The Grief Wall: Loss of Identity After Stillbirth

Understanding Grief / Understanding Grief : Eleanor Haley



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This essay was written by one of our grief friends, Alex.  We very rarely have guest posts, only when we know the writer's message will resonate with those who've had similar experiences in a way we couldn't hope to replicate.  Thank you, Alex, for sharing your story.

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Our baby boy, Robin, was born still three weeks and a day ago. How do you say that right, by the way? “Born still” is the closest anything comes to seeming accurate and appropriate, but it sounds off at the same time. “Stillborn” is too clinical, and “born sleeping” strikes me as some form of denial. “Born dead” is obviously too callous. It’s not often that I’m at a loss for a good description, but this is one of those times. Anyway...

In the 22 days since I delivered him at 22 weeks, I’ve read hundreds of articles. I did the same thing throughout the four weeks I experienced bleeding at the beginning of my pregnancy, the three short and happy months after that, and then the three weeks I spent on bed rest before he died and was born. Each day has presented a new reason to “go look it up.”

Physical symptoms of grief
How is my boyfriend handling our stillbirth?
Feeling numb after stillbirth
How long will I bleed after stillbirth?
Why didn’t my milk come in after stillbirth?
How to memorialize a child
How long should I wait to go back to work after losing my baby?
Baby development at 23, 24, 25 weeks

I’m not naive enough to think I can find specific answers for our situation. As every article, post, and advice column disclaims - it’s going to be an individual experience. This process of moving through his death, and the life we had already built around his too-short existence, is our own to deal with; I know this. But like all of us, I look for insight; some key that will unlock the endless hallway of doors now closed in front of me.

The problem is, I don’t actually look at grief as a series of doors to unlock over time. Rather, it feels much more like I'm standing behind a wall. The Internet and its myriad of wonderful people has given me a lot; with its experts and wordsmiths and everyday users trying to express the awful feelings we all now share. But I have yet to find one very important insight, so I’ll try to share with you what it feels like as best I can.

wall 1

No one ever tells you that you're going to lose all context of yourself. Your life, your identity, your interests, your relationships—everything feels like you’re figuring it out again for the first time. Fortunately, I guess we have our individual histories to rely upon for clues about who and what we were before our loved one's left us. 

Obviously, I would’ve been a first-time mom. I didn’t even know for sure that I wanted kids until we were pregnant, and for the first few weeks, I did the usual, “Oh shit, what now? I had so many things I wanted to do with myself!” I figured things out quickly though; I realized I could still be me, still build my career and my life with my boyfriend, and still pursue the causes dear to my heart. I would do all of it for, and with, my new baby boy. My baby boy who gave me purpose in a way I always thought was over-sentimentalized by the other parents I knew - I get it now.

I wanted so badly to be a mom. The fact that Robin proved it to me was something incredibly special, and I wanted to be his mom more than anything I’ve ever known or felt.

And then I couldn’t be.

The good and caring people around me tell me I am still his mom. Of course. Who else would be? He was and forever will be my baby, but he is not here.  I didn’t get to take care of him for nearly long enough, and now I don’t know what I want at all.

It's a wall. It’s a wall without a door and without a key. There are no keys in the online forums, the medical and mental health websites, from the grief counselors, in the support groups, or from the wisdom of family or friends.  No one tells you what to do when you lose yourself.

I don’t know who I am without him, without planning for him. This is not to say I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, and I do those things. I get out of bed, shower and groom, take care of our home and two lovely cats, interact with loved ones, reach out to support wherever I can find it, stay as involved as I can be in the causes I love, work on building the business I had started while I was pregnant. We even bought a new house. I’m doing what I’m supposed to do, but nothing is infused with meaning anymore. In fact, a lot of the time it's devoid of any feeling at all.

I listen to Johnny Cash’s version of “Hurt” a lot. It’s the best explanation of what I feel like I’m going to feel like forever.

I wear this crown of thorns Upon my liar’s chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair

I’ve been through loss, depression, broken relationships, and some other very scary situations, yet I’ve never lacked for my own identity. I always felt strong, independent, and motivated — now I really don’t know what I am, and nobody has an answer or an online article for that. I wake up every morning with the groggy hope that everything is over, truly a horrible dream that will dissipate as the day goes by; I go to sleep every night just to end the pain and internal inertia.

I keep doing what I’m supposed to do, going through the motions and repeating “fake it till you make it” in my head. These things at least make me feel less dependent and less like a failure. I know I need to connect Robin’s memory and the positive things his little life brought me to the everyday things I’m doing now, but to know this is not to feel it. I just want to feel him again, and knowing I can’t is a wall without a door. The me I used to know is on the other side of the wall, holding his memory in happiness and trying somehow to live up to it.

wall2

What I hold onto, I guess (though I’ve never really acknowledged it until writing this) is the hope that I'll wake up and the wall will have finally crumbled. Then I'll be able to feel him and his life again without the hurt and confusion his death left in its wake. Maybe there’s a story or insight out there that’ll help me crumble the wall...but I’m guessing there’s not. Maybe, hopefully, something else exists within me, and anyone else who feels like me, that will eventually crumble our walls. Maybe this thing that seems to defy words is just time.  All I know is that I'm waiting here— in some cruel and confusing limbo between his life, his death, my life, and a new life without him—and sometimes it’s just too hard.

Have you experienced a loss of identity after stillbirth or any other type of death?  Share your story in the comments below.  

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104 Comments on "The Grief Wall: Loss of Identity After Stillbirth"

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  1. Chelsea  May 16, 2023 at 5:17 pm Reply

    Thank you. Your words helped me feel again and disturbed my internal inertia for today.

    -5/17/21 the day i found out i was pregnant

    -5/19/21 the day I was rushed into emergency surgery for a ruptured filopian tube and found out I had an ectopic pregnancy and ultimately lost my first and only pregnancy at 6 weeks.

    I was so excited to be a mom.

    • Laila  June 7, 2023 at 6:58 pm Reply

      I’m sending you virtual hugs and support. I’m so very sorry for your loss Chelsea 🫶

  2. Marion  May 16, 2022 at 10:16 pm Reply

    I gave birth to Lee on Wednesday February 9, 2022. He was stillborn at 37 weeks. He had a healthy heartbeat the Thursday before. Monday, the 7th, I went in for a scheduled sonogram and the nurse tried to keep it from me until the doc could come in. I didn’t think anything about it until another nurse came to get me from the waiting room and accidentally told me there was no heartbeat. To say I was in denial is such a gross understatement. I refused to believe it until we had another sonogram AND a doplar monitor was put on. I already knew what his heartbeat sounded like, and it just wasn’t there anymore.
    I was given inducement meds beginning Monday; water broke on Tuesday; and I gave birth Wednesday. When he came, I was so out of it, I didn’t have a chance to hold him until after the nurses cleaned him and wrapped him in a blanket. Then all I did was hold him for a quick picture.
    That will forever be the biggest regret of my life. The fact that I was too self-absorbed in my own pain that I couldn’t even touch his face or count his fingers and toes. I was too much of a coward to kiss his cheeks.
    And now, 3 months later, ALL I want to do is hold my baby and kiss his cheeks and dance around the living room with him. I SHOULD be taking the “milestone” pics of Lee; telling everyone what he likes to eat and how long he sleeps at night. I SHOULD be doing so many things with my son!!! But I’m not and never will!
    I don’t know if any of this will ever get better. I do know that I have to keep my mind busy to keep from drowning in despair. Its when I am alone, without anything to do, that the sorrow creeps up on me and threatens to drag me down. So I stay busy at work, and keep the tv on at home for the constant noise to keep my mind from wondering to “what could have been”.

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  3. Marion  April 12, 2022 at 3:56 pm Reply

    I lost my Lee at 37.5 weeks on 2/9/22. We went in to a scheduled sonogram on Monday, 2/7/22. That’s the day my world shattered when I heard, “no heartbeat”. After being induced that day, and finally giving birth 2 days later, the delivery nurse found blood clots in the umbilical cord. I feel like my body has betrayed me. I’ve never had problems with blood clots before; why did my body all of a sudden produce the one that would kill my baby? I have what I call “mini-breakdowns” several times a day, mostly when I am driving alone or see something about pregnancy loss online. I never know my arms could physically ache from not holding someone, but mine do because he’s not in them. My heart should have stopped with his; but like your article says, I’m still here, “going through the motions” until something changes.

  4. Cat  February 4, 2022 at 5:01 am Reply

    I went in for no movement at 39+5 and there was no heartbeat. The cord had gotten wrapped around his neck.
    Its been 2 months, it feels longer. I have 2 children- 6 and 10 but I’ve forgotten who I was before the pregnancy. It was the right time for us, we were so ready.
    My partner and I have decided to not “try” but not prevent and just see what happens. Really all I want is to be pregnant again, not to replace my son Carter but maybe to regain my identity. I should be complaining about sleepless nights and clusterfeeding right now but instead I’m on maternity leave filling my days with housework, naps and staring at my phone. I cant even go back to work yet as I’ve got some gastro issues going on that I’m waiting to speak to a specialist in hospital about.

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  5. Elizabeth  January 15, 2022 at 5:14 pm Reply

    I lost my baby at 22 weeks, too. We never found out the gender, but they were our first. It’s been 3 1/2 months and everything is still so raw, and difficult, and hard. I miss them every day. We’ve started trying again, and it’s left a whole new world of emotions. The sadness and anger that comes with each period. The guilt that we’re trying for a new baby when our first child’s due date hasn’t even come. It’s a personal hell that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. And yet, so many people have lived this. Thank you for sharing your story. This is a club I don’t want to be a part of. A club I wish no mother ever had to join. Yet hearing stories. Knowing I’m not alone in the pain of losing a baby, struggling with the identity of mother when there’s no living child in my life, reminds me that I can go on.

  6. Lyndi  October 13, 2021 at 11:26 am Reply

    We lost our son, Arthur George, two and a half weeks ago at 28 weeks. It was an otherwise healthy pregnancy so there was no time to prepare or even anticipate the loss.

    Since then I have done the same thing. Just this constant searching for an answer without being able to find one. Medicated sleep seems to be the only reprieve but then as soon as I wake I become aware of the day and the pain starts all over again. I just want that wall to crumble and for this to be a terrible dream. I’m just stuck trying to find the way to break down that wall and make it so that this never happened.

  7. Desseree Lysne  May 2, 2021 at 7:39 pm Reply

    This is the only article that I have read that captures exactly how I feel. I lost my baby boy March 19, 2021 at 35 weeks. Please someone who is further out from their tragedy tell me that things get better. I am so lost.

  8. Barbara B  April 28, 2021 at 3:11 am Reply

    Do coyote found no heartbeat at 38 weeks pregnant. I delivered a beautiful boy April 27th 2021. I’m devastated and broken. My only son. My only child. Can’t remember life before him…. dont know how to live without him.

  9. Sadia  April 5, 2021 at 12:12 pm Reply

    After suffering with secondary infertility for 12 long years, I fell pregnant last November. We held our breaths for 12 long weeks, and then celebrated in the fact that we were going to have another baby. Everything looked perfect at my 16 week appointment. I was so blissfully happy. Then on March 26th 2021, at my 20 week appointment Dr found no heartbeat. I delivered a perfect baby boy on the 29th, and laid him to rest on the same day. I’m crippled with grief. I can’t function, I can’t go on. I’m putting on a brave face for my 2 older kids, but I feel like I’m the one who died. I’m a shell of a woman. I know it’s only been a week, but I don’t think I’ll ever be ok. The worst part is people messaging with condolences, saying things like “I can imagine how you feel” and “Don’t worry, soon you’ll be blessed with another baby soon”. Firstly, no, you can’t imagine how I feel. Secondly, is another baby supposed to replace my baby boy? Is he disposable, interchangeable, not significant? I don’t know what to do, how to continue living.

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  10. Mari  March 23, 2021 at 9:46 am Reply

    I lost my beautiful boy at 36 weeks last October 2020. Five months on and I still don’t know who I am. I’ve read your comments and experiences today and my heart goes out to each and every one of you. I can’t cope. I have no support network. I’ve had to leave he man I love because he hurt us. Then I lost my boy as a result. His oxygen just got cut off because of an undetected true knot. His heart just stopped. I have truly lost my identity. I don’t know who I am anymore. I have nobody to speak to. I have no home no partner and no baby. Domestic violence caused me to flee with my baby but sadly he did not make it to safety as I did. I wish every day that I had died in his place. It doesn’t get better. I have been crying every day for the past week again. I did everything for his funeral and his graveside and I just want to crawl in the soil next to him. I hate myself for not being able to save him. I went through the guilt stage. Maybe if I’d say differently? Maybe if I hadn’t lit that candle? Been so stressed? So worried? Maybe if I’d just stayed and suffered till he was born safely this wouldn’t have happened. I can’t imagine ever being the same again. I misss my babu so much. I’m still in love with a man that hurt us. And I feel hopeless and worthless as a woman. Charities are full or underfunded-nobody is there to help it seems. I just feel completely alone. I want my baby boy so much, to hold him, watch him play, feed him, laugh with him hear him cry. I couldnt do that. I Didn’t get to do any of that with him. I feel like an imposter. Why am I here? I’d love another baby but I don’t even have a partner to plan that with. I feel so so alone. It’s never going to be ok again. Ever.

    • Isabelle Siegel  March 23, 2021 at 2:35 pm Reply

      Mari, I’m so sorry for your loss and to hear that you’re going through this. If you can, I recommend that you reach out to a therapist trained in grief and bereavement. You can find one here: https://complicatedgrief.columbia.edu/for-the-public/find-a-therapist/ If you are thinking of hurting yourself, or even if you just need someone to talk with, please call the National Suicide Helpline at 1-800-273-8255 or visit their website where you can do a live online chat https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/ Please know that, no matter what, you are not alone.

  11. Angel  March 23, 2021 at 4:57 am Reply

    I lost my baby boy at 36 weeks last October 2020 and five months on I am still grief stricken. I don’t have a support network and I broke up with my partner before he was born due to domestic violence. I feel like I’ve lost eveything, my home, then I love and still love, my beautiful wonderful angelic baby boy and my
    Identity. I’m still grief stolen. I’ve taken to crying everyday again and my only wish is to have my rainbow baby now. But how? I’m not even in my relationship anymore. I’ve lost everything. I don’t even know who I am. I’m not me. I’m Not who I was. I feel like I want to crawl into that soil with my beautiful joy and stay there with him. I went through the guilt, if only I’d say differently, gone to the hospital sooner, told them to induce me earlier instead of going home like they advised. A true knot in his umbilical cord was the only cause they found. His oxygen was cut off. I was devastated numb shocked at the time. I didn’t believe it had happened. It was like I was never pregnant. Like my whole relationship with the only man I’ve ever truly loved did t happen. Like my life didn’t matter. I didn’t want to be here. I still don’t. I have lost it all. I have no one to talk to. I’ve even tried keeping my baby alive in my head by looking at pictures of what I think he would have looked like now. I know it’s not healthy but I miss him so much. I have nobody to talk to. Charities say they are either full or underfunded. I’m miserable and I hate myself. He only had four weeks to go. Four weeks. He lost oxygen. I just can’t accept it. He should be five months old now. He should be here. In my arms. Eating drinking playing laughing crying. Instead I’m here. Alone and lost and hating myself more and more each day for not dying instead of him. It’s so hard. I’ve read these comments and I feel for all of you. They’ve made me cry with you for your missing pieces Of your lives and hearts too. I feel like I have suffered a double loss. Fist my partner then my baby. He recently tried to make contact again and I couldn’t even tell him what had happened. Because in my head and my heart I still need my baby alive. I can’t get back with my partner. I’ve had to cut him off too from making anymore contact. For my safety as much as anything else. But I feel so alone. I just feel so sad. Because I’m lost mad feeling like I’m in limbo. I love my partner but have to treat him like he doesn’t exist. Even if I wanted to believe him I can’t. And my baby literally doesn’t exist anymore. I’ve left my home I’ve lost everything. I have no identity. I lost my baby amd I don’t think I’ll ever recover from it. It hasn’t got easier it’s got harder. Harder each day and this week has been the worst. I don’t want to be here anymore without either of them.

    • Isabelle Siegel  March 23, 2021 at 2:38 pm Reply

      Angel, I am so sorry to hear that you’re being forced to go through this. Have you tried reaching out to a therapist trained in grief and bereavement? If not, I recommend you start by looking here: https://complicatedgrief.columbia.edu/for-the-public/find-a-therapist/. You can also always reach out to your local (or the national) domestic violence hotline for more resources and support. If you are thinking of hurting yourself, or even if you just need someone to talk with, please call the National Suicide Helpline at 1-800-273-8255 or visit their website where you can do a live online chat https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

  12. Cree  February 1, 2021 at 9:43 am Reply

    I lost my baby girl on Monday January 18th. Today is the funeral and it’s all too fresh. She was 21 weeks and 6 days. It’s like a never ending nightmare. I wake up and thank God for the day. But her breathe and life is something I wanted more. I’m grateful for having the opportunity to feel her kicks in the womb and holding her after birth. I guess she was too good for this cruel world.

  13. Natalie  January 25, 2021 at 5:18 am Reply

    I lost my beautiful baby boy Benjamin on Friday. I am heartbroken. I can’t make sense of it. I had the most beautiful pregnancy. I was 38 weeks and five days when he stopped moving. I keep thinking each day will get a bit easier but they are just getting harder. My arms ache to hold him and I can still feel his kicks. The body can be so cruel. I live for the day that I can think of Ben without feeling such grief and sadness. I’m holding on to the fact that I got to see his beautiful face and hold him close to my heart. I hope hearing this helps someone else that they aren’t alone and they aren’t crazy if they are feeling the same way x

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    • Isabelle Siegel  January 25, 2021 at 9:42 am Reply

      Natalie, I’m so sorry for your loss. You may want to check out this article about some of the physical symptoms associated with grief: https://whatsyourgrief.com/physical-grief-symptoms/ I hope you can heed your own advice: You aren’t alone and you aren’t crazy for feeling this way. The pain you’re experiencing is normal and valid. All the best.

    • Barbara  April 28, 2021 at 3:15 am Reply

      I lost my Robert at 38 weeks too… I can’t move on 💔

    • Lynsay  June 4, 2021 at 12:35 pm Reply

      Your story is the exact same as mine and I feel such a connection to your situation. 38 weeks and 5 days as well. No known, heart just stopped. Still in grief 2 years later, and it goes in phases and waves for sure, some are crashing and some are calm. I pray you find peace soon and look forward to the die of cuddling with our angels someday. All you mommies in this thread hold a special place in my heart. Love you all

  14. Deb  October 30, 2020 at 7:06 am Reply

    I’m sorry, I posted my comment in the wrong place. I’m not in a good state of mind right now.

    My daughter Wilhelmina Lee was born still on Monday of this week at 37 weeks. I can’t stop imagining how life should be, how things could be different if I had just gone to the hospital sooner, if I had been more clear about my movement concerns with my doctor. It honestly helps to read stories of other parents wrestling with guilt because I had been feeling like I was the exception, the one who could have done something but didn’t. I’m very much up against a wall right now, and I don’t see it ever getting better. My older daughter and my husband feel like my only reasons for going on right now, but it’s so hard. I want to dream of my Mina but every dream is about what I’m living with now. Loss. Emptiness. I’m acutely aware even in my dreams that my little girl is not coming home. I know it will be a long road to any sort of healing and that I just have to keep going, but the mornings are so hard. I just want to cry and hold her blanket. By the afternoons I can almost pretend to function, but every day is torture. I just want to sleep forever. My husband is distracting himself but he has his moments of acute grief, too. I want him to feel supported but it’s so hard when I feel like I should have died instead of my sweet baby girl. Right now I don’t ever see things getting better. Thanks for sharing your thoughts. I’d be so curious to see how you are doing now. I hope that you have found some moments of light and can move through the world without hitting the wall of grief every moment of every day. I know there’s no going back. We are all different people because of our losses. But I hope for a new normal where the road is not always so dark.

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    • IsabelleS  October 31, 2020 at 1:10 pm Reply

      Deb, I am so so sorry for your loss. My heart truly goes out to you. I want to echo the message of this article: You are not alone in your grief. What you are experiencing is completely normal and valid. Things may not ever get “better,” but they will get easier with time. Please know that there is hope. All the best to you.

  15. Ann Hodges  July 27, 2020 at 5:58 pm Reply

    i lost a baby in December 1996. On my birthday, December 26, we were to hear the heartbeat for the first time. it wasn’t there. i still think about this child and wonder what happened. I lost my identity, my confidence. that day, too, and i never really have found either again. for me the loss of this baby seemed to tell me that my intuition couldn’t be trusted, or that i had failed this little one in such a significant way that i personally couldn’t be trusted. Hard lessons that damaged my psyche in the long run.

    since then i have experienced other losses, but this one sticks with me.

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  16. Kate  February 21, 2020 at 3:46 pm Reply

    Dec 28th we found out my fiancee and I were having twins. I was a single mom of two girls and he has 2 boys from a previous marriage. We were so excited and nervous for our two new family members. Jan 11 2020 I was 18 weeks and started having fluid leaking. I was put on bed rest and was told everything would be fine. My fiancee for the next few weeks was out of town for work. I was sick daily, my dr said it was a cold going around. Taking care for two kids and an elderly mother inlaw, I was always busy. My teenage girls and step father had planned the coolest valentines day surprise which turned out to be the worst day of our lives. They set up a sonogram party on Valentines day 2020. Its only been a week but i feel like im falling apart. Weeks before my doctor said both twins were great. 1 week later at our sonogram party..the tech couldnt find a heart beat..nor were our babies moving. They told us to go to the Local hospital. After the doctor confirming our fears they admited me to induce labor. This was our second still born birth. I can relate to how it feels like to be on the wrong side of the wall. I hate myself everyday I see the disappointment in my partners eyes. I feel so broken, why could I have 3 kids when I was younger now 36 and wanting to with a man I truly love I cant.

    • Valentine  August 25, 2020 at 8:29 am Reply

      I went through something similar to this. Unexpected pregnancy in 2019. My first pregnancy as well. I carried the child full term (41 weeks. Was induced I wasn’t dilating I went for emergency CS woke up and I didn’t see my child, saw him next day in the incubator hooked up to machines was told it’s to assist him breathe as he was in distress at the time of birth. Second day I go visit him only to be told at 6 am that he died in the night. I don’t know who I am without him, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Nothing works, nothing feels as it should. Nothing interests me anymore.

      It truly just feels like I’m stuck behind a wall. And can’t move forward. Even if I could, forward to what? I didn’t get to hold him feel him breathe him in…. and to make matters worse I had a gazillion complications afterwards. For two months after delivery I was in hospital for myriad of issues. It’s tough. It’s bleak. It’s dark. It’s cold.

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  17. Chelsea  January 15, 2020 at 11:16 pm Reply

    My water broke at 6am on Monday, January 13th and after 12 hours of Iabor i was be able to meet my baby boy. Fighter Grant took his first and last breath at 7:19pm. Unfortunately, God took my little one home at 21 weeks and though I am extremely sad for his loss I’m grateful to have bonded with him in these few months and ever more thankful that I was able to hold him in my arms. We have received a multitude of prayers from all across the globe from family, whole congregations, and nurses, doctors, and strangers. From the bottom of my heart thank you for your love. It is received and felt, and made a difference. If my son can hear me in heaven, please know that your life was valued here. “I love you my Fighter.” -Mom
    That’s the message I sent everyone to let them know that I had lost my son. I was just getting comfortable with calling him my son. Literally three days after we found out the baby’s gender. The doctor recommended I terminate the pregnancy or I could suffer complications to my own health. The odds were too stacked against us. The baby’s amniotic fluid was infected and my cervix was already 1cm dilated. If the tried to stitch my cervix the infection could take over my blood stream and if I didn’t get the stitch most likely my cervix would keep opening and I’d miscarry. “Ok so I take him out of me,” I said. “I see babies in incubators all the time.” But they kept saying pregnancy’s aren’t viable at 21 weeks. If he was only two weeks older they said they would try to save him. So I thought ok I’ll wait my two weeks and come back. I won’t dismiss my son, even if it means I’m risking my life. The doctor warned again that even if we wait the two weeks we would likely have a baby that would suffer a host of complications and live in the hospital for months. That’s when the room divided for my boyfriend and I. What kind of complications? I thought about it and I was willing to take a shot no matter what I wanted my baby, but my boyfriend struggled with the idea of bringing his first son into the world without a fare chance. Chel, we can’t be selfish here. Was I being selfish though? I just needed more time and I prayed for God to intervene here for a miracle. The doctors sent me home with a list of symptoms to look out for in case I was developing sepsis or having a miscarriage. Like many moms in panic, I tried to drink a lot of water. I was trying to flush out any toxins make the fluid healthy again for my baby. I got up to pee at 6 in the morning and saw a little pink spot when I wiped. I started to think something might be wrong. I was trying to remember if I felt my baby move during the night. Before I could make my tenth step outside of the bathroom I felt a gush of water coming down my leg and then blood. I sobbed in the ambulance and wailed when I got to the hospital. “This baby is most likely already dead ma’am.” I asked them to check his heart beat and they said even if he was alive his undeveloped lungs would explode with the first breath of air he took. “A pregnancy at 21 weeks is not viable ma’am.” It was the last hour and I thought maybe one more time I’d try to advocate for his life, after all I was his mother. With tears in my eyes I told the doctor she was lying. There are babies that survive at 21 weeks and you know that. She said “im very sorry, but I don’t know of any.”
    They induced my labor and I waited for my son. They told me he will not be the size of a regular baby or look like a regular baby because he’s so little. I wanted to see him anyway. My mom and my boyfriend waited with me in the room as the contractions came in. I received phone calls from everyone telling me there’s still hope. It’s not that I didn’t believe; it’s just there was so much blood. “Is he still alive in there?” I didn’t know. After ten hours my boyfriend and mom started to get anxious. How could he be so small but take long to come out? My boyfriend said he’s going to leave and come back since it looks like we were going to be there all night. My mom stepped out to get a cup of tea. It was in my solitude that he entered this world. I thought part was special. I had a moment with just me and him. When the nurses came in the were in frenzy getting the this and the that. I was so calm. They dressed him in his little hat and blanket and cleaned him up before the gave him to me. He was so small. I pray I don’t forget his face. I saw everything I ever wished for him to be. I counted his toes and fingers. Admired his lengthy arms. I saw his father in his face. His body was still warm. I loved him. People kept telling me it’s ok you’ll have another chance at a baby. But my boy was supposed to be my miracle baby. He was supposed to make it. A little shy of five months in we thought we were in the clear. I’m still trying to process. I don’t have a conclusion. Though I tried to deliver the news to my family and friends in the most dignified way possible, I’m a mess. I don’t feel strong. I feel lost. I feel like I want to float away and be covered in rain. I feel like I want to try again. I feel like I’m too scared to. I feel hurt for my boyfriend. I feel shame. I feel everything.

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  18. Aurora Cabral-Cree  December 20, 2019 at 10:27 pm Reply

    My heart breaks for all of us who have suffered the loss of a child. I have joined a sisterhood I asked for no invitation. My son Aiden was born asleep on December 7, 2019, he was 24 weeks and one day. It’s been 13 days since we lost our son. I have a 9 year old and when I found out we were pregnant I was scared. I’m 40 yrs old and never in a million years would I had thought I would be pregnant at this age. I guess I felt lucky we had Drew since they had told us it would be medically impossible to have children. Here I was almost 10 years later, pregnant with our second miracle baby. My son was so excited he was finally going to be a big brother. I was scared at first but then in that split second fell in love with the little embryo inside me. We bleed at 8 weeks and I thought we’d lost him but much to our surprise the doctor came in and gave great news. Baby heart rate was 164 and perfect. At 13 weeks our ultra sound showed little fluid around the baby, I have a bicornuate uterus and there was fluid in the right horn but not around the baby who was in the left horn. They told us we had to wait two weeks and see what happens. I drank 150 oz of water every day in hopes I could help my baby. At 15 weeks we saw him again, ultra sounds was perfect, he was swimming away. My next scan at 21 weeks showed he was struggling but they didn’t know why, again all the doctor would say is we need to wait. I decided to look for a new specialist, they couldn’t get me for two weeks. I needed my anatomy ultrasound so they scheduled it for 12/02. Monday 12/02 came and I was on my way to the appointment when I got a call. The ultrasound tech was sick and my appointment was canceled. It was rescheduled for Thursday 12/05 and again it was canceled, tech was still sick. My mama bear kicked in and I demanded an ultrasound. I was referred to Simon Med the following day, 12/06. I still felt Aiden kicking away that night 12/05, he liked when I played Spanish music and I know this because he would become more active when I put the speaker near my belly for him. That night I felt like I wanted to jump out of my skin, I assumed I was nervous about the ultrasound I was going to have the next day. Friday 12/06 we went to my appointment, I felt Aiden that morning but not much movement as we got to Simon Med , I looked around to see if I could find a snack to help wake him up but I had no luck finding anything. I remember the tech was quiet for most of my appointment. When she finished I asked her If she could tell me his heart rate, she said no only the doctor could tell me. My heart sank I began to panic, my husband tried to calm me down but I wasn’t having it. We decided to head to the hospital, the drive to the hospital seemed to take forever. We finally got there, they got me in right away. The nurse tried using the fetal heart monitor but had trouble finding a heart beat for Aiden so the called the doctor. He came in and brought ultrasound machine with him. He said look there’s his heart beat and assured me it was there. 5 minutes later a different doctor came in, she checked again,that’s when I heard those dreaded words, ‘’I’m sorry but we can’t find a heartbeat for Aiden’’. My world crashed, I saw the pain in my husband’s eyes…I felt like such a failure. My job was to protect him and I failed. I was admitted that afternoon and they began to induce me. Aiden was born asleep on 12/07/2019 at 1;15 pm. My baby boy was perfect, when the doctor went to cut his umbilical cord the reason for his demise was evident, he had a tight knot around his umbilical cord that was never spotted in any of his ultrasounds. My baby died because of a fluke accident, his cord was longer than usual which made it a high risk for knots in cord. We laid Aiden to rest on 12/16, we had a catholic mass for him.

    Dear friend, you said it perfect when you said “ The me I used to know is on the other side of the wall, holding his memory in happiness and trying somehow to live up to it.“ I feel so lost, I feel guilty because I have a son at home who has watched me cry on a daily basis for his brother and he has no idea how to help me. He always asks me “mommy what can I do to take your pain away”…I stay silent until I can build up the courage to tell him he makes me happy and not to worry about me. I have a supporting husband who cares for me and puts his pain to the side so that he can be the strong one for us. Thank you for sharing your story, you’ve put my feelings into words when I couldn’t. Thank you.

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    • Antoinette  January 4, 2020 at 10:04 pm Reply

      My baby was born still at 5 months. Honestly it’s been 19 years but its still heavy on me. I have but stuck every since then. I think about it everyday. Over the years i have become numb to emotion. I don’t cry when i should, i cant even verbalize how i feel sometimes. I have not even been open to talking about it, because honestly unless it happened to you one would never really understand. Im glad i came across this i am behind with moving forward in the healing process again its been 19 yrs, but im ready.

      • R. W.  June 11, 2021 at 10:59 am

        After I read this post, I decided to go through all the comments before leaving one myself. After maybe half an hour and a lot more crying, I started scrolling and scrolling and I don’t think I was even 1/5 of the way through the comments here. You are all some of the best people that I’ve found to talk about these feelings in a way that feels so true to what I’ve been experiencing for the last 3 years, 3 months, and I will probably return again in the times I feel most weak and read more of your stories.

        My baby never became my child, but he never stopped being my future. I’m wondering what it is about 21 weeks because I see it in a lot of these accounts. My heart breaks open for those who were even further when it happened. Mine was just barely still early enough that we really weren’t given any real options, and sometimes that feels like a kindness.

        It still feels like my fault. I can’t ever stop thinking that if I were a doctor giving the news to someone that their baby was going to die, there’s no way I would say anything other than that it was inevitable and unavoidable.

        I feel guilty all over again when I try to talk through these feelings with someone. I don’t think anyone who hasn’t been through this can really understand the wall. Even as the memory of seeing his face and holding his tiny hands becomes xeroxed over and over as a memory of a memory of a memory, I’m still stuck. It’s like the memory of my true self becomes just as faded. That’s exactly what I think is happening.

        The last happy moment I can still feel in my memory is when I first saw him. When I wish for him back, I don’t wish for him any differently, I would take him blood red and palm sized. He was so good as he was. I don’t know what to do.

        I do keep going. I had the better education, and my partner and I were both without solid employment when he was born. I got the call from the recruiter while in the hospital, letting me know I got the interview I’d been hoping for. I was working full time 2 months later. It’s a good job and I know we could have made it work. It was hard to not let coworkers see me crying. I was terrified of having to tell them why.

        My partner still thinks we can do it again, but I have spent the last three years coming to terms with my two greatest griefs; that the first time was an anomaly and I’ve only become more infertile since then than I already was, and that I will never get back the person who is trapped behind that wall.

        I have been through outpatient mental health hospitalization, put so much money into therapy and medication, and I’ve learned to accept it most of the time. I’m going to be this new version of myself for the rest of my life. I think it makes sense in a way, because if everything had gone to plan, I’d still be a different person today with my 2 year 5 month old child than I was during the pregnancy, just like when we first found out about him I started to become that better version of myself, that ultimately got burried with him.

        Everyone dies and is reborn constantly, and our memories are the thread that lets us look back at our path with something that resembles clarity in our fragile memories. I have to wonder if what makes us different is that we can’t help but see how true that is, because at some point, that thread got cut and we had to start over from a broken place, and everything before that feels like another life because it was. That’s not something people are supposed to know.

        That’s my contribution to this wall of beautiful people showing their broken hearts to strangers. Mine feels a bit rotten and bitter in comparison so if you’re reading this one first, you should probably keep going. I wish my comment would stay up top forever, because I wish this would never happen to anyone else ever again.

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      • Jo  October 10, 2022 at 8:15 pm

        My boy was born sleeping in Dec 1989. He had a two year old big sister and I subsequently went on to have 3 more children. All now adult.
        The empty space inside me has never felt complete, it now er will. I can honestly say I think of him every single day, all his siblings think of him as their brother, even those born after him.
        I frequently wonder how he would look now, act now, bur also feel safe in the knowledge that one day, when I’ve done my time on this earth, I will be able to hold him again.. somehow I know that fir sure. I cant “miss him as I only knew him for 42 weeks. I was only person who felt him live, I am so grateful for that.
        If my family is a jigsaw, the large main piece is missing, lost, gone.
        My life, this life, although a mum and a Nan.. I work and do all the normal stuff.
        But I will never be/feel complete. Ever. X

    • Nicholas Mommy forever  August 18, 2020 at 6:28 pm Reply

      Aurora,
      I just reread my post from last year and I saw that you sent me a virtual hug. I’m sending you a great big virtual hug back I read your post after I saw your response to mine. I really resonated with your story. We are almost to one year of our sons death. I’m glad he was so perfect and you got to hold him. That is something that I regret. Take care.

  19. Eve  December 13, 2019 at 5:08 am Reply

    I had posted a comment showing my birth certificate and on the certificate the Dr. types girl born dead and xxxxx it out so sloppy and typed above it born alive because I swallowed so much fluid coming out of my moms uterus that I stopped breathing but Dr, worked on me and I started breathing but it really upset me because my parents couldn’t decide on a name! They named me weeks after we were home! And my mom never took the time to have my name put on the birth certificate so the nurse put Baby Girl Waller as my name! I got married and had to have one made but never legally in the court house down town where a Judge quickly married us! Just made me feel that I didn’t have a identity because she took the time to name my other 4 brothers and sisters! So yes a attorney did a lot of work about the birth certificate but I was born dead but I was worked on and started breathing again! I think the Dr. did a sloppy jobE of filling my birth certificate out by XX X Oh my God it out and typing over the born dead to typing born alive!

  20. Jeydy  December 9, 2019 at 3:55 pm Reply

    I’m sorry. I’m glad you wrote this article because it is exactly how I feel but I couldn’t put it in words. I lost my baby Rosie at 21 weeks, stillborn too. I didn’t really take time off anything, I went right back to work and tried to get as busy as I could but the pain never went away, this is a subject my husband and I can’t touch because we couldn’t deal with her loss together.
    It’s been a year and I feel dead inside, nothing brings joy to my life, all days are the same, and some time I wish I didn’t wake up.
    I became a cold person, I have nothing left of what I once was, I miss my old me, well I miss her even more, but I came to the conclusion that she is in a better place and I know that we will be together once again and this time for a life time.
    Well I hope you’re doing better!

    Maybe that wall would brake once we have the chance to become a mom one more time, and that time have the opportunity to take care of our kid, maybe then, we will be able to find our old us on the other side of the wall.

  21. Kat  December 3, 2019 at 11:01 am Reply

    I’m so sorry to hear of everyone’s losses. I know how raw and painful this is as my husband and I are grieving our beautiful baby girl, Mia. We had a perfectly healthy pregnancy up until my 39th week. I hadn’t felt Mia at her usual, predictable times of movement. I thought I was being paranoid. I bought time candy to “wake her up” and to reassure myself she was fine. I didn’t feel anything. But we had just visited the doctor and everything was fine. Our appointment was the next day so I didn’t want to seem neurotic. The next day I begged Mia to “kick mommy” I co fixed in my husband and co workers about how I didn’t feel her move yesterday. After calling my doctor and being told to go to the hospital, we did just that. I felt Mia on the way there and stupidly told my husband to go to our OB’s office for our routine weekly appt. We were told to go to the hospital as our doctor was there delivering anyway. We did. Confidently I just felt my baby move. All was fine. After registering at the triage they took me right away. And that was the darkest moment of my life. “I’m sorry. Your baby had no heartbeat.” I’ll never forget the doctors face or looks of fear in the nurses eyes. I couldn’t cry. I was in shock. This isn’t my life. This isn’t real. It still doesn’t feel real. After hours of sitting in shock and processing what had happened, my husband and I decided to have me be induced. At 11:20a.m on November 8, 2019 my sweet girl was born. She was perfect. My heart aches everyday. I’m hoping to find strength in this tragedy. Reading stories of stillborn babies is devastating. My heart goes out to all women who are suffering. Thank you for sharing your stories so women like myself can not feel so alone.

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  22. Chana M Johnson  December 2, 2019 at 11:19 am Reply

    Today would be my daughter Maia’s 7th birthday. She is the youngest of my four kids. She was stillborn at 6 weeks, when I was in labor. I have learned to move forward and while I am not still weighed down by the crushing grief, or frozen in the cloud of confusion, it’s not because those things went away… because they don’t. Not really. You just get stronger and you see clearer, if that makes sense. I carry the grief with me… it no longer slows me down or stops me, but it’s always there. I honestly thought that one day I’d feel like my old self again- but as this write has pointed out, she’s on the other side of a wall. She’s my “before”; I am now in my “after”, and I can only move forward from that point. Today I feel sad, and wistful, and I miss my girl. Today I don’t want to do anything or go anywhere. Last year, I did- I moved through the day just fine, thinking of her, talking to her, wishing her a happy birthday in Heaven (where I believe her to be). This year, you’d think it would be easier but grief is… unpredictable and patient. So very patient. And it never really leaves, because you carry that love with you, always.

    For the past couple of days my 10 year old son (who was just 3 when she died) has been reprocessing some of the things he remembers. It’s hard for kids, because as they grow, they tend to re-grieve; not always with the sadness it brings, but with the understanding. He walked in yesterday and announced to me that 7 years ago, when he was three and holding his sister, she was dead and he had just realized that. Just bluntly put it out there, and I was a bit taken aback at first but then not really, because again- little kids are so matter-of-fact and for him, there’s no deep emotion in it because he was barely three when it happened; it’s just an event that he’s reporting on, that he’s finally understanding the details of. For me though, it was a bit jarring to hear it stated so directly, even though I know it’s the truth. It’s those moments that I have experienced over the past 7 years that are sometimes the hardest, because kids are incredibly honest and just want to understand; they’re not trying to be callous. He’s just starting to understand the hurt that such an event might cause; his intention wasn’t to offend- but still, it’s hard to parent while you grieve. It’s still hard to parent and grieve, even 7 years later.

    Anyway- I feel like much of that was ramble-y, and I apologize if it was. Those of you who are just beginning this journey, it will get easier to carry the load. Not because it gets any lighter, but because you will get stronger. Be gentle with yourselves.

  23. Ims  December 2, 2019 at 9:54 am Reply

    Thanks for sharing your story. I am so lost after losing our daughter at 38 weeks. 12 oct we rushed to the hospital after I felt no movement and I just knew something was wrong. We got there and there was no more heartbeat. My world has come crashing down since then. This was our firstborn and being a mother was all i ever wanted, it was the most amazing pregnancy and I was truly happy and blessed. Now I am a wreck, I have empty arms and a broken heart. I cannot bare leaving the house and seeing mothers with their children and babies. I am ready to try again ASAP, my husband agreed to this but has since changed his mind, saying he needs time. I can’t cope with this. Getting pregnant again or at least trying is the only thing that gives me hope and helps me make these days bare-able. I know he’s also hurting but I need this to be able to move on and not to be stuck in this dark place. I don’t know how to convince him. Every day is a reminder of being a mother without a baby and it’s too much to handle.

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  24. Reny  November 29, 2019 at 3:28 am Reply

    I lost my little girl Mila exactly one week ago at 28 weeks. She stopped growing at 23 weeks, and was only 550gr at birth. We had to induce labour with low survival chance. My little girl was perfect, with a strong heart, and so beautiful when I saw her at birth. But my body couldn’t support her long enough to give her a fighting chance, and it feels like I betrayed her. At 30 yo, this was my first pregnancy, and it was after IVF, and now it feels like time has slipped away, and everything is lost forever.
    I don’t want to move on like everyone expects, and I still hope this is just a bad dream I will wake up from. Nothing excites me anymore, and I do things mechanically, because my mind is with her. I only had a few short moments with her, and I am terrified I will forget what she looked like. Everything I do will now be marked by thoughts of what could have been if she was still with me.
    I never knew I wanted to be a mom so much before she came into our lives, but for those 7 months I was the happiest girl, full of love and ready to give her everything to make sure she is happy and well. Now my arms are empty and my heart is shattered, and that wall is there. Out of all the forums and articles I’ve been reading through during the past weeks, this one describes everything better than I ever could. Thank you for writing it Alex!
    You ladies are all incredibly strong, and I am so sorry for the loss you all went through. I don’t understand why our little angels had to be created, only to suffer and die. I hope and pray there is a way to live this life once again, but I can’t imagine how.

  25. Nicholas Mommy forever  October 10, 2019 at 2:22 pm Reply

    My heart goes out to you and your son Robin. I feel bad for all of the families that have lost their child or children. My son Nicholas died still inside of me last Friday October 4, 2019. On August 14 an adult student at work threw a tempertantrum and slammed her body and elbow into my stomach. I was sent to the hospital by my work. They said everything was fine that the baby was fine. I was on bed rest for 2.5 weeks. I was cleared to go back to work. My boyfriend and I were very excited to go to the 5 months scan at 21 weeks to find out if we were having a boy or girl. I told my boyfriend I was scared something was wrong with our baby that morning. First he tried to brush it off and then he said you’re right we haven’t been in awhile. We went to our appointment and the technician was quiet and looked freaked out. He told us there was low fluid. But our son had a very healthy heartbeat of 137. I could still feel my son kick a half our after I eat. My obgyn sent me to a specialist the next day. That night I drank at least 9 water bottles. My boyfriend told me that if we have to make a decision between my life and the babies it would be mine. He said he can’t live without me. When we went to see the ultrasound the next day the technician said there was no fluid around the baby and that our son had a hole in his heart. She said the baby was measuring 18 weeks 5 days. The doctor told us to abort or let the baby die naturally. My boyfriend said no he doesn’t want us to go through child birth for a dead baby. I said I wanted to do whatever I could to save our baby. The doctor said that with no amniotic fluid the babies lungs won’t develop and survive heart surgery. So we went home with an appointment to have the baby removed on October 4th. I didnt want this and planned on canceling the appointment and talking it thru with my boyfriend. I feel terrible that I didn’t know I had a slow amniotic leak starting from the time I got injured at work. The ultrasound at the hospital was in a different network than my doctor’s so they couldn’t compare ultrasounds. I thought I was peeing a little bit in my pants. I just kept changing my clothes and then started wearing a pad. I then had to face the fact I only had one week left with my son. So I read him stories while I rubbed my tummy. I told Nicholas about all the things we wanted to do with him. All the places we would go. I told him about all the family members and friends who were excited to meet him. I took him to his room and told him how we we’re going to decorate it and told him about all the things we already have for him. My poor son had no amniotic fluid to comfort him. I cried and told him I’m so sorry for any pain he’s going thru. I told him if there’s anything we could do to save him we would do it. I spent hours researching on the internet for a way to save our son. I reached out to my friends and they said they would pray for us. I hadn’t been to work. How can I go to work knowing my son was going to die? I kept drinking a ton of water. I made sure I ate the yummiest foods possible. Because at this point my son is still alive and is able to taste food and hear. My soul was crushed and I wanted to shut down and stop eating. I still needed to respect my baby and love him for whatever amount of time I have with him. My boyfriend struggled bad in all of this. I would wake up at 2 or 3 in the morning and he would be in the dining room with his head in his hands crying. He would have nightmares and he still does. The first day after our news he couldn’t bare to look at my stomach or talk to and kiss our baby. He called me on Monday September 30th. He said we need to get another opinion. I cried and thanked him for loving our son enough. I went back to my obgyn to get a referral. He told me that he agreed with the specialist. He let me listen to my son’s heartbeat. It was a strong 140. He told me there’s no way for the baby to survive. He told me to keep the appointment on Friday. He said I would hemorrhage if I had to go into labor because of my low lying placenta. He gave me 5 weeks off of work. My boyfriend called me on October 2nd. He was at work and he freaked out because he heard and saw a baby crying that wasn’t there. He left the place with a full panic attack. He called me saying he just wanted to tell me he loved me in case he died. So my boyfriend and I we told Nicholas how much we love him and his dad either cooked for him or took us to restaurants so baby could taste good foods. I continued to read and talk to my son. On October 4th we had to get up early to go to the hospital. I could still feel my son was alive on the way over. While we waited in the lobby I knew my baby died. I didn’t tell my boyfriend. He just held me and tried to comfort me. He was worried I wouldn’t survive this surgery. As I transferred to the operating table I could feel my son’s spinal cord jammed into my stomach. They were trying to give me anesthesia saying it was only oxygen. I freaked out and pushed it away. I put my hand over my baby once more to rub his back. I said my baby just died this morning and I wanted to say goodbye. After the procedure later that day the doctor that did the surgery. He called me and told me that my son had died before the surgery. He said that when he looked at the ultrasound my son’s heart had stopped. He said he wanted me to know because I said I wanted my son to die naturally if he had to die at all. I told him thank you but I knew. So here it is 6 days later. I can’t stop crying. My boyfriend doesn’t want me to set foot back at my job. I don’t think I can work at a place again where a student is responsible for my son’s death. I’m 43 years old. This was a miracle baby with the first healthy man I’ve ever loved. The only other man I’ve ever been with committed 5 felonies against me and left me for dead at 25. It took me 13 years to find this man who loves me like I deserve. I have a beautiful daughter who turned 20 on October 7th. When I read about the old me on the other side of the wall I cried. My boyfriend comforts me everyday and is patient. But a part of me worries he will leave if I can’t ever be myself again. I don’t want to eat cuz I can’t feel him kicking anymore. I don’t want to sleep cuz I dream he is saved. Then I wake up and cry saying, “Where’s my baby? Where’s my son?” I don’t want to go anywhere and I try to hide if I see someone I know cuz I don’t want to hear another person say it’s God’s will or God has a plan. It makes me feel like they’re saying my son didn’t deserve to live. It makes me feel like I’m alone in my grief. It’s the stupidest thing to say to anyone. It doesn’t help. It hurts and it puts a wall between you and these very well meaning friends and family of yours.

    • Aprillia  November 15, 2019 at 2:52 am Reply

      I am so so sorry for your loss. Your experience just broke my heart. What shone through was how much you loved your little boy and how you gave him the best life you could even though it was much too short. My baby girl was still born in August. I miss her so much.

      • Nicholas Mommy forever  August 18, 2020 at 6:16 pm

        Aprillia,
        Thank you for your kind words. I haven’t looked at this page in a long time. A wave of fresh tears and grief consumed me rereading my post. Thank you for validating how much love I gave my son in the time that I had.

    • Aurora Cabral-Cree  December 20, 2019 at 11:40 pm Reply

      My heart breaks for you, I wish I could give you a hug.

  26. Lauren Short  October 6, 2019 at 8:49 pm Reply

    Thank your for writing this piece. I lost my son, Jaden, at 23 weeks in July. You wrote exactly how I feel and could not put into words. I don’t know how to answer “Are you ok?” because I don’t know what that looks like anymore. I’m back to work and successfully functioning, but there is this deep dark pain inside me and a loss of myself I am almost scared to admit. Now when someone asks me, I send your writing. Thank you for sharing a piece of yourself with us. May we all find the strength towards finding our identity within this new normal.

  27. Mia  September 28, 2019 at 3:47 pm Reply

    God, this is heartbreaking! It’s been 5 weeks and 3 days since I lost my baby girl… She was almost to full term… 39 weeks and 6 days. We were so prepared for her, and were so excited we were soon to hold her in our arms… Our first baby. I kept imagining what she would look like, how I will be as a mother, my husband was already making plans in taking her in his trips to the mountains.
    Last appointment at the doctor was as week 38, and everything was OK. She was growing healthy and preparing to the outside world. There was nothing to predict what would come.
    It was midnight and I felt my water breaking. Jumped out of bed and woke my husband excited that the very much expected moment has come. Asked him to turn on the light and that was the moment my whole world started shaking and the sky fell down on me… There was blood everywhere. I knew this wasn’t right. We rushed to the hospital with the ambulance and shortly got an emergency C-section. When I woke up from anesthesia, my husband told me the most hurtful words a mother can hear: she’s gone…. I just wanted to die and go to her…
    I had placental abruprion, with no symptoms, nothing to signal me that something was wrong. She was born alive, but nothing could be done for her. She swallowed to much blood and there was blood and amniotic fluid in her lungs and she was brain dead.
    I didn’t see her, and we decided to let her at the hospital to be incinerated… I still regret our choice.
    I cannot find myself anymore, sometimes I can’t find a reason to live. Even though my husband is trying his very best to be a strong support for me, I cannot look into the future and can’t accept that this is the reality. Still think it’s a nightmare and I just can’t wake up.
    Finding your story and the stories of all of you angel moms, is making me feel like I belong somewhere… Even though we have our own stories, we deal with them in our own ways, but I somehow feel connected with each of you.
    I wish you all the strength to find at least a reason to live and move forward. All our babies are up in heaven playing with each other, this is what is connecting us all!
    Thank you for sharing your stories, thank you for being here!

    1
    • Ashley Walter  October 8, 2019 at 5:29 pm Reply

      MIA – Thanks for sharing your birth story. I am so very sorry for your loss and the pain you are going through. I have a similar story. Last month, I found out at 37 weeks that my son, Alexander, no longer had a heart beat. I had noticed no fetal movement for several days prior but didn’t think much of it. That same day I went into labor and delivered him. I didn’t look at him because I was afraid of how he would look and what it would do to me. The question mark of not seeing his face and not holding him is my biggest regret. This has been the most traumatic event of my entire life (more traumatic than the loss of my mother, and the loss of another baby at 5 months gestation several years ago). Many women say that loosing a baby makes you love your family more, personally I struggle feeling incomplete and empty even though I have a wonderful support group of friend, husband, and two children that I love. I feel the deepest sympathy for you and anyone who has lived through this kind of trauma.

      • Mia  October 13, 2019 at 10:33 am

        Hey Ashley, I am so moved to hear about your story… Any story that is similar to mine is making me cry for hours… I know that “mother of an angel” club is the only club you wouldn’t want to be in but it’s where you can find the only souls that can truly and fully understand you. I am sorry for your loss. I know that there are no words or things that can help you in any way right now… Or ever…. But all I can tell you is that you need to be strong for your family’s sake. I am trying to get better as soon as possible (as I had an emergency C-section) so I can make a baby brother or sister to my angel Sofia, to whon I will tell stories about their angel sibling who is playing with other angels in heaven and watches over us. Take care Ashley! Wish you peace and strength to at least try to overcome this tragedy

    • Shirley  January 14, 2020 at 5:34 am Reply

      MIA, we lost our first baby boy Adrian a week ago at 39+4wks. He was born sleeping at our house we prepared for him. We were so excited to meet him in outside world but I couldn’t bring him here. I feel so empty and lonely even though my husbands trying hard to help me move on… Part of me wanted to move on our life as soon as possible but part of me wanted to keep our son in mind every minutes of my life… I don’t know what to think and what to do…

  28. Harriet Adjei  September 6, 2019 at 11:12 pm Reply

    Went to the doctor for a check up on 03/09/2019
    N she said there was no heartbeat.
    I couldn’t talk… lost my tongue, tears just started flowing
    Kept a living soul in me for 24 weeks with all the bad symptoms, I had hope that when she is born it would all be worth it… now she is gone and I don’t know anymore.
    Was rushed to a bigger hospital and had to deliver.
    I was praying what the doctors said would be a lie I was hoping to hear a cry or a sign of life.
    They wrapped her n gave her to me… I kept staring still couldn’t believe it.
    So little and lifeless, so innocent.
    I just hope she was at peace.
    Never been to a funeral or saw a dead body before n never thought my first would be my own baby! This is harder than it looks!

  29. Tara  September 3, 2019 at 10:44 am Reply

    I lost my beautiful perfect in every way angel 11 months ago. He was 22 weeks and died on Sept 22 2018. We named him Diniel after the angel who watches over infants. He was like a mini me of my husband. His face, hands, feet, everything down to the gorgeous cowlik on his head were a spitting image of my husband. I have never been the same since losing him. My husband and I have been together 12 years and we are so in love. I have a 14 year old son whom he has helped me to raise. This baby was going to complete our family. I am going to be 40 in a few months and I don’t know what to do with myself. We had a miscarriage at 9 weeks before the one we lost. Then we had Diniel- a stillbirth and then two miscarriages since. I have been telling myself that everything will be okay and my baby will come but now after this last miscarriage I am devastated. I have to figure out what my next steps are. I am turning 40 this year and feel like I have passed the point of no return. I have to figure out if I really want a baby or if I want to just say forget it because maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. The identity crisis is real! This is the most difficult thing I have ever been through, and I have been through plenty! One person’s comment on here was to the effect of looking at this as a time to re-invent who you are and who you want to be. I guess that would be a positive way of looking at it. I just don’t want to give up on having a baby and then regret it in the future. There’s a hole in my heart that will never be filled and how do I go on and get back to being happy again? I was so sure that I wanted to take this step with my husband and have a child together. I have always wondered what it would be like to have a child with someone that you truly love and have a partnership with. Half me and half him. I am really having a hard time making this decision. Pray for me.

  30. Jess  June 11, 2019 at 10:04 pm Reply

    I lost my baby at 21 weeks . The most heart breaking thing . This happened last June and it still breaks my heart . The doctors don’t no what happened she just had no heart beat . My heart is forever broken..

  31. Suzanne  June 1, 2019 at 5:09 pm Reply

    This is the first article I read that puts in to words how it feels. My daughter was Born after 22 weeks, s it is still almost impossible to process what happened. From the moment of ultrasound to giving bieth. Just after meeting her you are still in the moment of how proud you are, how beautiful your baby is and how much you love her. And after that it hits you, the pain, the guilt and the loss of expectation in every way. You have no purpose left, the world around you keeps going , understanding of the people around you goes away. It is the loneliest thing I ever went through. I guess that the horrible cliché of time is true, for me its time and therapy. But the fact is that you Will never be te same again, I have to re-invent/rebuild myself, me as I was is completely gone. Thank you so much for sharing and making a difference in my ( and probably more mothers) process.

  32. Mrs. Ross  May 27, 2019 at 10:46 pm Reply

    I’m so glad I found this page, I just lost my twins at 24 weeks gestation. I found out I was pregnant New yrs day! 2019! Me, My husband and my son just moved to a new city and pregnancy was the last thing on mind. My 1st docs appt was Jan 31st. That day I found out we were having twins! I’m not gone lie I was terrified! The thought of one baby but two at one time-OMG!!!!! Month 4 I found out it was girls-my son was excited I’m excited- baby shower booked for July. Appts going every 2 weeks just had one 2weeks prior and things were said to be going well! My babies were growing healthy and strong- Saturday May 5th I felt a strong urge to pee, matter fact it was what I thought urine coming out-sat on the toilet and finish. I didn’t experience pain nor contractions. Thursday May 9th, 4am I the morning I felt pain in my lower abdomen. The pain was coming harder and faster so me and my husband rushed to the hospital and sure enough my sac had ruptured in baby 1 that Saturday I guess and I was 6 cm dilated. Emergency C-Section here we go! My girls were born 1lb 2oz; 1lb 3oz, Alive. Baby B lived for only 48short hrs after developing an infection, baby a lived for 11days giving us hope that we would overcome all odds. Sadly this was not the case! I think about my baby girls hour by hour! I love them and miss them dearly and the future of them not being here with their brother is devastating! I’m praying to be able to carry again, but this is by far the worst and heart wrenching thing I’ve experienced! I’m thankful for my husband and son at least I have someone to hold on too. My baby girls will always be my girls, it’s just so hard to accept!

  33. Chrissy Marie  April 16, 2019 at 1:51 pm Reply

    I lost my little boy at 23 weeks, on March 2nd, 2019. I developed an mild placenta abruption and weeks later the bleeding from that caused my sac to leak and an infection developed, there. My baby was perfectly healthy and thriving/growing, but I lost him anyways, due to the loss of fluid and infection. I’m beyond devastated. I don’t know how to cope with these feelings. Some days I’m ok and others I just cry all day. My only joy comes from being with my husband and two boys; who I’m so blessed to be a mom too. I know some women never experience a live birth, or can even get pregnant. I am so Heartbroken for these women. I know how fickle fertility is. I am eternally grateful I have Been blessed with my both; yet the pain I feel from this loss to so great. The hardest part now (aside from the devastating loss) is running into people who knew I was pregnant and ask “did you have your baby?” Or stare at me for way too long trying to find words to address the fact that I’m no longer pregnant. I want to run and hind and not talk to anyone. this was my fourth pregnancy (with two successful pregnancies). I started to show early on and was feeling my baby move. My boys were so excited to meet their baby brother and cried the most heartbreaking cry when they were told he had gone to heaven…. my husband has been wonderful and so caring yet, as time goes on I still feel distraught and alone. When you carry your child for months and think about them every minute you are pregnant you just feel this absolute loss when they are taken from you. Make no mistake, when he died part of me died… I am crying writing this. I am so sad and at almost 40 the likelyhood I’ll be able to successfully carry a baby again is less likely, by the month and my husband says he does not want to try again, because the everything that happened has been so traumatizing. Yet, I can only think about getting pregnant as soon as possible…I don’t know how to move past this. I know it takes time, but this loss has forever changed me. I can’t describe this pain to anyone. It’s the deepest saddest and loss I have ever felt…. I wish losses like these on now one. My heart goes out to you all.

  34. Nancy Slinn  April 8, 2019 at 1:33 am Reply

    Dear Alex,
    I discovered your article about “The Wall” last night while I was doing research for a newsletter I write every month for parents who have lost a baby. My name is Nancy, and like you and so many others, I had a pregnancy which ended in stillbirth. That was twenty-four years ago last month.
    Your words touched me deeply. I wished that I could reach through the computer and give you a hug. Your description of what you went (and are going) through was so perfect, and reflected not only my personal experience but also that of so many of parents I have encountered over the years.
    I want you to know that you were right in saying that time does help to knock down that wall, but there are other factors as well. On the other side of that wall are all those who love and want to support you, and what you can’t yet see is that each one of us holds a chisel, painstakingly working at chipping away the barrier between us and you.
    Even without knowing you personally I know there are people out there who love you and want to help you journey towards healing. Many of us may not know how (and sometimes may say the wrong things) but each of us wants to support you and help you heal.
    The words you have written that will hopefully be seen by many bereaved mothers will go a long way to help others heal from their loss as well. This too is a key. When we reach beyond our own pain to help others we discover that our own hurt diminishes. This is a secret that no one knows before they go through a difficult experience, but is surprised to learn as they share their own hurts with those of others.
    Never be afraid to talk about your son. No matter how much time goes by, may you never forget him — he will always be your first-born, the child that taught you more about love in his brief existence than most people will learn in a lifetime.
    Thank you for the courage it took to share your feelings and your son with the world. It is my hope that one day you will be granted the joy of raising a child here on earth that will have a special guardian Angel watching over him/her in heaven.
    (((hugs)))
    Nancy
    Metro Vancouver Empty Cradle Bereaved Parents Society
    Canada

  35. Dipuo Sikhosana  March 13, 2019 at 1:14 pm Reply

    I lost my baby on the 13th of October 2018… Ntando meaning Will is his name. When my doctor told me there was no heartbeat, my first reaction was disbelieving and shifted to me focusing on staying alive… I stayed in ICU for a week and only then did I realise that my baby was gone. Like all of you, I felt guilty, angry, hurt, lost and had a lot of what ifs in my head. I cry when I see someone with their baby, I wish and pray for just one moment with him as I never got to meet him. Its exactly 5months today and I still feel the pain. Question is, will it ever get better?

    • Jill T  May 7, 2019 at 7:42 am Reply

      Dipuo,
      We lost our baby boy Shane the very same day. I hope you have found the last couple months a bit “easier”.
      Sending love

  36. Emily  March 11, 2019 at 3:26 pm Reply

    We lost our daughter, Eden, on New Year’s Eve 2018. She had gastroschisis, which is a birth defect in which the intestines develop outside of the body. From my understanding, most of the time they are operated on after birth, spend 2-8 months in the NICU, but live normal healthy lives. One doctor told me that if a fatality occurs, it’s usually after 28 weeks. Because of her condition, we had doctor’s appointments more frequently than normal. The most recent ultrasound before her death showed that everything was great. They wanted me to carry her to 37 weeks (the maximum time they allow for gastroschisis babies to stay in the womb) unless something changed. Christmas happened, then 4 days later on my 30th birthday, I knew something was wrong and we went to get evaluated at the hospital. When they told me that she had died, my whole world collapsed. I died too. They started the process of inducing me, and I delivered her on 12/31/2018. The day we found out, was the worst day of my life, but every day that has followed has been a close second. Along with the loss of identity, which I don’t even care who I am anymore, I have been feeling anger, jealousy, bitterness, loneliness, not wanting to live, emptiness, and all around the deepest level of depression that I have ever experienced. I go about each day, and some days aren’t bad. Some days I laugh, get excited about whatever, naturally smile, and have hope. Then it goes away and all the negative come back. I go to therapy and hope that I can find something worth living for. I’ll keep living, but I hope I find a purpose and a zeal for life again because this is truly miserable. I’m sorry to anyone who is going through this. It’s just unfair, and I hope that we find our way out of the darkness.

  37. Norah  February 18, 2019 at 3:28 pm Reply

    I have lost my baby 5 days ago on 13 Feb at 23 weeks – stillbirth and my life completely stopped…it’s true that seemes like losing my identity. I don’t like anything that I did before and just can’t figure out how to live. I wake up and just not sure what to do..it’s like I’m not myself. The only thought that makes me feel good is that I want to be pregnant again . I knew for the last 5days before the medical abortion, that wasn’t alive but still in me and I didn’t want to let go. We ve been 5months together and I loved and wanted it….had plans and was looking forward to my due date when we will be together. The hardest thing was to let go via medical abortion waiting for 16 hours. I’m so sad inside..

  38. Ro  January 23, 2019 at 2:57 pm Reply

    I lost my baby girl on Sunday January 20th. I was having contractions every 45 min for two days. I spotted in October and then bleed for a week. I was told I had a issue with my plecenta . It was on top of my cervix. This caused me to have a weaken cervix. Was on bed rest for a week in November and complete bed rest from the 12/30 till 1/20/19. I did everything my doctor told me to. I had three rounds of steroid shots. All to help Spencer grow. Was told at 27 weeks she stopped growing and start my 1st round of steroids. I was scheduled to have a C-section on Jan 2. The morning of I thought my water broke. Went into the hospital to be told they want to give her a few more weeks. I was 32 weeks. Her eyes weren’t developed yet, nor her lungs. I prayed every day. I sadly went home. Bed rest for the next 18 days. My beautiful baby girl was born blue. No crying no movement. They took her right out the room. I didnt even get to hold her. Not sure how much time really went by while I waited alone wondering if she was ok. The doctor came in 1st followed by a nurse. He said he was sorry. Everything after that is just a blur. The nurse held my hand the doctor left and in came another nurse with my baby. They said they were going to to give me some time with her. Encourage me to put her going home outfit on. To hold her. I am happy I had this time with her. To hold her let her hear my voice feel my arms to know how much I wanted her and loved her so very much. I have never felt so alone and broken. I don’t know where to go from here to start picking myself up. Thank you for sharing your story with us.

    • Lo  February 9, 2019 at 9:15 am Reply

      Ro , I am so sorry for your lost . This article kind of helped me but 8 months later , I still feel saddened here and there . I don’t always feel this way but it is still here . I keep myself busy with work and it helps somewhat . You will get through it day by day . I miss my little boy everyday and sometimes I think – how on earth did this happen to me ? I’ve had mostly a good life where bad things didn’t occur and it’s truly the worst thing that has ever happened to me . Let yourself grieve …. … let yourself feel it all … you are loved !!!

  39. Ronna  December 11, 2018 at 9:21 am Reply

    February 24th we lost twins at 8 weeks. The. We got pregnant again with a baby boy. Through his whole pregnancy I had on again off again bleeding. At 12 weeks I thought my water had broke but when we got to the Dr. they confirmed that all was fine. Then we went to our 20 week ultrasound and found out that I had a blood clot between the sac and membranes. Otherwise our baby was perfectly healthy. We had our next apt and I was put on light duty at my job (which is mostly sitting anyway). And told to call if I was bleeding heavy or had any pain. It was thought that pain would be the first sign of anything was to happen. On November 16th I was sitting at work when I felt an odd type of pressure. I stood up to go the bathroom and my water broke. At this time I just assumed that this was the same thing that had happened to us at 12 weeks. So when we got to the hospital I was shocked to hear we had no waters left. Unfortunately I had also dialated. They gave my body every opportunity to stop labor but unfortunately our baby was born at 21 +4. We were told no larger hospital would accept us. We were also told that baby was breech and babies this early often don’t survive a breech birth due to the stress. I prayed to God that if our baby had to come early that he would be born alive long enough for us to hold, that birth would be easy, and that all of our family would get to see him. Ezra’s birth had to be the most peaceful birth I’ve ever had. We felt totally surrounded by love. God’s presence was definitely felt. My husbands family lives six hours away but just happened to be staying at our house. My family was able to make it. And Ezra was born alive and spent 2 hours and 15 minutes with us. This was the hardest day of my life and birthing our baby knowing he was going to die quickly gave us a whole new meaning to Christmas. Knowing God sent his son to earth knowing he would die for our sins. I thank God for the time I had my baby growing in me. For the kicks and turns I felt. For the time we had in the hospital and for the few pictures I have. Since they have to last a lifetime. I could not have made it through this whole ordeal without the support for friends, family, and our loving God.

  40. Crystal Stagg  December 3, 2018 at 3:18 pm Reply

    My first child was born via emergency ceasearen section due to me having toxemia, pre-eclampsia and HELLP Syndtome. He was born at 23 weeks gestation weighing 14.2 ounces. He spent the first 4 1/2 months in NICU and had to have an emergency tracheostomy. After delivering him I was put on a bunch of medications from high blood pressure, depression and birth control shots. There a few months after being home from NICU I found out I was pregnant again ( the OBGYN seems to think that either the combination of all the meds or the dose of birth control shot wasn’t effective). I was told with having HELLP Syndrome the first pregnancy that it could happen again and there was a 75% chance of getting it again but there was also a 25% that it wouldn’t. I shared the news of my second pregnancy with my husband and he filed for divorce. He couldn’t deal with it. Me and my son went to my parents so they could help me take care of my son and help with my second pregnancy. I carried my baby girl almost full term. My eight month doctor visit I had some unusual lower back pain. I let my physician know this and he told me that the baby has probably dropped and that was the pressure I was feeling. I discussed that in a few days I would be travelling to Cincinnati for my sons first airway surgery. He said it was fine for me to travel and we would schedule my c-section when we got back home a week later. My son had his surgery and three days later I was taken to another hospital from Vhilsren’s Hispital to Cincinnati University Hodpital to deliver my daughter. When arriving to the hospital the doctor came in a did an ultrasound. She then turned to me and says,” I’m so sorry I can’t find a heartbeat”. That day and the day I buried my daughter was two of the saddest a days I’ve ever had. On June 8, 2000 I delivered a beautiful little girl whom Insmed Gabrielle Rose. She weighed 4 pounds and was 21 inches long. After a couple days in the hospital I came home to bury her little body. The grief is always there and yes it does come in waves. The hardest part about her dying is others feel uncomfortable about speaking her name. She was apart of me and hearing her name makes me smile and sometimes cry. The one thing I know is one day I’ll get to hold her again.

    • Honoredmom  December 8, 2018 at 9:34 am Reply

      I’m so sorry, Crystal, that Gabrielle Rose is not here with you and her brother. It is very difficult when people, especially family and friends, refuse to acknowledge the existence of your child by omitting her name. Gabrielle Rose was here, she was a person who existed and her life too mattered, and now she is gone and deserves to be mourned.

      Crystal, i’m going to be honest with you. (And I am admitting this also for the ones who may read your comment and feel like how I felt at first). My son, Beloved, was born at 25weeks at 1lb and he lived less than a week. His lungs were too undeveloped. It’s been 4weeks since my Beloved died. I don’t know how to live anymore; I don’t know what comes next. As a matter of fact, I’m uninterested in whatever next could be. So, when I read your story, I was so jealous that your son made it. I cried for a good hour, blaming myself for not taking my Beloved to the hospital where your son survived at 23 weeks and weighing less than my son. I focused on all the ways I must be a horrible mom to have let my son die and not done the best for him like you did. Crystal, I am so sorry that I felt this way at first. I am so sorry because I failed to see you, another mother in pain; I failed to acknowledge the loss of Gabrielle Rose just because your son is alive. I failed to acknowledge also the absence of your husband in a time when you needed him. All so difficult and painful things. Please forgive me and accept my apology. I am so glad that you have your son and while he cannot replace Gabrielle Rose, he still gets to be a big brother to a beautiful, sweet angel, and you a mother to her.
      I pray this grief does not overwhelm me to selfishness and insensitivity.

  41. Krista Shawcroft  November 25, 2018 at 2:28 am Reply

    Please please please if you are feeling lost and like hope is gone, visit my blog. I have lost a baby at 22 weeks, one at 21 weeks, one at 17 weeks, twin at 10 weeks, and we lost our 9 day old baby girl and almost 1 year old baby boy. I’m not trying to trump anyone else’s loss. It hurts my heart so much to hear so many others dealing with this unspeakable grief. I KNOW it all feels hopeless. Like you can never be happy again. Like you can’t even remember what it’s like to be happy. I know what it feels like to have your milk come in full force, then have to wrap yourself and sob through the engorgement pain. I know what it’s like to miss your baby so much you can’t breathe. It’s important to allow yourself time to grieve in your own way.
    BUT, there is STILL HOPE. Never ever stop believing that. Even if you don’t believe it right now, start with a DESIRE to believe. The pain will lessen. The clouds will part and you’ll start to see slivers of light again, even if it’s only a fleeting moment.
    And please, if anyone would like to reach out to me, anytime, day or night, I am here. . My blog is called danceamidstthestorm.blogspot.com. Hang in there friends. ❤❤❤

  42. Max  November 8, 2018 at 8:40 pm Reply

    I lost him 7 year ago. The pain will never again, it comes in waves. As far as identity goes you become a new person. I new when he died that the old me died with him. I now live with hole in my heart – a massive, irreparable hole. But I can reassure you that you will learn to be the new you.
    You will laugh again, love with all your heart without the fear and anxiety of it all being taken away. The wave of grief, the numbness will slap you in the face from the time to time. I think about him every single day and the new me had to come to terms with the fact that this grief will last a long time but in the midst of it all you will one day find yourself laughing and enjoying life again. Be patient, take care of yourself, allow yourself to mourn and find the support you need to transition to the new you.

  43. Tori  October 24, 2018 at 2:20 pm Reply

    I dont even know where to start. I am so sorry for your loss, pain, grief, sadness, hurting, everything. I lost my little Gemma Bella 1 week and 2 days ago and I feel like my life has ended. She was perfectly healthy and I had just been to the doctor the week before and had a doctor’s appointment that Tuesday. The day after she was delivered. I kept getting those reminder texts and calls while in the hospital being induced and I had to turn off my phone. My little girl was 34 weeks. We were counting down the days on cloud nine. Had her clothes all washed and put away, her first Christmas outfit picked out. Her matching little sister and big brother shirts for the day we took her home. Her cute hats and bows. Oh God.
    She looked just like her big brother who was over the moon for a little sister. We were at the post office one day and there was this little girl, about 3 months who just kept smiling at him. Even the guy behind us in line was like wow she is really taken by him. He grabbed my hand jumped up and down and said , Mommy I cant wait for baby sister to come!” Every Sunday we would watch the videos on my phone e of how she was growing a d what new things were happening. Now all of that is shattered. I cant eat, I cant breathe and waking up in the morning is torture and I cant leave my bed. I am so thankful for my son however. He is a blessing from God and has been such a help. His name is Dominic. Gemma and Dominic’s dad has been ok but he doesnt get the pain like I do. And I feel so alone. The funny thing is is that I just want to be alone. I just recently turned my phone back on. I only want to see him and my son and of course have my baby girl here with me. Doing tummy time, feeding her, playing with her. Watching my son bond with her. I cant do this and I am furious with God. I dont even know if I am making any sense right now. This pain is unbearable. I am 40 and would love to try again. NOT to replace my little Gemma because NOTHING ever could. Dominic wanted a little sibling so bad but what if I cant get pregnant? What if I cant give that to my son? What if it’s a boy? I’ll love him the same but I want my little girl. I want her so bad!!! This pain this horrible pain is never going to leave. I’m never going to feel her kicks, her hiccups, never hold her again, never kiss her boo boos, never hear her laugh, see her ride a bike, see her dance. Make it all stop. I cant.

  44. Chris  October 15, 2018 at 8:36 am Reply

    I feel for you and understand the feeling of lack of purpose anymore. My Daughter died at 42weeks, during her induction. Though I’m still finding it hard myself to find anyone that understands me or I can relate too fully. This is because I’m a Father and everything I find online is the mother’s feelings and how they got through. It’s almost like no other Father feels like I do. I am broken, I’ve suffered with depression for half my life, and now the loss of my Daughter. How I get over this, I don’t know. Can someone guide me Please …..

  45. Margaret  October 7, 2018 at 4:19 am Reply

    Alex, thank you so much for trying to put this really, really confusing reality into words. I feel understood for the first time since losing my son on August 17, 2009 at 39 weeks. I was 43 at the time, and he was my only full term pregnancy. I wish I could say that my feeling of nearly paralyzing mystification since losing him had lifted, but it hasn’t. I would love to hear how you are doing these days, and the year you lost your baby. Thank you again for your beautiful writing.

  46. REBECCA NZILANI  June 9, 2018 at 5:02 am Reply

    I feel like sharing my story could help in my healing. Please feel free to reach out to me about my grief. The year 2017 is one that changed me completely. I met a guy in February 2017 and thought we were on the same page about being in a relationship, settling down and starting a family…. I remember making a trip to visit my bestfriend then who lived in a different city, that was later in March 2017, i had this horrible flu that i had never experienced before and definetly my period was late. In all this while we were communicating with then my boyfriend and he was convinced i was pregnant, so i took the test and for sure i was pregnant. I knew in my heart even out of wedlock, i was going to keep my baby and he was all for it but i was to soon realize he was not ready and started withdrawing from me. I had started experiencing morning sickness and some of the early pregnancy symptoms but in mid April they slowly started disappearing, i started feeling normal, one night i noticed some bleeding and the very next day went to hospital, i was around 3 weeks pregnant at this point so all the doctor saw was a sac, no fetal pole, no activity in terms of a heartbeat…. He sent me home to rest which i did, but my Mom was sure to tell me its not normal. Two weeks later which was 5th May i experienced alot of bleeding, cramping and excruciating stomach pain at night which by morning had ended and i knew for sure i had miscarried. I went to the hospital where they confirmed complete miscarriage. I was devasted but at the same time somewhat at peace, my then boyfriend had totally withdrawn from me, never showed up for any of my hospital visits and never attempted to help in my grief. I knew there was no relationship after that and completely stopped talking to him. The loss at that time was real but i found peace with the months that followed. Towards the end of September the guy re-surfaced, apologized and assured me he was ready to give our relationship another try…. Well, i was willing and gave him another chance. Come October 2017 i got pregnant again, in the beginning i couldnt believe it, i was somewhat ready but still skeptical about this guy’s commitment, for sure he was out the moment i told him. I was more composed this time round, i was ready to be a Mom, and by January 2018 i was sure i wanted to be a single mom to my lovely daughter growing inside me. As the months passed, all my doctor appointments were okay, my baby was growing well, moving well and i was healthy. My due date was set for June 29th 2018, am still dreading that day as it approaches. On 1st June, Friday 2018, i had already started counting down the days till i meet my lovely daughter… I had my sister come over to prepare the house and clean clothes for my baby’s arrival. By the end of the day, i was exhausted and had not felt my little one move all day, so i accounted it to my busy day….. I woke up at 4am to tell my sister i felt something was wrong, my baby was not moving even after prompting, changing positions and i felt this sinking feeling all was not well. I began going into denial but in my heart i knew something was wrong….. On Sunday, the 3rd ofJune, my little girl was confirmed through a scan to have passed away, no heartbeat and had been that way for a while. I was admitted and through induction i delivered my little Angel on 4th June 2018 at 35weeks. I can not describe the pain, loss, fear, dread, disappointment, blame, shame, i feel… The pain of a normal delivery after induction couldn’t compare to the thought that i wouldn’t hear my baby cry, i couldn’t believe what i was going through.
    My family and i decided to do a funeral ceremony for my little Angel on 6th June, 2018, i have been broken since then, everything is a struggle.
    Today, i woke up blaming myself, i should have known something was wrong, i should have been more paranoid, i should have worried more. Lord, why me???? What do i do now without my little girl, what is life about now, when will i see the sun rise again in my life?
    To every mom going through loss, i just know, GOD IS REAL, i dont understand anything right now because i want so badly to be a Mom but in His INFINITE WISDOM, God has said, “not now my daughter”. My family and friends have been great support and i hope i can find myself in all this pain and loss. I miss my little Angel sooo much, no words can describe what i feel for her.

  47. REBECCA NZILANI  June 9, 2018 at 4:54 am Reply

    I feel like sharing my story could help in my healing. Please feel free to reach out to me about my grief. The year 2017 is one i that changed me completely. I met a guy in February 2017 and thought we were on the same page about being in a relationship, settling down and starting a family…. I remember making a trip to visit my bestfriend then who lived in a different city, that was later in March 2017, i had this horrible flu that i had never experienced before and definetly my period was late. In all this while we were communicating with then my boyfriend and he was convinced i was pregnant, so i took the test and for sure i was pregnant. I knew in my heart even out of wedlock, i was going to keep my baby and he was all for it but i was to soon realize he was not ready and started withdrawing from me. I had started experiencing morning sickness and some of the early pregnancy symptoms but in mid April they slowly started disappearing, i started feeling normal, one night i noticed some bleeding and the very next day went to hospital, i was around 3 weeks pregnant at this point so all the doctor saw was a sac, no fetal pole, no activity in terms of a heartbeat…. He sent me home to rest which i did, but my Mom was sure to tell me its not normal. Two weeks later which was 5th May i experienced alot of bleeding, cramping and excruciating stomach pain at night which by morning had ended and i knew for sure i had miscarried. I went to the hospital where they confirmed complete miscarriage. I was devasted but at the same time somewhat at peace, my then boyfriend had totally withdrawn from me, never showed up for any of my hospital visits and never attempted to help in my grief. I knew there was no relationship after that and completely stopped talking to him. The loss at that time was real but i found peace with the months that followed. Towards the end of September the guy re-surfaced, apologized and assured me he was ready to give our relationship another try…. Well, i was willing and gave him another chance. Come October 2017 i got pregnant again, in the beginning i couldnt believe it, i was somewhat ready but still skeptical about this guy’s commitment, for sure he was out the moment i told him. I was more composed this time round, i was ready to be a Mom, and by January 2018 i was sure i wanted to be a single mom to my lovely daughter growing inside me. As the months passed, all my doctor appointments were okay, my baby was growing well, moving well and i was healthy. My due date was set for June 29th 2018, am still dreading that day as it approaches. On 1st June, Friday 2018, i had already started counting down the days till i meet my lovely daughter… I had my sister come over to prepare the house and clean clothes for my baby’s arrival. By the end of the day, i was exhausted and had not felt my little one move all day, so i accounted it to my busy day….. I woke up at 4am to tell my sister i felt something was wrong, my baby was not moving even after prompting, changing positions and i felt this sinking feeling all was not well. I began going into denial but in my heart i knew something was wrong….. On Sunday, the 3rd ofJune, my little girl was confirmed through a scan to have passed away, no heartbeat and had been that way for a while. I was admitted and through induction i delivered my little Angel on 4th June 2018 at 35weeks. I can not describe the pain, loss, fear, dread, disappointment, blame, shame, i feel… The pain of a normal delivery after induction couldn’t compare to the thought that i wouldn’t hear my baby cry, i couldn’t believe what i was going through.
    My family and i decided to do a funeral ceremony for my little Angel on 6th June, 2018, i have been broken since then, everything is a struggle.
    Today, i woke up blaming myself, i should have known something was wrong, i should have been more paranoid, i should have worried more. Lord, why me???? What do i do now without my little girl, what is life about now, when will i see the sun rise again in my life?
    To every mom going through loss, i just know, GOD IS REAL, i dont understand anything right now because i want so badly to be a Mom but in His INFINITE WISDOM, God has said, not now my daughter. My family and friends have been great support and i hope i can find myself in all this pain and loss. I miss my little Angel sooo much, no words can describe what i feel for her.

  48. Jennifer E Bragel  May 21, 2018 at 8:14 pm Reply

    My husbanand I just lost our Miranda Renee on May 16 2018, we tried for years to get pregnant and when we found out, we were beyond excited. Especially when we found out we were having a girl. We did have complications with the amniotic sac fluid being low, and I pleaded with 3 separate doctors to help. 2 basically stated to get an abortion but the third was “willing” to help, but for $1000 per shot. Her little heart just gave out about a few days before labor due to the fluid. They induced my labor at 26 weeks & was very tiny. She looked like her daddy but with my lips and nose. She was the most beautiful little girl. We miss her terribly, and are trying to push through day to day. The worst was picking her urn, which my husband picked out bunnies, since that was his nickname for her. We feel your pain and know that if you need someone to talk to, I’ll be very happy to listen

  49. Jennifer E Bragel  May 21, 2018 at 8:14 pm Reply

    My husbanand I just lost our Miranda Renee on May 16 2018, we tried for years to get pregnant and when we found out, we were beyond excited. Especially when we found out we were having a girl. We did have complications with the amniotic sac fluid being low, and I pleaded with 3 separate doctors to help. 2 basically stated to get an abortion but the third was “willing” to help, but for $1000 per shot. Her little heart just gave out about a few days before labor due to the fluid. They induced my labor at 26 weeks & was very tiny. She looked like her daddy but with my lips and nose. She was the most beautiful little girl. We miss her terribly, and are trying to push through day to day. The worst was picking her urn, which my husband picked out bunnies, since that was his nickname for her. We feel your pain and know that if you need someone to talk to, I’ll be very happy to listen

  50. VincentsMOM  November 16, 2017 at 3:55 pm Reply

    I have felt like this for almost 4 years now…I’m not sure this feeling will every go away. Until I read this article I didn’t know how to explain it. I lost my identity the day he died. My first born son was stillborn when I was 41 weeks pregnant. Just 2 days before our scheduled induction date, due to a cord accident that could have been prevented if my doctor listened to me and had done an ultrasound 3 days before he died. I’ve tried over the years to find things that keep my mind occupied. I even had a 2nd son in this time and he has helped tremendously but I still have that empty void in my soul where his brother should be. I look at him and wonder what his older brother would have been like at this age, or when we hit a milestone its a reminder of what I didn’t get to have with Vincent. I struggle getting up and going to work, I lost my faith in God, I lost my faith in myself…I am basically a zombie just trying to get to that finish line of whatever it is that I’m waiting for…maybe one day I will wake up and it will all be over, like you said…but being this far into the game, I don’t think its ever going to come. I have turned into a complete introvert, I can’t handle being around or talking to people yet my job demands it of me and its also taking its toll. One day…I just keep telling myself this is temporary. It’s not depression, or anything a magic pill is going to fix or something a doctor can fix…who knows if it will ever be fixed but atleast this feeling lets me know that he was real…even if it is painful.

  51. VincentsMOM  November 16, 2017 at 3:55 pm Reply

    I have felt like this for almost 4 years now…I’m not sure this feeling will every go away. Until I read this article I didn’t know how to explain it. I lost my identity the day he died. My first born son was stillborn when I was 41 weeks pregnant. Just 2 days before our scheduled induction date, due to a cord accident that could have been prevented if my doctor listened to me and had done an ultrasound 3 days before he died. I’ve tried over the years to find things that keep my mind occupied. I even had a 2nd son in this time and he has helped tremendously but I still have that empty void in my soul where his brother should be. I look at him and wonder what his older brother would have been like at this age, or when we hit a milestone its a reminder of what I didn’t get to have with Vincent. I struggle getting up and going to work, I lost my faith in God, I lost my faith in myself…I am basically a zombie just trying to get to that finish line of whatever it is that I’m waiting for…maybe one day I will wake up and it will all be over, like you said…but being this far into the game, I don’t think its ever going to come. I have turned into a complete introvert, I can’t handle being around or talking to people yet my job demands it of me and its also taking its toll. One day…I just keep telling myself this is temporary. It’s not depression, or anything a magic pill is going to fix or something a doctor can fix…who knows if it will ever be fixed but atleast this feeling lets me know that he was real…even if it is painful.

    • Sarah  January 14, 2019 at 9:11 am Reply

      Vincent’s Mom,
      I lost my firstborn as a stillborn. I feel so alone in that the experience of losing your first pregnancy to stillbirth is a uniquely devastating experience. Never do we have the privilege of knowing what a normal pregnancy and birth is. It is also now tainted with fear, anxiety and dread. I HATE GOD I hate attending church. Every mass is a dagger to my heart that directly applies to my loss. It’s as if they were catered to me alone and to bring me more pain. Luke Joseph was my most perfect creation. He was innocent. I have lost my identity, my hopes and my dreams. I woke up everyday thanking God incessantly for this pregnancy and so much more when I found out it was a son. 31 weeks came and my normally very active son wasn’t so active. I drove alone to the hospital thinking I was overreacting as a first time mom. I wasn’t—there was no heartbeat and I screamed alone in that room. I wish so much pain on God. I will never be his daughter or follower and I wish he feels the agony I do.

  52. Lisa  October 29, 2017 at 3:36 pm Reply

    This resonates so much with me. I gave birth to my stillborn daughter at 31 weeks last Thursday and I don’t know how to live a life without her, I’m just moving through each day as it comes trying to move through to something, I don’t know what.
    The only thing that keeps me going is the fact that I’m someone’s daughter and that my mother would be deeply hurt if anything were to happen to me and a possible future where I’ll get to bring Home a living child.

  53. Lisa  October 29, 2017 at 3:36 pm Reply

    This resonates so much with me. I gave birth to my stillborn daughter at 31 weeks last Thursday and I don’t know how to live a life without her, I’m just moving through each day as it comes trying to move through to something, I don’t know what.
    The only thing that keeps me going is the fact that I’m someone’s daughter and that my mother would be deeply hurt if anything were to happen to me and a possible future where I’ll get to bring Home a living child.

  54. Vicki  May 8, 2016 at 2:42 pm Reply

    My favorite sister-in-law lost a baby but it was a lot longer than being born with no heartbeat. She was born suffering, stayed that way for 5 months straight before succumbing to the fact that she didn’t have surfactant (the thing that makes your lungs be able to expand so you can breathe.) She was a twin who lived. The other baby was born without a heartbeat. My mom didn’t tell me that until 10 years later. She made me think there was a higher possibility of the live baby surviving the difficult birth because I thought she was one live birth that happened too early. Even as an EMT-B, which I was when this happened, I knew that if one baby had died the other would need a medical miracle to survive. I was expecting Katelyn, the living baby, to get better when she died. It felt like a massive shock to me, and made me permanently give up praying the rosary. Even after my mom enlightened me I never felt like praying a rosary again. It was the first of two things that happened that turned me away from seeking religious “comfort” for good.
    The second was being forced to watch while my daughter’s dad, my former Partner, died in Tower 1 of the World Trade Center. I don’t blame a ‘higher power’ for making it happen but I seem unable to stop wondering why he didn’t do anything to stop it. That thought was intensified when I had to listen to people saying how he did see that others were saved that day. It made me wonder why not the almost 3,000 who weren’t spared.
    I guess I’m saying I’ve experienced almost a total loss of my religious identity after those two situations occurred in my life.

  55. Lizette  December 15, 2015 at 1:54 am Reply

    Alex
    I lost my baby boy Julian a month ago. Nothing that I used to be excited about and interested in is enjoyable anymore. I also feel like I’m just going through the motions. We had just purchased a new home for our expanding family and our boys were going to share a bedroom. Decorating my toddlers room as a solo room is not as enjoyable now that I know his baby brother is not here to share it with him. In fact nothing is truly enjoyable about our new home. But because of our first born, I have to “fake it till I make it”. There’s no other way for me and your article really touched me.
    I also talk with my baby Julian, I write to him often. I think this has helped me tremendously. My heart goes out to you and I know you will get to mother Robin one day when you reunite with him. Some of us mothers have to wait a lifetime to mother their angels in heaven.

    • Alex  January 6, 2016 at 10:58 am Reply

      I’m so, so sorry Lizette. People seem to understand that losing a baby is heartbreaking, but they don’t realize that we lose almost all our purpose and place in the world too. And it’s really difficult to articulate to friends and family. But we know, and we understand each other. There are people here who can offer a lot of support and helpful words. I “met” Kristi on this thread, and she’s been one of my guides through the last several months. She found mothers who had lost their babies to guide her too, and I guess in that way, we all form an unfortunate but supportive chain.

      Here’s what I’ve found over the last few months, and I share it with you not as a prescriptive series of events that will undoubtedly happen, but maybe as some hope that you’ll experience something similar (or better). So I can tell you that I’m starting to see myself again–just a different version. Everyday I’m getting more okay with the fact that a part of me is permanently gone; that “life isn’t fair” applies to me too and is unceasing; that it’s probably going to take a long time before I’m as motivated and interested in life as I was before. I’m getting to know those feelings and letting them sit beside the plain, deep sadness of not having my first baby with me anymore.

      Robin’s due date was this Monday, January 4. It was a tough day, but it also felt somewhat cathartic. I talked to him (actually recorded it this time) and let him know that I’m not scared he’s alone or lost or suffering, like I used to think. I know that energy never dies, and I believe very strongly that it means pure spirits like his go on to do good in the world somehow and are naturally at peace. I believe he’s among babies, children, animals…other pure spirits like him. And it’s really comforting. It’s helpful to know that I’ve finally gotten to a place of being grateful for the little bit of time he was here, and being content knowing he’s not suffering.

      Now it’s just the ongoing process of getting to know an unexpected life, working through the ups and downs, and accepting the fact that I’ve changed so much (not necessarily in ways I’m always comfortable with–but that it’s okay). “Fake it till you make it” doesn’t mean you need to stuff away your feelings, but rather to keep doing what you need (and want) to do because you simply can’t make the world stop–as much as you may want to. I look at it like muscle memory: keep life going in whatever ways you have to, and eventually your brain and heart will start to catch up to your body. Doing our best in the wake of our losses is part of how we honor the memories of our babies. We’re living up to the version of ourselves that would have made us great parents to them.

      You, your family, and Baby Julian are in my thoughts. Please don’t hesitate to get in touch. Eleanor and Litsa (the moderators/owners of this site) have my contact info.

      xo

  56. Lisa  October 28, 2015 at 11:13 pm Reply

    This story is the closest I have come to feeling understood by another human being. It has been almost two years since I lost my pregnancy and I feel completely lost. Since then I have been suffering with horrible anxiety that I have no control over and the pressure to take birth control. I recently began experiencing acute panic attacks on top of the anxiety due to multiple stressors and triggers and I’ve never been so not-myself. I have nobody to talk to, nobody to relate to and nobody willing to accept my grief.

  57. SYLVIA  October 25, 2015 at 10:59 am Reply

    Alex et al,
    thanks for putting to words what I have been thinking but not verbalizing…fearing others would think I am wearing my hair shirt outside 😐
    My only son passed away, sans wife and children, several years after my husband. I struggle with who am I…no longer wife to anyone, mother to any living being (besides the dog, thank God for him!) with no hope of seeing him happy, with a wife, maybe kids. It’s just ME. how do I define myself? My sympathies to all who struggle with these pains of re-birth of self as we mourn those who have gone to the next place.

  58. Danielle Ferguson  October 16, 2015 at 1:18 am Reply

    I lost my William 4 months ago, on my one year wedding anniversary. I have 4 kids from a previous marriage and this boy was to be my husband’s first. My husband and I were stunned when we learned I was pregnant; we were navigating a very complex new marriage. Later we felt this new life was a blessing and reward for all the hard work and at times even the reason we made it work. So when he was stillborn from a very rare cord knot, we hit the wall hard. We too struggle with purpose even with 4 other kids to care for. I dare say even my children went through it, esp my youngest who was going to be the big brother and his protector. He wanted to build a spaceship and take down heaven to get his baby brother. So even in the midst of other children I and my family, still struggle. My arms and my heart were supposed to be overwhelmingly busy. It was to be so different and its left me stunned and asking if it was all a really bad dream. It helps to remember with my husband. We talk about his hands being like his hands…..and we hope for heaven. We know he’s there. We envision not as a baby, but in perfection before Jesus, all he was supposed to be…grown and understanding the complete picture. It takes some of the agony away, but only a bit. You are not alone. Xoxoxo

  59. Alex  October 2, 2015 at 6:15 pm Reply

    Your comments mean so much, Kristi. If you ever want to talk outside of here about Harley, your own experiences, or just your day-to-day, I’d love to hear from you. Just let me know if you’re ever up for it and I’ll figure out how to get my contact information to you.

    Take care of yourself. xo

    • Kristi Lumpkin  October 3, 2015 at 10:50 am Reply

      Alex. That would be wonderful. I sent my info to the whatsyourgrief email for them to get in touch with you. My email is harleyangelowl1106@aol.com. I’d love to listen, talk and just be there with you for those many walls and waves you will face in the coming months. xoxo Kristi

  60. Alex  October 2, 2015 at 4:39 pm Reply

    P.S. I realize, upon re-reading my comment above, that some of the thoughts were disjointed. This happens…especially lately. 🙂

    What I should have added after the bit about tuning out while I’m talking is that, after I left this interview—which has been the first time and place I’ve talked this much to anyone who hasn’t known about Robin—I thought, “I don’t know who that was in there. She was confident and casual, and a lot like the old Alex. But she didn’t break down crying, didn’t get so anxious that she couldn’t catch her breath, like the new Alex.” And then I thought, “That was Robin’s mom. Doing what she has to do to keep life moving along. For him and with him.”

    That wall isn’t totally gone, and I don’t want a few hours to delude me into thinking the grief is over, because it certainly isn’t…but I feel like I might have knocked out a brick today.

    Thank you again to everyone who’s read, shared, and commented. My heart is with yours.

    • Kristi Lumpkin  October 2, 2015 at 5:00 pm Reply

      No need to apologize. You accomplished a great deal with the interview . Losing your baby is not easy. I’m almost at the 11 month mark and it feels likeyesterday. Faking it is hard, so don’t try to like I’ve made the mistake of doing. Your words are so poignant and true. From a fellow baby loss mommy. From the movie The Help… “You is kind. You is brave. You is important.” Don’t let anyone tell you any less. God loves you too and He has got our babies in his arms

      Much love
      Kristi Lumpkin

  61. Alex  October 2, 2015 at 4:26 pm Reply

    I just wanted to come back and say thank you to everyone who’s shared their own stories, given me (all of us) words of wisdom, and said kind things about my writing. It means a lot. And also to say I’m so sorry for the unique and profound losses you all have been through as well…I know “I’m sorry” doesn’t add up to much, but I am.

    I went for a job interview today. A two-hour-long job interview, talking to four different people in the company about the organization, the projects, and mostly about myself. It was a really strange experience to have right now. I’ve been keeping in mind what a couple of you have said, not to “fake it till you make it” because it won’t work, and think you’re right. I prepared myself on how to answer if they had asked casually if I had kids. Thankfully, I guess, it didn’t come up; however, I was ready to answer truthfully that I have a son who’s not living (or however I’d have said it). But sitting there talking about myself and my professional experience, my ideas for the organization, and how I would fit in there—it’s so strange to rely on those old things I knew and felt so deeply about my own personal and professional identity, and to be talking about them outside the context of Robin’s life and death. I found myself spacing out while I was talking and then tuning back in, which seems to happen a lot lately.

    I talked to Robin this morning before I left, and I asked him to be with me and help me live up to his memory, to show the outside world and myself that I can hold onto him while holding onto an old me…at least until a new me finds her way to the surface. I think I can do it, even if that means relying on the memory I have of myself while knowing and feeling in my bones that she’s not quite there anymore. Today’s been the best day I’ve had since he died, and I credit his little spirit—the one I helped create—for making it happen.

    I hope this might help any of you reading. xo

  62. Annette  September 30, 2015 at 10:08 am Reply

    Very well stated and written. I have not been where you are, but reading your words will make being with those who are going through this more understandable to me. My hope is that, although I can not offer words from a personal experience, that the many comments already posted will give you the tools to make it past the “wall” you have so eloquently described. Thanks so much for sharing with us! A warm embrace from cyber world. hugs.

  63. Susan  September 30, 2015 at 12:54 am Reply

    So very sorry. I have gone through many losses in my life, but three of them really knocked me to my knees. The first was our first born son. He died moments after his birth. He was perfect. (Long story.) I was only 22 and so unprepared for the shock of our loss. I had two years of college left, I attended, but it was all a blur because of the grief I had. July 1 he would have been 45 and my heart still aches for him.
    Twenty years ago my 86 year old mother was brutally murdered in her own home. It was pure hell! Not sure I would have chosen to go on if not for my 9 year old son. My heart still aches and I fight PTSD because I found her. These two deaths had such a major impact on me and changed who I was.
    7 months ago, I lost my husband of 46 1/2 years. I feel totally lost and struggle trying to figure out what now. But I know after the other two major loses, I am strong and will find the strength and courage to go on with life with the love and grace of my Lord and savior.

    1
  64. Kristi Lumpkin  September 29, 2015 at 7:46 pm Reply

    I am so sorry for the loss of your sweet baby boy Robin. Alex I know the hurt you are feeling. We lost our baby girl Harley Nov 6 2014 due to a cord accident at 37 weeks. I hurt with you. Don’t ever let anyone try to rush you. I quit social media because I couldn’t deal with the deluge of posts from people complaining about the throes of everyday motherhood. My prayers are with you. You are not alone. We will always remember our babies. I pray for all of your losses to these sweet ladies on this thread. I’m so sorry that all of you are going through immense pain. I wish I could do something to ease it.

  65. Karla Helbert  September 29, 2015 at 6:33 pm Reply

    Alex, I am so very sorry your sweet Robin is not here with you as he should be–with you to tend and care and plan for him and for your life with him in it. If I can wish something for you, other than the obvious wishing this had never happened to you it is that you will not try to “fake it till you make it.” There is no place to make it to, no there there. There is only learning to carry this and to continue to let yourself be awash in your love for him, even when, maybe especially when, that love comes in grief’s raiment. Losing who we are is such a hard, hard part of this grief. We do as you said, have to start all over again because we are not who we were before our children died and can never be that person again. Your words are beautiful as is your mother’s heart. Sending love to you–thank you for sharing his story and yours with us. (((((((((HUGS)))))))))

  66. Laurie  September 29, 2015 at 3:46 pm Reply

    My daughter Kat died June 18. Although I know I will always be her mom, who do I mother now? My identity was so tightly tied to hers as my child. Until her death, I hadn’t realized how much everything I do is , in one way or another, for her. She was 22 and had just graduated from college, about to start her life as a bona fide adult. I too, am dealing with that wall. Thank you for so beautifully expressing what I could not. I wish you peace

  67. Vivienne Thomson  September 29, 2015 at 2:40 pm Reply

    I lost my dad in January this year and, 8 months on, I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore. We lived 200 miles apart but we were caring for him. We were organising sheltered housing, hospitals, Dr’s, social workers, dealing with when he took ill, on the phone around 2 or 3 hours a day at least, always needing to have it with me incase something happens. When he was moving we spent 4 months clearing out a house where he lived for 30 years, decorating a new flat, moving him in and sorting out carers only on weekends. Driving 200 miles on a Friday night and driving back for work at 8.30 on Monday morning, working all week and doing it all again. Two school summers in a row I spent my whole holiday back living down there again.

    Then he died. And I have no sense of identity. I was needed with him. He needed me, social workers, Dr’s, carers, the council needed me. I didn’t lose my friends but I didn’t have time to invest in them so now there are a lot less friends than there were before.

    I was his carer, I was his daughter. Now I don’t know who I am anymore. It’s been a huge relief to hear that others feel the same.

  68. Lois  September 29, 2015 at 11:23 am Reply

    I failed to tell Alex how sorry I am for her loss, Alex I am so sorry. Your strength comes through your post and I admire you for being able to put into words your feelings and your thoughts with such grace. Please take care, God Bless you. And to everyone who has posted here, I am so sorry for your losses as well. Grief is an awful thing, but it is a touch easier and so comforting to find Souls who are going through the same things and facing the same issues. It can help to share. Thank you all.

  69. Healing Walls  September 29, 2015 at 10:25 am Reply

    When I saw the title, “Grief Wall,” I thought you had featured our website on your blog! But even though I was wrong, you made up for it with a very well written article. 🙂
    Thanks for sharing this, friend. Love to have you guest blog for us sometime.

  70. Jan Owen  September 29, 2015 at 10:11 am Reply

    I have never lost a child but I understand losing yourself. I have felt that way since my husband died in August of 2014. Who the heck am I anymore? I am not a wife, or a caregiver, I am no longer serving in ministry as I did most of my adult life, my children are grown and moved away..Who is Jan? I dreamed my whole life of being a mother, wife, vocalist (I was a worship arts pastor), minister and now I am in some ways none of these. (I’m still a mom but admittedly it is different now and it is more at a distance – I have no one at home with me) I am simply Jan. And I don’t know what to do with her. So, as you say, I do what I should do. I started back to school because I know I need a finish and find a new job – career even! I struggle to care about many things I used to be passionate about. I’ve tried to explain it to people but it’s hard to articulate. I feel like not only am I grieving, I am rebuilding me….and I am not sure I have a map or plans to go by. Not sure what to do with my life now. You’re right, it can totally rob you of your identity. I am so sorry for your loss. Praying for strength to take one hour at a time into peace.

  71. Julia Reese-Whiting  September 29, 2015 at 9:58 am Reply

    I truly feel your loss and confusion. I experienced the same thing in 1973. Everything you’ve written here resonates loud and clear to me. The first thing I would suggest is don’t fake it til you make it. That was a huge mistake. Grief delayed compounds itself and will come back multiplied later. Right now, you’re in shock. I did exactly what you did. I read everything I could find to find out not what happened, but where my precious son, Seth, was. Speak about Robin. Use his name. Don’t let others minimize your loss. People mat say ridiculous things like, ” Well at least you didn’t get to know him. ” You absolutely did know him. You alone had that beautiful privileged. The only people who are going to understand are those who have experienced the exact same thing. If I were you, I would think of a phrase that you’re comfortable with to express to minimizers that Robin is as much you child as anyone else’s child. Over the years, when people ask me how many children I have, I tell them 3. Unless pushed, I don’t explain to them that one of my sons happens to be waiting for me behind this thin curtain we call death. Take care of yourself. Do whatever ishe necessary to find the answers that you need. You will come to an understanding that only you will know of. As far as the terminology goes, I simply tell people that Seth died. For myself, I explain to people that my son literally saved my life. From all of the searching I did to find out what happened to him, I found a true faith in God. I believe that I will be with him throughout eternity. God bless an keep you, Sweetheart.

  72. Mary  September 29, 2015 at 9:42 am Reply

    I lost my husband just short of three years ago. I have definitely been trying to “reinvent” myself ever since. It’s been recently compounded by selling our house and moving into another home. I thought it would help me start over but I still feel completely lost. I keep thinking once I finish remodeling, painting, unpacking, etc., that I’ll feel like I’m finally “there.” And the widow’s brain fog and inability to focus doesn’t help. But I still hope my grief wall starts crumbling soon. Thank you for the post.

  73. Lois  September 29, 2015 at 8:58 am Reply

    Hugs back to you, you have suffered so much as well. We are in our own special Club. Take care, Bless you.

  74. Dave's Widow  September 29, 2015 at 8:54 am Reply

    Oh, Lois, I’m so sorry for the loss of your precious little girl, and your husband, too. Yes, I truly and completely believe they are together right this very minute, and will be the first two to meet you when you cross over. ((((((((( hugs )))))))))

  75. Lois  September 29, 2015 at 8:32 am Reply

    We lost a little girl 36 years ago. She was full term. The only possible explanation was that I had chicken pox in my 7th month. She was beautiful, that is a memory I carry in my heart. I have so many regrets. One of being in the hospital while my family had a funeral service for her, and I couldn’t attend. I still feel her loss, and now that my husband has passed away from cancer, I always envision him holding her until we all meet again. Thank you for this post. Sometimes I feel very alone in this grief. And my grief for the loss of my husband of 40 years only adds to it.

  76. Dave's Widow  September 29, 2015 at 7:52 am Reply

    We suffered 2 pregnancy losses (both times with multiples) before I lost my beloved husband. I no longer felt I was “me”…..and that was even more confirmed when I wasn’t even included in my mother-in-law’s obituary several years later. Our sons were listed, to make it appear they were her other son’s children. The other son was listed, along with his wife, but not me. Not an oversight, but rather an intentional snub by my brother-in-law whose career of being a drug addict/dealer caused a rift between my husband and him, and the family (all enablers) sided with the other son.

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