today I chose not to hide in bed but to allow myself to feel and to cry.
It's never easy, there isn't a magic wand to wave.
Today the choice I made was to keep going with support. Tomorrow maybe another choice.
Tomorrow  is another day.




For Charlie and Neve the love I have for you grows every day.
Kristina Riley