It began as a love story. Charlotte Attry met her partner when they were teenagers. After a brief relationship in high school, they lost touch — only to reunite five years later and never separate again. Like many couples who find each other young, they grew up together: first jobs, first apartment, first trips abroad. After a decade together, they decided to have a child.
Attry became pregnant quickly and experienced a serene pregnancy. She and her husband prepared diligently — reading books, attending birthing classes. She gained weight proudly, her growing belly a public declaration: “Look, a baby is coming.” She learned early that it was a boy, and the name was obvious: Paul, after Paul McCartney, because her husband is a devoted Beatles fan. They moved into a new apartment and built their cocoon for a life of three.
The Day Everything Changed
Then Paul was born — and his arrival was nothing like what she had imagined. Everything accelerated one week before her due date when she stopped feeling her baby move. At the emergency room, the midwife reassured her. She underwent a first ultrasound, then a second, then a third. Her maternal instinct told her something was wrong.
After a blood test, events moved rapidly: within three minutes she was on the operating table for an emergency C-section, and five minutes later she had given birth — without her husband by her side.
When she woke, she learned her son had been transferred to the neonatal unit of another hospital. Panicked and in pain, she still knew nothing. Then doctors explained what had happened: a feto-maternal transfusion. Her son’s blood had drained into hers for reasons no one could explain. Paul needed a transfusion, and they would have to wait to see if he would recover.
She fought to see her son. When she finally held him the day after his birth, the moment was overwhelming. He was a magnificent baby — soft, plump, smelling sweet. She finally felt she was where she belonged.
Paul was in a coma, but nurses were reassuring, insisting this didn’t predict anything and that children could fully recover. Gradually, his oxygen-deprived organs began functioning again, and each piece of good news was met with a dance of joy.
Six Days of Hope, Then Devastation
For days, she and her husband waited, barely eating or sleeping. Her body was suffering, but she paid it no attention. On the sixth day, after finally getting some sleep, they had their first cuddle with their baby. It was a suspended moment — just him and them. Secretly, they hoped to return home quickly and begin their life as three.
Then came the detonation. The pediatrician informed them that Paul’s brain examination revealed no activity — and that they would have to make a decision. She was stunned, but eventually understood: they were being asked to disconnect the machines keeping him alive. That night, surrounded by family, they let Paul go. It was the most atrocious day of her life.
A Grief That Nearly Destroyed Them
The days, weeks, and months following Paul’s death were terrible — for them as parents, but also as a couple. Burying a child is an immense sorrow that nothing can ease. Attry spent months in a state of lethargy, completely empty, unable to tolerate anyone’s presence, even those closest to her.
The grief drove her and her husband apart because they couldn’t express their pain to each other. She felt she had given death at the same time as life; he struggled to understand. He remained silent, which enraged her. They went through countless misunderstandings and conflicts. For a long time, she even thought separation would be simpler — something her partner never considered.
They experienced their grief on different timelines, but in hindsight, she understands this is what allowed them to survive. He carried her for months, and when she began to surface, he collapsed.
Time helped them find each other again. Time to reclaim her body, time to relearn how to communicate and understand one another. Time for laughter and complicity to return, for shared projects to be reborn. A work trip to India — with her husband accompanying her — proved salvific. Gradually, they allowed themselves to consider having another child, which ultimately brought them back together.
Breaking the Taboo of Perinatal Grief
Seventeen years after Paul’s death, Attry chose to tell this story in a book, Le Brasier, published by Éditions du Rocher. Reconnecting with such a painful experience was not easy, but it was also liberating.
She offers advice to parents facing the loss of a child: if you wish, write to them. Record what you’re going through. Pouring your pain onto paper prevents you from carrying it alone. Writing brought her peace, even though she will always feel the void left by Paul’s disappearance.
She also wants to break the taboo surrounding perinatal grief. Seventeen years ago, she and her husband suffered enormously from feeling so alone in their pain. Society is uncomfortable with death — and even more so with the death of a child. This silence further isolates families.
- She wrote so people who have never experienced perinatal grief can understand what it is
- She wrote to help loved ones understand they must remain patient
- She wrote to bring light to parents facing this ordeal — because light does return
Today, she and her husband have two healthy children. They are a united family filled with love. Paul still holds a special place in it — but they continued to live.
Charlotte Attry, Le Brasier, Éditions du Rocher, 240 pages.
