Why I wrote a picture book about grief and baby loss?
Gilbert’s Cake is my first book. I am a social worker with a special interest in loss, grief and trauma. I am interested in embodied ways of working towards healing and connection. I work part-time as a counsellor at a university. I love to read and go to yoga and pilates. I can often be found daydreaming in the backyard or going for a walk at the beach. I am married to a lovely man called Pete who works as an electrician. We have three children.
Our first baby, Gilbert, was stillborn at 40 weeks. That was a very hard day, the 12th of August 2010. Our twins, Harriet and Flynn, arrived in 2012 and they both love sport and hanging out with their friends. They get along well - most of the time - and would have loved to be teased by their big brother. They love him despite never having met him.
We all miss Gilbert in our own ways and we're proud to be sharing something of our experience of loving him in the form of my book, Gilbert's Cake.
The book is very much inspired by our family's experiences, although we don't live just behind the sand dunes (wouldn't that be nice?). There really were pelicans flying above the crowd outside Gilbert's funeral though. And Harriet and Flynn always wanted a party on Gilbert's birthday.
I found it hard to get in the mood when the kids were really young and my grief was still quite raw, but as the years passed I realised that celebrating Gilbert's anniversary was good for all of us . . . And one day something very special happened when we went down to the beach to eat cake . . . It inspired me to write Gilbert's Cake.
Our culture is not well-versed in the language of grief. Deep sorrow is not easy to speak about, especially for grown-ups. And when death occurs at the most unexpected of times – during pregnancy or infancy - these conversations seem even harder. How can we have more honest conversations with each other – and our children – about death? The answer, of course, is through story.
We have come a long way in recognising the impact of perinatal grief but bereaved families often still feel invisible, isolated and even ashamed.
Around 6 babies are stillborn every day in this country. Stories such as Gilbert's Cake help to normalise what is a relatively common experience for families and assist in challenging the lingering taboo about speaking openly about perinatal loss and grief.
While working in bereavement support with families whose babies had died, I became aware of the lack of contemporary picture books for children whose siblings were stillborn. I decided that one day I would draw on my own experience to write a story that might help fill this gap.
My hope is that Gilbert’s Cake will find a place in the hearts of grieving families and inspire them to share their own experiences and perspectives on grief with each other. Healing happens in connection and in community. Every family who has experienced the loss of their precious baby/ies has a story of grief and ongoing connection that they long to share, to be heard and celebrated. I hope that our culture continues to cultivate safe spaces for these stories to be spoken and held.
After writing Gilbert's Cake, I found Margrete Lamond - an award-winning picture book publisher, author and creative director - who provided me with a structural and copy edit.
Upon approaching traditional trade publishers with my story, I received some very positive feedback about Gilbert's Cake. But no one was willing to take a commercial risk on a picture book about a family whose baby had died.
Fear not! Margrete Lamond and I decided to co-publish my story under Margrete's new imprint, The Gilded Snail. With Margrete's expertise and depth of experience in the publishing industry, Gilbert's Cake has been lovingly brought to life. Margrete introduced me to illustrator, Helen Nieuwendijk, and we got along from the moment we met. She has always had a deep understanding of my story and made the most stunning interpretation of it through her art.
Thank you for joining me here. If you have also experienced the loss of your precious baby or babies, I acknowledge your grief and heartache. I hope my book brings comfort in your healing. x Emily