There have been many times in my life so far when I’ve heard sad news – not necessarily always affecting me directly, but something enough to make my heart break and to know that I’ll never forget how I felt at that moment. News to make me weep and exclaim about the unfairness of the world, that makes me rant and argue and exclaim that I don’t know why these sad things happen and that no-one deserves it.

One Sunday evening I read the despairing news that Jennie’s baby, the beautiful Matilda Mae, had suddenly passed away the night before. In utter disbelief I thought I hadn’t read it correctly, hurriedly trawled her timeline on Twitter trying to make sense of all the condolences I was reading. And the tears flowed (even now as I write this post I’m blinking hurriedly, fighting back the urge to huddle into a ball and cry once more for her pain) as I wept openly and tried through deep and howling breaths to communicate to my husband what had happened to make me feel this totally bereft.

Beautiful Matilda Mae

I have to say right now – I’ve never met Jennie, other than through some delightful tweets and emails as she has supported DaisychainBaby in making purchases for Matilda Mae and also her older children, William and Esther. I’m also not a mum. And I’m not part of the blogging community that has rallied round Jennie in the long days, weeks and months that have followed, allying themselves in staunch support. I argue that I don’t even need to be a friend, a parent, a blogger. All I need to share this pain is to be alive, because if you are alive you cannot fail to hurt so deeply at the very thought of losing any loved one so suddenly, but most of all a child whom we are meant to protect.

I have read every post that Jennie has written subsequently – eloquent, hurting, sharing. I may still never meet her, although I hope to one day. For what I have learned under these most desperate of circumstances is that Phoenix really do exist. I, like so many of us, are watching one of our own (and by that I mean a human – not as a mum, or as a woman) laying bare her soul. She is strong and brave, yet vulnerable and faltering. And how could you not be. Words can’t describe how you even begin to comprehend this type of loss.

Yet somehow what marks us apart from other species is our very resilience which has seen us through history and the present and hopefully long into the future. For in what to me seems like no time at all, Jennie along with the awe-inspiring support of so many around her, has moved sheer continents in her resolve to remember her beautiful daughter, to honour those organisations who have helped her, to make sure that a legacy is left. In so doing, she has ensured that we too can all play our part in making sure the sun shines again after the darkest of hours.

An Auction to Remember Matilda Mae is now running at the moment to raise money for The Lullaby Trust, who fund research into the reasons for Sudden Infant Death and they are doing all in their power to reduce the number of infant deaths on the way to stopping SIDS all together. The auction runs until May 20th, with new items added all the time. There are a whole host of wonderful items up for grabs, with all proceeds from sales going towards The Lullaby Trust.

I would be so grateful if you could take a look at the goodies available at these links, and place a bid on something that you would love to win!

http://myworld.ebay.co.uk/tots100index and http://myworld.ebay.co.uk/uniquechicgeek

Tell your friends, and ask them to place a bid too. Every single penny can go into research to hopefully reduce the chances of this happening to other families.

Even those of us who never met Matilda Mae have had their lives touched by her and know that she will never be forgotten. Angels never are.

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