My Motherhood Journey

            Here is my personal story of pregnancy loss and the things that help me live with a broken heart. I hope by being vulnerable and sharing my personal story one person feels less alone or one friend gets more understanding and can better support a friend grieving a loss. My heart goes out to all the mamas with holes in theirs. 

Warning: this is a detailed story of miscarriage and stillbirth and there are some non-graphic photos.

Miscarriage

I found out that I was pregnant the Friday before Mother’s Day. It was perfect timing and felt meant to be. We were so excited! I wasn’t able to set up an appointment with the MD, medical doctor, until I was supposed to be 8 weeks along so we had an entire month of dreaming and wondering who this little one was going to be. My parents came to visit and we told them in a fun way. Then my husband’s parents came to visit right before our appointment and we told them the night before. Everyone was so excited for this new little one. I had been feeling so nauseous this entire time but I figured that was a good sign that the baby was growing. The next day we got to the appointment, nervous but mainly excited to see the baby. My MD puts the ultrasound in and finds the baby right away. It is smaller than expected and the MD went quiet. He called in another MD to double check what he was seeing and yes it was confirmed “no heartbeat”. Since the baby was measuring 6 weeks it could be possible that you couldn’t see the heartbeat yet so our MD suggested we come back in a week to see if the baby grew. We were in shock. My heart sank. You never expect this to happen. We get back to the car and I immediately break down. Our little baby is not coming, our dreams instantly vanished. I felt so empty when just a day ago I was the fullest I had ever felt. We texted the few family members and friends that knew we were pregnant. They were all so supportive as well as heartbroken for our loss. That week was hard. I kept praying for God to give my baby a heartbeat. The week went by and still no heartbeat. I had a Missed Miscarriage at 8 weeks pregnant. For those that don’t know, this type of miscarriage is when your baby dies without your body recognizing it. You typically find out that there is no heartbeat with an ultrasound even though you still feel all the pregnancy symptoms. I had to take labor inducing medication to get the baby out. I waited for the weekend hoping I wouldn’t have to miss work. The bleeding was so much I went to the ER due to fear of losing too much blood. I was getting lightheaded and feeling like I was going to pass out. They gave me fluids which helped a lot. Everything ended up okay for me except the fact that I lost my baby. 

        One thing my MD told me that helped a little was that the baby wasn’t viable. The match of egg and sperm wasn’t a good one. Having a science background that all made sense, even though it still hurt. Another interesting comment I received from friends was “At least it wasn’t further along”. I knew they were trying to help but it felt like they were unintentionally diminishing my loss. I was feeling so ashamed and guilty thinking I must have done something to cause this to happen. Not knowing how common it is to have a miscarriage, I felt like a big failure, like my body wasn’t good enough. I did end up missing a couple days of work due to the physical pain. When I told my boss why I was missing work she understood and informed me that she also has lost pregnancies, I believe she said 6. Apparently 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. It is so common and not really talked about. I get it, no one wants to talk about or dwell on a sad thing but it could help someone experiencing it to know they are not alone. I got back to work as soon as I could. It was a good distraction but certain questions from patients would trigger me. “Do you have any kids?” Was a big one. I remember getting mad at a family member that was joking around insinuating that I was pregnant, “are you sure you don’t want to eat anymore?, you’re looking extra tired...”. I blew up in her face saying, “I was, but we lost it.” I know people don’t normally mean ill will by these questions or comments and I need to give them grace but it definitely didn’t feel good to have to navigate how to answer. 

I was looking for ways to honor the miscarriage because I wanted to acknowledge it was real. I’ve heard the entire spectrum of people naming their child and having a funeral for them and people wanting to forget and move on. What worked for me and my husband was getting a tangible thing to hold to represent them. We got a Warmies red panda. It was helpful having something to hold when we felt so empty.  

Stillbirth

We started trying for another baby right away and found out Thanksgiving day that we were pregnant again. The excitement was tainted by the fear of losing this one as well. We were with my family at the time and told them right away. I figured if we lost this one too we would still want them to know to support us. We had our first visit earlier this time and saw a heartbeat. What a beautiful sound and right before Christmas. My husband’s family came for Christmas and we told them about the baby with a special gift under the tree. We were getting more and more hopeful that this one would stay. Once we made it past the 8 week mark I started to gain more confidence. Each passing MD visit reassured me that everything was going well and our rainbow baby was growing normally. At 20 weeks we found out we were having a boy! I kept feeling those precious kicks knowing he was okay. My sister threw a beautiful baby shower to celebrate our baby boy. We were so excited to have him join our family. The bigger I got the more pain I was having and it was getting more difficult to exercise let alone just walk around. We moved to a new town that was 5 hours away when I was 34 weeks. That was hard wanting to help but not being able to do much. Once we got settled I took some online birth and baby care classes trying to prepare. I also got established with a local MD. With each day getting closer to the due date we were getting more excited and nervous. I made it all the way to 39 weeks. I wasn’t feeling him move as much one day and went to the hospital to be monitored. Everything was looking good, Baby was showing signs of practicing activities for outside the womb. He scored perfect on the ultrasound test, no signs of distress. We were given the option of getting induced or waiting. Because he was scoring perfect on all the tests we decided to go home and come back in the morning if I still wasn’t feeling him move as much. From the birthing class I took I thought it would be better to go into labor naturally.

July 26, I went back to the hospital in the morning just to be sure. My husband stayed at work because we didn’t think it was going to be that eventful. The non stress test (NST) was still looking good but we decided to induce labor to get things moving. My MD said that it just seems like he is wanting to get out. I trusted her and agreed. I called my husband to come to the hospital because we were going to have the baby that day. I was moved to a new room. I was excited to meet my baby boy but I was also getting nervous about the unknown experience of labor. I was sitting eating lunch when my MD came in to tell me what the process was going to look like. They had hooked me up to an IV and were giving me fluids. Before any medication was started I was briefly taken off the monitor so I could use the restroom. When getting hooked back up my baby's heart rate was hard to find. The nurse tried a couple spots then the MD got up and tried. They called the US tech into the room to find the heart rate and it had dropped to 50 bpm. Not good. I was then rushed into the operating room to have an emergency C-section. Tears immediately streaming down my face. I buried my head in my hands. This was all happening so fast. My husband hadn’t made it to the hospital yet and even if he did I don’t think he could have been there with me. An anesthesiologist was not there right away so my MD started cutting without adequate anesthesia. I vividly remember my MD leaning down to my ear and asking me to be brave and I cried to her to please save my baby. I was so afraid. I was stripped down from the waist. It didn’t phase me how vulnerable I was, I wasn’t thinking of me, just focused on my baby. I could feel her cutting me open. I was in so much pain I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to keep going. I remember the nurses holding my arms down, everyone with tears in their eyes. I was screaming out until the anesthesiologist came and put me under. When my husband did arrive they told him we were in an emergency C-section. He was worried for both of us. He was the first to find out that our baby did not make it. He got to hold him as they were stitching me up not knowing how I was. When they woke me up I was very groggy and could barely keep my eyes open. My husband was by my side as they told me my baby didn’t survive. I started weeping, my heart was breaking. My precious Joel was gone. One of the nurses placed him on my chest to hold him. I was so weak I needed help holding him. I could barely see him through my tear-filled eyes but he was the most beautiful baby. 8lbs 1.5 oz and 19.5 inches. My heart still aches to hold him more. I didn’t get enough time with him. We got to hold him for a couple hours before the mortician had to take him away. The more I was waking up the weight of what happened was settling in. I couldn’t stop looking at him. He looked perfectly formed, peacefully sleeping. How could his heart have stopped? My perfect baby boy was gone. Why?! This isn’t fair! Friends and family were all worried that something bad happened because we told them I was going to be induced and then went silent. That night we FaceTimed my mom, dad and sister before they took Joel away so they could see him. It was special to share him with them. We just cried the whole call. That night was the most alone I had ever felt. So empty, like how I imagine a black hole would feel. My body ached for him. I wept. I hardly slept. I was afraid to close my eyes because whenever I did I was back in that OR getting cut into. My husband was there in the room with me but the couch he was sleeping on was so far away. He was also exhausted and grieving as well. Then the pain set in. Any small movement was so painful in my abdomen.

        The next couple days were a blur. Trying to stay on top of the pain meds. Having people come into our room to talk and make sure we were okay. The nurses came and prayed with us. The anesthesiologist came by to make sure I was okay. I didn’t even recognize him. He met me during the worst of it. After putting me under he gave me some meds that were supposed to help me forget some things. Everyone seemed so relieved that I survived. The entire time I never thought about my life being at risk, I was so focused on my baby. Once the thought that I could have died kicked in I wondered why I didn’t die and Joel lived. My brain was definitely in crisis. My MD came by to answer any questions and to tell us what happened from her perspective. The biggest question we had was, why? She didn’t know. There was no placental abruption but something caused his heart rate to drop. She suspects maybe a blood clot. The social worker kept coming by to check in on us and chat. I didn’t feel like I had much to say. She said she has seen the entire spectrum when dealing with this kind of grief. Families that want to forget and never talk about it once they leave the hospital. To families wanting to do everything possible to remember their baby. At the moment I was still in shock to really think about this but it stuck with me for later. It gave me the freedom to grieve and remember Joel however we wanted to. It gave us back some power and choice when we definitely felt powerless. A friend who is an MD at the hospital also stopped by and brought us food. I felt like through this horrific event we were truly cared for by this hospital staff.

My angel of a sister dropped everything she planned for the rest of the week and drove down to take care of us. She got there the night before we were discharged. As soon as she entered the room we all burst into tears. That was the moment our hospital bubble burst and this horrible situation was physically getting to outside people. She helped at the hospital the next day getting all my meds sorted and questions to the doctor answered. We then made it home and she helped situate us with food and set up my pain med schedule. She had gone through 2 c-sections and knew how to help with the recovery. My parents came the next day, Friday evening. My dad stayed for the weekend then had to go back for work but my mom stayed for the rest of the week. The weekend was a blur, lots of love, lots of caring, and lots of crying. This was supposed to be a happy time welcoming a new life to the earth, but instead there was a dark cloud hanging over us. A lot of people talk about how fulfilling becoming a parent is and how your life is never the same again. I was nervous, anxious and excited for this big change in our lives, becoming parents, but now it felt like nothing changed. Now we were supposed to go back to our previous lives with this invisible hole in our hearts. So many friends and family reached out with text or mail. It meant so much to us that Joel and we mattered to them. It definitely helped us know we were not grieving alone. My family wanted to help set up a way to honor Joel. So we started to plan a remembrance service. We were thinking of a small service in the woods with family. It turned into so much more.

            About a week after losing Joel we had to go to the mortuary to arrange what was going to be done with his body. My sister had already left but my mom was still with us and came to help. Before going we had to decide if we wanted to see him again before cremating him. This was a tough decision because all I wanted to do was hold him more. We didn’t get much time with him. However, I knew his body would be different and I wanted to keep the image of my perfect angel in my head. After much discussion with my husband we decided to not see him at the mortuary. I may regret that decision later but for now I feel like it was the right decision for us. At the mortuary we had to fill out a bunch of paperwork for his death certificate. We didn’t get a birth certificate because he was considered stillbirth even though he was actively dying as he was being born. This bothered me because how can you have death if you didn’t have life or birth. The lady helping us out was so kind. She offered to get molds of his hands and feet in cement before cremating him. This way we could still hold his hands and feet when we wanted to. It was a special tangible way to keep him close. We didn’t like any of the urn options there and decided it would be more meaningful to us to make it ourselves. A week later we got to pick up his ashes in a little plastic urn to then eventually get transferred to the one we were going to make out of wood. My husband’s family came a couple weeks later to help us move into our new home. It was tough seeing all the stuff that was meant for Joel. We stuffed it all in a closet behind a shut door.

From our understanding, both the placenta and Joel had an autopsy and nothing was found as a cause for his death. This is both a blessing and a curse. We have no idea what it was to prevent it in the future. We have no way to specifically blame ourselves or our healthcare providers. The “what ifs” definitely plague the mind. What if we stayed at the hospital the day before and got induced? What if we didn’t move and have that stress to deal with? What if I was more active or ate healthier? These questions can still haunt us but when they come up I remind myself that we did the best we could with the information we had. He was showing to be perfectly fine on all the tests right up until I was about to be induced. I try to give myself grace and not think too much about the “what ifs”.

        Our deep ache for missing him drove us to look for ways to keep him in our everyday lives. We choose the sunflower to represent him. So we filled our house with them. Now everywhere I see a sunflower I think of my precious Joel. We also got a bear that is weighted to his birth weight so we can mimic what it was like holding him. I call it Joel bear. There are lots of resources out there for stillbirth and infant loss. One company edited one of our photos of him to take out all the hospital stuff, tubes and tape, for free. Another company turned some of our photos black and white for free. Once they sent them back to us they referred us to a company that would give us a free photo book worth up to $100. They were so nice to help preserve our pictures and not worry about spending money on these nice things. Some friends sent me necklaces, one with his name on it and one was a locket with his picture in it. At the hospital they gave us a Millie box where we could keep all his stuff: ultrasound pictures, hospital bracelets, hat, swaddle blanket, hand and foot prints, a lock of his hair, a card from the hospital staff and donation certificates from friends that gave to meaningful organizations to honor Joel. Obviously none of these things replace my baby but they help me remember him and keep him close in my daily life.

September 17, We went to a creek up in the mountains near our house for a service to honor Joel. We sang some songs, listened to some songs, my father-in-law gave a talk, we added a rope to our family knot and spread some sunflower petals in the river. It was sad and lovely. Afterwards we went back to our house for dinner outside. We were blown away with how many people came to support us and honor someone they had never met. I can’t thank them enough or express how much that meant to me and my husband. We were and are blessed to have such a caring community around us.

After losing Joel I experienced so many emotions. I was going through postpartum and all the challenges that come with that but without the joy of having a baby to snuggle. When I was pregnant with Joel I didn’t enjoy a lot of it, but would always say it is for the purpose of having my baby. Now that purpose was gone and it was just miserable. Why did I have to go through all that just to lose him and now have to recover my body from pregnancy and major surgery. My milk came in when we got home from the hospital and it hurt so bad. I started losing hair a couple months later. Every time I went out in public I felt self conscious because I visibly looked like I had had a baby but I didn’t have the baby with me to prove it. I hated my body. All the stretch marks and that big vertical scar. I couldn’t look at myself let alone touch my belly. Postpartum is a tough time for a woman to figure out their new body and I was doing it with anger. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t think God caused this to happen (everything happens for a reason) but I was upset that He didn’t prevent it. I remember driving by myself one day and my Christian music playlist came on and I broke down crying. I physically couldn’t sing praise to God. With my earthly knowledge it felt like trust was broken. It was a slow process of opening my heart back up to Him but I figured living life without Him would be worse. God was right there with me the entire time, having His heart break with mine. It is still hard for my brain to comprehend why God lets heartbreaking things happen to His children.

            Every loss is different and everyone responds to loss differently. Here are things that were meaningful to me. I loved receiving things that I could wear or have in the house that reminded me of Joel. Whether it was something with his name or something with a sunflower. It was nice getting those tangible things. A friend sent a box of blue things to wear with the statement, wear something blue when you are blue and want to express it without words. I found that physical expression of wearing blue to express my sadness so helpful. A subtle acknowledgement of my feelings. I also appreciated all the check in texts, especially the ones later in the year. It showed me that others remembered Joel, cared for him and missed him too. Remembering dates was also a special thing to me. Getting texts with each month and year of his passing showed people’s intention to remember. Getting visits for special one-on-one time was extra special. Having my friends set a safe space for me to tell my story in whatever level of detail I felt like sharing without judgement was helpful. A big misconception I think a lot of people have, including me before this, is that people don’t want to talk about it. Don’t bring it up, it will make them more sad. This might be true for some but for me it was the opposite. I wanted to talk about it, talk about Joel. Maybe because I felt too isolated with what happened. I felt like sharing Joel’s story would keep him alive in other people’s minds a little longer. Sharing doesn’t take away any of the grief but it makes you feel less alone when others are grieving with you.

Several people kept encouraging us to go to a therapist. We found someone local who specialized in grief but not specifically stillbirth. We weren't sure how things would go since we had both never been to therapy before but were interested to try. To be honest it wasn’t that helpful to us. We went two times, shared our story, got tips on deep breathing (which I already knew) and was told we were doing pretty good. This is not to say that therapy wouldn’t help others, just that our situation with our therapist wasn’t helpful to us. I wonder if it would have been different if we saw someone who specializes in stillbirth or pregnancy loss.

I did and still do have some triggering things that will send my brain straight back to the delivery room and OR. The worst is when close friends, people I love, tell me they are in labor and going to the hospital. My brain immediately goes to the worst case scenarios because I have lived it. Then for the next couple hours I am in fear, it feels like what I imagine an anxiety attack would be like. Sweating, elevated heart rate, deep breathing, can’t focus. Once I get the “baby has arrived” text then I can calm down. Another trigger used to be birth announcements of not so close friends. I had to leave a virtual book club because someone announced the birth of their son in the group text and appropriately everyone was congratulating them but reading the text thread sent me into a panic attack. I called my friend that was in charge of the group and cried to be taken out. Over time it has gotten easier to be happy for new life or at least not panic. I had a tough moment with a friend about postpartum depression. She was sharing her active struggles on social media, which is totally valid and such a hard thing to deal with. I normally don’t respond to posts on social media but I felt strongly driven to privately message her to remind her that she has her baby and once the fog of depression lifts she will have that joy. It probably wasn’t the right thing to say to someone that is actively depressed and I feel bad now for even saying anything at all but I thought that insight could give her some light to look forward to because not everyone has that. 

        I was very nervous going back to work again because working in the healthcare setting I know patients can be nosy and I knew I would have to answer the “Do you have any kids?” question. Do I tell the truth of losing my babies? That will immediately bring down the mood in the room and make the questioner uncomfortable. Do I say 1 or 2? I personally felt a deeper loss with Joel because he was fully formed and I got to hold him in my arms. With the miscarriage I grieved from the thought of a baby but with Joel I grieved and am grieving him. Do I lie and say no? This felt like I didn’t care about my babies and was treating them as not important. I ended up saying “I have 1 baby but he unfortunately died during birth”. This always brought the mood down and some would cry but it felt right acknowledging him. I don’t know why I feel comfortable not acknowledging my miscarriage baby. Maybe it is because I actually got to hold Joel. He was fully formed. He was more in the public’s eye. The miscarriage was more in secret. Maybe it is because I don’t want to explain too much or seem like a downer with 2 losses. These are weird things that you never thought you would have to think about. Each family has to address this in whatever way feels right to them.

        I hope that through these painful and traumatic experiences I can be more thoughtful with others dealing with grief, especially baby loss. These losses have cut deep into my soul and are heavy emotions I will carry with me for the rest of my life. But they are also my most beautiful “what ifs”. I have had my fair share of loss in my life, from cousins, uncle, grandpa and countless friends. But the loss of my own babies, who didn’t even get a chance to live outside the womb, gave me a new perspective on how precious life is. It is a beautiful gift that shouldn’t be taken for granted.

Pregnancy After Loss

We decided to wait for 6 months after losing Joel to start trying for another baby. My body needed time to heal from the c-section and another pregnancy felt overwhelming at the time. I ended up getting pregnant in March. Due to losing Joel my MD wanted me to see an MFM, maternal fetal medicine, specialist. So we got an appointment scheduled with them around what we thought was 7 weeks pregnant. First we had an ultrasound and saw the beautiful heartbeat. Then we met with the MD. He said from looking at my chart and the tests done postpartum I could have antiphospholipid syndrome, meaning my blood clots a little fast, but it wasn’t clear. He said if he gives me that diagnosis we would treat with blood thinners throughout pregnancy and up to 6 week’s postpartum. If I was incorrectly diagnosed this treatment would only thin my blood a little and cause no harm to me or the baby. So we decided to give myself the diagnosis because if that was my problem the treatment would help a lot and if it wasn’t the problem it wouldn’t hurt. So I got put on daily Lovenox injections. They showed us how to safely do the injections, what to do with the needles and sent us on our way. Something the MFM MD told us that was interesting is that it is more likely for a person who has never had a stillbirth to have a stillbirth than someone who has already had a stillbirth. Maybe this is because the person who has previously had a stillbirth is heavily monitored during a subsequent pregnancy. This did give us hope for this pregnancy to be different. We were labeled high risk from the beginning and got monitored a lot during this pregnancy. At 11 weeks we found out we were having a girl. The 20 week scan looked great. Pregnancy felt the same with the discomforts. Everything was looking good but I couldn’t relax and enjoy because that was the same with Joel. I was trying to be excited but my brain was trying to protect me if I lost this one too. Which is so silly because no matter how excited or not excited you were, the loss hits deep.

I didn’t want a baby shower for Baby girl because I had everything ready for Joel. My sister threw such a lovely baby shower the year before for him and I didn’t feel like I could be around a big group of people asking me questions. So I opted for a girls weekend and invited my close friends and sister. Due to being so far away only 2 friends and my sister could come but we had such a lovely time. Did some small hikes, played games, celebrated baby girl and helped me organize the nursery from all the stuff we stuffed in there after losing Joel. We also went through all the clothes I had for Joel and set aside the boy only clothes from the gender neutral ones. This was so helpful. It was sad going through the things that were meant for him but I was so grateful for the help.

            Once the third trimester came around I was starting to feel more fatigued and more joint pain. It was making it hard to work. At this point I was getting seen twice a week for NSTs (non stress test) and once a week for an ultrasound measurement of babies size and fluid. To get these I had to go back into the hospital where I lost Joel. It was rough at first but with each passing visit it got better. Baby girl was looking good the whole time. I then shortly got diagnosed with gestational diabetes. We tried to manage it with diet for the first couple days but then needed to go on insulin. More shots, yay! I had to add 4 more shots on top of the one I was already taking. This was rough mentally. My husband had to help me with the Lovenox shots because they were bigger needles but I could do the insulin shots myself. It took awhile to get the right dosing. My blood sugar kept plummeting in the night and I would wake up sweating, not feeling good and have to eat something. I stopped working due to blood sugar crashing at work and having pain while working. It was easier to manage my blood sugar at home with all my food and meds readily available. Once everything stabilized they had me go on Metformin. If you know me this is worse than the shots because I have an aversion to swallowing pills and this one is big. By the grace of God there was only one day where I wasn’t able to take the pill. I figured out a helpful way to take it. Trust me I tried everything and what worked the best for me was shredded cheese. Strange I know but it worked.

For delivery we were planning a scheduled c-section to try to have the least amount of surprises and stress possible. It was also so close to my previous c-section it seemed the best for my uterus. At first my MD was scheduling it for when I was 39 weeks but I told her this made me nervous because Joel was born 39 weeks and 1 day. She understood and said we could move it up if the pediatrician agreed. They did, so we scheduled a c-section for when I was 38 weeks. That whole month leading up to delivery was surprisingly calm. We had some family and friends come to visit. We had our anniversary. My parents came the weekend before delivery. Everything was going well, the nerves were calm up to the night before. I wasn’t sleeping the best before but I definitely didn’t sleep well that night. We had to get to the hospital around 5am for our scheduled surgery at 7am. My MD tried to intentionally make everything she could different than what we experienced with Joel. We had a different room for recovery and the OR. I got to walk to the OR instead of being wheeled on the bed. My husband got to be with me the entire time. We got to pick our own music for the OR. I was hooked up on the portable monitor until we got to the OR. With all that it was still a very emotional and anxious morning. When I first got hooked up to the monitors by the night nurse it took her a little bit to find the baby's heartbeat which freaked me out. By the time she got me hooked up I was in tears. Since our surgery was scheduled right at the change of day and night shift they waited for the day nurse to get caught up and ready to go. This was a nurse we had been with a lot for the NSTs. We loved her and felt more at ease with her there. My MD, the physician assistant, the nurse, my husband and I all walked down to the OR together. Everyone was silent. I think we all felt the weight of this day. Once we got to the OR it was noisier with people getting things prepped. We got our music playing. When I got the spinal it hurt a lot. Like someone stabbed my nerves and then I quickly felt numb until I couldn’t feel my legs at all. This made it hard to breathe. I had to consciously take deep breaths. My husband was up at my head and we were ready. It felt like 5 minutes of holding our breath and then we heard that loud but sweet cry. Baby Guinevere was here! They lowered the drape so we could see her. Such a precious little thing. Me and my husband immediately burst into tears. Happy tears. We couldn’t believe she was finally with us.

It was a big relief having her in our arms but the anxiety of losing her didn’t completely stop. The first night in the hospital I couldn’t sleep, I was up watching her breath. I was afraid at any second she would stop breathing. That fear has lessened with time. It is true that we could lose our children or any loved one at any second, but it is also not healthy or productive to live in that fear. I am trying my best to not let fear overwhelm me and cherish every day I have. A quote from my MD, “We don’t get to choose when the people we love die”.

        Gwen has been such a blessing to our life. However, during her first year I would have moments where I would wonder how things would have been different if Joel lived. Would Guinevere even exist? I would catch myself in such a happy moment with Gwen and then immediately think of Joel and be sad for being happy without him. Definitely strange conflicting emotions. My MD said something that helped me with this, “Think of Gwen as a gift from Joel.” Not that Gwen is replacing Joel but that she is a gift. It has helped me fully enjoy her happy moments. Yes, there are still some sad days and I don’t think they will ever go away. However, I am finding some joy in honoring Joel. When I was in that dark hole I couldn’t imagine ever having joy again. Now I get to tell Gwen about her big brother, show her his pictures and make him a part of her life. Every year on Joel’s day, July 26, we treat it like a holiday. No work. We spend it together. We hike somewhere beautiful and bring sunflowers to spread the petals. It is definitely a day with mixed emotions but we hope to do it for the rest of our lives.

Advice for Friends and Family

I have had several friends reach out to me for advice due to a friend of theirs experiencing a miscarriage or stillbirth. Here is a list of things that were helpful to me.

1. Check ins. (I love yous, thinking about you,...) things where I didn't have to respond if I didn't want to, but that I knew someone was thinking of me. This can be very isolating and knowing someone else is sad with you can help. After we lost Joel I had a friend text me a bible verse everyday for a couple months. I definitely didn't like all the verses she was sending me "God's plan and all" but it was nice that she was thinking of me and my situation every day. You can try texting comforting things but most of the time it doesn't help. For me, it wasn’t what they were saying, but the fact that they were thinking of me. Just acknowledging how much it sucked helped me feel okay with my sadness and emotions.

2. Food. If you are close, bring over food. You don't have to stay but to take meals off their plate is nice. If you aren't close and they are near a city, grub hub or something like that would be nice. Deep sadness can make you forget about your basic needs like eating.

3. Something tangible. I got a Warmies stuffed animal to memorialize our miscarriage and we got a weighted bear for Joel. It was nice to have something to hold because you feel so empty. The necklaces I received with his picture and name were another tangible thing that helped. When I returned to work I would wear it everyday as something to touch when I would get anxious or sad thinking about Joel.

4. Something blue. When we lost Joel, a friend sent us a box with a bunch of blue things in it with the instructions to wear blue when you are blue and don't want to talk about it but want to express it in a tangible way. It was very helpful for me to have a physical way to express my sadness. Now when any of my friends lose a baby or a loved one I like to send them blue socks.

5. "Tear Soup" https://www.amazon.com/Tear-Soup-Recipe-Healing-After/dp/0961519762/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?crid=FKGTJ9RANTJK&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.8rjTJCVfS9plu_2qr5W5AXJ07FX2kFu44vVIygnMUvp68MlIv6h789IzG4H-0h9k2gyapIKBMq7vL_z4rQXxzTC_xw_UYB3NX4SpQCrRERF2wXDSuIj4xqoy9cgpHqvo4ZbXM_cmzZOVwjzupI5-Pxu4IZiUxKbIykpKIfKivDUD6sZuvv4mFRsR3q7taRg82naPMfT3vChedlxOiEiV2Q.5_7skcg06qOHEFBA_qDtKBsDxJvD2aPtELGs_lrSHu8&dib_tag=se&keywords=grieving+soup+book&qid=1738900049&sprefix=greiving+soup+book%2Caps%2C253&sr=8-1

It is a book that is for kids and adults. It paints a beautiful picture of living with grief.

6. Talk about it and remember. This might be specific to me but I wanted to talk about it, specifically Joel. When people would bring him up it reminded me that they hadn't forgotten about him. Dates were very special and hard for me. For miscarriage it was the due date that was a hard day. For Joel it was each month on the 26th for the first year. Now it is more the anniversary of his birth/death. When people would reach out to me on those days to check in it meant a lot.

7. Be present. When I lost Joel, having my sister present was so beneficial. I didn’t have to think about me, she had it covered. At night my mom would sit with me and rub my swollen feet. I think a big love language of mine is quality time and having some friends come visit over that first year after losing Joel was so helpful for my grieving. Friends that gave me the space to speak when I wanted to. Sometimes all they need is for you to be present without words.

Again these are what helped me and what made me feel less alone. Everybody is different. But also asking the parents what they need might not be helpful because they probably don't know what they need. I would try some of these things and see how they respond. I know my initial response to someone grieving was to give space but since having my personal losses I have found that the opposite is actually more helpful.

Here is my advice to friends that are going through this type of loss.

1. It is okay to feel however you are feeling. I know when I had my miscarriage I was feeling guilty for being so sad when I didn’t ever get to hold the baby or see a heartbeat. When I lost Joel I felt bad that I was so crushed when I didn’t get to hear his voice. You can always come up with situations that sound worse but it doesn’t take away from your loss of a life. And on the flip side if you don’t feel as sad as you think you should, that is okay. This is your personal loss for you to experience however it feels best for you.

2. Find a way to honor the life. It really helped me have tangible ways to remember and honor my losses. For the miscarriage we got a Warmies stuffed animal to hold and snuggle. For Joel we have Joel bear and the sunflower symbol. I have heard of others picking a color to symbolize their loved one, so whenever they see it they think of them. We also cherish the edited photo and the photo book. There are several resources for grieving parents; you just have to search for them. Here are the links for what we used.

• nowilaymedowntosleep.org

• babyangelpics.com

• warmies.com/collections/warmies-stuffed-plushies

• waltersbears.com/collections/weighted-bears/products/custom-weighted-infant-loss-bear

3. This really sucks! It is nothing anyone plans for. I found it helpful to talk to close friends and family about it. This doesn’t have to isolate you from others but bring you closer to them.

4. Writing down your story. Writing my story took forever, a little here and there but it was very therapeutic yet sad to relive the moments. You don’t have to share it if you don’t want to but the act of writing it down felt offloading to the brain.

5. Have a day set aside to remember and honor your baby. I have really loved having a day to intentionally think about Joel and honor his life. Yes it is sad but it is also keeping him close in our hearts.

6. If you have another pregnancy you will most likely feel like you are holding your breath and can’t get too excited trying to shield your heart if you have another loss. However, I feel no matter how excited or not you are, if you lose that baby it will still hurt. So why not be happy and positive now. Trust me, I know how hard it is. Try to find little things to bring some joy to the new pregnancy, to connect to the new baby.

Again, I hope by being vulnerable and sharing my personal story one person feels less alone or one friend gets more understanding and can better support a friend grieving a loss. My heart goes out to all the mammas with holes in theirs.