For My Son Who Was Born Sleeping

Updated: Apr 4

This was written for my little boy, Arthur Toplass, who was born sleeping. We don’t know why he died—apparently there is no explanation. He was my third baby, was wanted and loved, and I struggle every day now. So I write things down. This was written at 3 a.m., while I was lying next to my husband who was blissfully unaware that I was crying mountains worth of tears. I decided to read this at Arthur’s funeral, and I’m so glad.

Photo Credit: Bronwyn Toplass


My Arthur, I miss you.


From the day we saw those blue lines, we loved you

My body ever changing, to keep you safe and warm,

The days were long but busy,

the school runs, the workload and missing your Daddy,

Guilt often wrapped around me that I hadn’t had time to give you a second thought

But then I would put my hand upon you,

and it felt like just you and me.


My Arthur, I miss you and all that you were going to be.


A boy they said, your Daddy punched the air with joy,

Let’s get straight back home to tell your Nonni.

A little Toplass nose you’d have, and a pair of feet like flippers.


My Arthur, I miss you and all that you were going to be.


I knew the moment you had left me, I had a feeling in my tummy,

Mother’s instinct they say, I felt it there and then.

The pain engulfed my body as I heard them say ‘I’m sorry for your loss, Arthur has died.’

This must be a mistake, I had to shout and scream for your Daddy

What about my Arthur, and all that he will be?


But oh Arthur the day you came, you were all that you were supposed to be...and more!


Your little Toplass nose, a pair of perfect flipper feet!

Your delicate fingers that were just big enough to wrap themselves round mine.


Thank you for being my third born Arthur, for that you’ll always be.

I’ll carry you in my heart and remember that you were all you were meant to be, and even more to me.


Thank you Bronwyn Toplass / @arthursangels.x for sharing your words and photo. Shared with permission.


Coping with the grief of pregnancy loss can feel impossible and isolating. Surviving the Unimaginable is a guide to surviving loss, told through the voices of loss parents with the help of a clinical psychologist.



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