Reach out to those who have suffered a loss. Just a hug or a thinking of you card works wonders on a shattered heart.
I was beyond blessed to be their doula for her new baby girl, but this story is an important part of that journey....
I have written a letter to all of my children about their birth. These letters are wonderful little pieces of my heart weaved together into a story that climax with incredibly wonderful and happy events, events and outcomes that I will treasure forever.
I’ve sat down multiple times to write the story of losing my baby girl midway through my second pregnancy. While I never will get to share this with her, I’ve wanted to write my story to honor her, and to heal myself. It really wasn’t until I acknowledged her life, her birth, and her death (and the life and death of another 1st trimester baby) that I was able to move forward with my life.
However, every time I sit down to write, I hit major walls. At first it was the pain of reliving this tragic and horrific experience that at first I didn’t even count as a birth. How would anyone want to read about this? This was my burden to bear and no one would understand. Then as time went on, I became more and more interested in writing this piece, but the words never seemed right. At first they were angry, focusing on all the injustices I endured, and the journey of losing my faith in many things, including my body and my spiritual beliefs. But all these words were focusing on my pain and anger, rather than honoring my little girl. I wanted to honor her and find a way to be proud of her short time in my life, and how she changed it forever.
After I wrote my youngest’s incredibly positive birth story, with highlights of my angel’s life, I really wanted to write this story in a way that would explain how my life was touched, and how much this little girl has changed me into a deeper, stronger, more compassionate woman. But how could I put this into words? I couldn't tell her story like my others, because my memories of this birth are shattered pieces of my heart that I have slowly been picking up and weaving back into my life in a such a way that I can live with them and move forward. Putting the events in order seemed to make less sense, and take focus off of the truly meaningful events that took place. So here it is, almost two years after she lived, on my second Pregnancy and Child Loss Remembrance day, it is time to write this to honor my Baby Angel Girl. I apologize for the jaggedness, but please bear with me....it’s a story worth telling, even if only I am the only one who listens.
**************************************“I’m sorry, it looks like you are going to lose this pregnancy...” The OB/GYN stated very matter of factly to me, with no hint of emotion in her voice. I really couldn’t believe the words coming from this woman’s mouth who I had met less than 5 minutes before, who had supposedly been “monitoring” my progress the 12 hours before.
“WHAT?? I just felt the baby moving”, I said in utter disbelief, holding back tears. As they rushed to get and ultrasound, I recounted all the recent events that had happened. Had I missed something? Had they missed something? Why was I losing this baby?? No one told me this was even a possibility....I was alone, away from my 20 month-old daughter for the first time in her life, with my husband sitting in an airport over 1,000 miles away, with my feet in the air, waiting for what I thought was a simple surgery.