The Butterfly Garden, Swinford, Co. Mayo
- Stephanie Maloney
- Jul 16
- 8 min read
The Butterfly Garden: A dream became reality.
What began as a simple blog post in May 2020—an idea gently placed into the world—has now become something rooted. Something sacred.
You might wonder why it has taken me so long to put this into words. The simplest explanation is Imposter Syndrome—the disbelief that an idea of mine could truly make a difference, let alone come to life. But beyond that, I have been processing a quiet pride, allowing myself to fully embrace this brainchild and savor the reality of what we have created together. What we have achieved for our little ones—breaking the silence surrounding baby loss, easing the weight of isolation, and raising awareness—means more than words can express.
Three awards won in 2023 - the Mayo Cathaoirleach joint award for social inclusion.
The Katrina Armstrong award which is the local secondary school award that honours those who make a difference in the community
and an all Ireland IPB Pride of Place Award - Special Award for the work done for bereaved parents. There's been a lot of pride to process, a lot to be thankful for. The fact we did all of this during the depths of COVID 19 and lockdowns!
In 2022, the Butterfly Garden in Swinford, Co. Mayo opened to the public.
A garden for families. A space for quiet remembrance. A celebration of little lives that mattered—and still matter.
But before it bloomed into what it is today, it was just a dream born from heartache, love, and a powerful need to create a space where no one would feel alone in their grief.
The First Spark
I remember sitting in my parents’ house when a message arrived. A mother who had read my blog wrote:
“I’m sitting with Sophia, remembering my babies. I don’t have a space to go—but you’ve made a beautiful one here.”
I stood up and ran down the stairs—angry, emotional, overwhelmed. This mother had lost her baby over 50 years ago. She didn’t know where her child was buried—but she never forgot them.
Then, another message. A mother who had miscarried and was left with a void—no maternity leave, no acknowledgement their baby existed. No space.
I was so angry. I said out loud: “Why is there no space for these babies?”
My dad looked at me in shock, he knew I was angry and replied with:
“Well, why don’t you do something about it?”
He was right.
Both of my parents stood by me after Sophia and encouraged me to try make a difference. My dad came with me to the first meeting—at my request just in case no one else showed up. And from that day to this one, both my parents have been pillars of support—helping me honour Sophia’s memory not with silence, but with celebration. With action. With love.
From Blog Post to Big Dream
It all began quietly, with a blog post. I shared the idea of a memorial garden—not just for Sophia, but for every baby gone too soon.
And then the phone rang.
It was Anita—Amykate’s mammy. Though we hadn’t spoken much since her family had provided us the floating cuddle cot (what I always call “the gift of time”), she had been reading my blog.
She said simply:
“Let’s do it.”
Around the same time, Sarah—Jack’s mammy—had become a quiet, constant support. We’d been messaging since April. She had walked this path before and gently helped me navigate mine. When I told her about the idea, she said I'll be there with you.
I started ringing local councillors while Anita used her radio connections to spread the word. She had previously fundraised in memory of her daughter Amykate so had experience with media. Slowly, it began to take shape.
The First Meeting – 16 July 2020
Hard to believe now, but five years ago today, our first community meeting was held—the day everything became real. At the time I was just over three months into my grief. Cathal Kelly ran the Gateway Hotel Swinford and kindly offered us the use of the venue free for the meetings we would have there, meetings that moulded what exists today.
It was this evening that our committee was formed:
Me
Anita (Amykate’s mammy)
Sarah (Jack’s mammy)
Natasha (Mia’s mammy)
Bernadette (Sophie Marie’s mammy)
Emma (Kirrane babies’ mammy)
Emma (McHugh-Gaughan babies’ mammy)
Karen (Gallagher babies’ mammy and my ever-supportive aunt)
Other grieving mothers were there, too. Jacqueline—Lily’s mammy—who wasn’t on the committee but offered unwavering support from day one. Luke’s mammy, who donated special pieces we incorporated into the garden.
This was never a one-woman mission. It was a community effort—fuelled by shared grief, collective love, and the determination to create something meaningful.
A Garden Designed with Intention
Enter Martin Quinn—the kindest architect you could hope to meet who would donate his time and skill to the cause. Generous with his time, creative in his vision, and deeply compassionate.
Early on, Martin encouraged us to choose a name for the garden.
“If we have a name, we’ll have a theme,” he said. “And from there, the design can grow.”
We listened. We turned to our community to help us choose a name that was inclusive, symbolic, and meaningful. And that’s how The Butterfly Garden was born.
With the name in place, Martin let his creativity take flight—dreaming up beautiful features inspired by butterflies and transformation. From the checkered butterfly paths to the bespoke granite benches engraved by local monument maker Eamon Byrne with loving quotes, every detail carried meaning.
Some ideas didn’t make the final design, but many did. And each one was crafted with care.
Martin worked closely with local Swinford photographers and the incredible team at Newpark Development, who helped bring the vision to life.
We were also donated granite by a loving mother. Unsure at first how to incorporate it, Martin and Eamon helped us create an idea of two stunning engraved granite blocks with quotes chosen by the committee and our online community.
Every inch of this garden was shaped by parental hearts and community voices.
We tried to incorporate some of the pieces of nature we had to interfere with. We contacted Tommy K Carvings who carved a beautiful piece of a tree into elements which included robins, butterflies and sunflowers because "Loved ones are near when Robins or Butterflies appear."
We also chose to preserve an original stone that had long rested in the garden—a quiet, grounding presence from the beginning. Now standing at the entrance, it proudly bears The Butterfly Garden name, lovingly crafted in mosaic by the wonderfully talented local artist, Annaliese Brown. Through her work,
Annaliese didn’t just decorate the space—she created connection. Her stunning mosaic wall, alive with vibrant colour and calming texture, brings warmth and gentle sensory beauty to the garden, offering a tender way to feel closer to the little ones we hold in our hearts. Through art, remembrance finds a home.
From Angels to Butterflies
In the beginning, we called it the “Angel Memorial Garden.” To me, “angel” felt spiritual rather than religious.
But over time, we realised that for some, the word carried religious weight that didn’t feel inclusive. So we asked our growing online community to help us choose a name that would feel welcoming to everyone, regardless of belief.
And so, The Butterfly Garden was born.
Butterflies are the universal symbol of babyloss. They symbolise transformation, hope, and enduring love. They were the perfect choice.
Finding the Right Space
Local councillors kindly showed us a number of locations—but many felt too enclosed, too hidden.
I had walked the woods near the Swinford playground so many times during my own grief journey. There was one spot I kept returning to. The light through the trees felt magical. Peaceful. Hopeful.
The committee agreed.
Thanks to the Brabzon Trust, who generously gifted us the land, that peaceful patch of earth became our garden’s home.
A Place for Celebration
We knew some people might worry that a public garden dedicated to baby loss would feel too sad. Too heavy.
But that was never our aim.
This garden was always about celebration—a space to honour life, no matter how brief.
That’s why we have the bright orange bench—inspired from a photo on the vision board I brought to our first meeting and created by award winning Irish artist Breda Marron.
Bench Inspired by the vision board, crafted by Breda Marron and photographed at Wave of Light Event That’s why we have a picnic bench—Bernadette’s beautiful idea—so birthdays can be celebrated, siblings can gather, and moments can be shared. Bench by Murrays Recycled Plastics and donated by my parents with a very special quote on it "sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart."
That’s why it’s beside a playground and nestled next to a woodland trail—so families can bring all their children, visible and invisible, into their everyday memories.
So no one gets left behind.
At the Butterfly Garden we are delighted to hold the national event Light Up the Sky which occurs in various locations around Ireland at the end of August/Start of September.
Another rememberance event we try to get involved in is the International Wave of Light where last year we created sculpted butterfly lanterns through workshops with Artist Tom Meskall.
A Legacy of Love
This isn’t Sophia’s legacy—not in the way people often say it. Sophia already has her place in our hearts and lives.
But maybe, through her, I found the strength to speak up. To act. To stand beside others who are grieving and say:
“We can create something beautiful. ”
I’ve heard so many stories. Of early losses. Of babies without graves. Of families who didn’t get time, space, or support. Those injustices didn’t just break my heart—they stirred a fierce drive inside me to do something. I wanted people to start feeling comfortable with talking about our babies to recognise that behind our loss is so much love that our babies deserve recognition, they mattered and how our parenthood despite our loss should be celebrated through rememberance of our child.
Today, the Butterfly Garden Exists Because of You
Not just because of one loss, but many. Not just because of one voice, but a chorus of them.
The idea may have been my brainchild—but it took a community to help make it possible.
This garden is built on grief, yes—but also on courage. On community. On the unbreakable love we hold for our children.
To everyone who’s visited, supported, shared, or simply remembered alongside us—Thank you for embracing the garden, thank you for acknowledging and know your baby is remembered here.
To all the little ones who inspired the garden, inspired the love that has been poured into it, your life mattered no matter how brief.
We Remember You.
With gratitude, pride, and love,
Always Smiling,
Steffi xx
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