Hello Still Mothers!
Today’s Talk to us Tuesday is about Alex’s post yesterday.
Did you read it? She really knows how to say the things we’re thinking and feeling. If you haven’t seen it, you can find it here.
When your child dies, you instantly know what it means to really lose. You lose your entire world when your child is gone. You can lose friends, even family, your faith/beliefs, your identity, and you lose an entire lifetime with your child. You might even feel your motherhood has been lost. Suddenly, you feel lost and unwelcome in a world that seems to revolve around pregnancy, babies, children, and families. As a Still Mother especially, you can even lose your loss community support as people move on to have other children and you’re left behind.
If only people could see just how much is lost when a precious child dies.
Today, we want to know: What did YOU lose with your child’s death?
We’d like to create a safe place for you to share your heart with us.
You can start with your child’s name, and then tell us all the things you feel are lost because of his/her/their death. Also consider sharing with us if you believe your secondary losses (the things you lost due to your child’s death) are permanent, or something that can be re-gained.
Real loss is only possible when you love something more than yourself – Robin Williams, Good Will Hunting
She is the creator, co-founder, and Editor of Still Mothers.She is the founding owner of All That Love Can Do, a resource for families who continue pregnancy after a fatal diagnosis. She is a contributing author of Still Standing Magazine, and All That Love Can Do, and her own blog, The Love We Carry.Her story is featured in Still Standing: Because They Lived and "Invisible Mothers".
She is married to her faithful husband, Bryan.
She speaks openly about life and loss, the joy of carrying her son, and the heartache of living without him. She believes no one should have to face a life of loss alone.
- Still Mothering - May 5, 2017
- The Mothering Project - April 9, 2017
- At Least - November 28, 2016
I lost everything. I lost my daughter 3 days before she turned 3 months old. I lost our whole little family. Her dad and I split and he had a son, so I lost all three of them. And I lost myself, I feel like I’m just going day by day but with no life within me anymore. I went from a family of 4 to a family of none. I lost my best friend who was the closest to me and my daughter. I lost moments I’ll never get, like the sound of her laugh or hearing the word mama. I lost any light or love for life. I lost all my hopes and dreams. All I wanted I had and now it’s gone. I lost knowing what she would have looked like. It’s like all holidays I want to avoid and any happiness I show is fake just for the benefit of others. I even struggle with my faith.
After a miscarriage I found out I was pregnant again with my Brynlee. When I lost her at 9 days old in April, I lost everything. Recovering from a baby I no longer can hold is heart breaking. I lost my hopes & dreams for Brynlee, & most days my overall happiness. I still have faith that coping will become easier but it will never “be better”.
Two loses in such a short time is hard for a heart to bear. And being a new mother with no baby is one of the hardest things a woman can face. It’s true that it won’t always hurt in the same way it does at first, but we carry our babies and the pain of their absence with us for the rest of our lives. You just learn to carry it better with time and work. Be gentle with yourself <3
I lost faith that hard work and effort will get you what you want in the world. I lost any sense of control in my future, my goals, my dreams. I lost the hope that lifted me and carried me along before. I lost the idea that things will work out. I lost a sense of partnership with my husband. I lost the fearlessness I used to have when faced with the future. I lost a piece of my heart.
So often, we are told those lies that if you are just “good” or “work hard” or “have faith” things will work out. Sadly, it’s just not true. Bad things happen at any time to any person for no reason whatsoever. And we’re left to pick up the pieces of our broken world with no way of knowing what to believe in anymore. Thank you so much for sharing with us <3.
I lost my daughter Chloe 20/01/14 my first born and with her went my future with her, my innocence of pregnancy and future motherhood and bits of myself. I have lost all the milestones, watching her grow, her birthdays, Christmases, school, weddings, grandchildren, all the life experiences she would have gave me. A whole life time with her gone. The innocence of another pregnancy gone, 9 months does not mean i will get a baby to take home, the scans and tests being all ok does not mean ill get a baby to take home and trying to do everything right does not mean ill get a baby to take home either. The future motherhood innocence gone always wondering and worrying that this might be the last day i will see my child cus anything could happen to take them away. The constant fear that i might end up having to bury another baby or future child (if im lucky enough to get one). After i lost Chloe i lost myself with the grief and anxiety grief brings. My existing health problems got worse with the grief and anxiety and i had to quit my job. I have lost what i was suppose to be a at home mum that i wanted to be. Now im at home unwell with no confidence in life, scared of the future and how i will cope. I feel i dont fit in anywhere im too different to people around me. And i miss being able to be fully happy and i feel i will always have sadness in me.
I understand the feeling of not feeling like you fit – I feel that all of the time. It’s so hard.
I’m sorry that Chloe is not here with you. It isn’t fair.
You’re right that there is no guarantee for a future pregnancy or child. The ignorant feeling of thinking things will turn out ok is gone.
Please be gentle on yourself. You are not alone, though I know it truly can feel that way <3
“9 months does not mean I will get a baby to take home”. Yes…that’s exactly it. Sadly, we know the truth now and it makes it hard to have any hope for the future. And it feels all the time like those of us know have empty arms have no place to fit in. We hope you feel you have a place with us <3
When I lost my Juliana 6 years ago last month, at 38 weeks, my whole world came crashing down. I felt, and still feel, like I lost everything. I feel as though I have no purpose. My whole life, all I’ve ever wanted was to be a mom. While I am a mother, I’m starting to feel as though I’ll never have the opportunity to be the mom I always envisioned that I would be. I just graduated with a bachelor’s degree in business, which should be an exciting time. But I just feel like I’m going thru the motions. I have no idea what I want to do with my life and really have no motivation or ambition…all of which vanished on May 24, 2009.
Thanks for sharing Melissa. I can so relate with what you’re going through I think. It’s been 3.5 years now since my son died, and although I’ve gone on to be quite productive, and to have accomplished quite a lot, I still feel empty and like there is no point to anything that I do. Like there is no purpose. I’m sorry you feel this way too. But I would like to say congratulations on getting your degree – that is a huge accomplishment. While it may feel like just another thing you’ve done without your daughter, it is a very big deal <3
as simply as I can put it, I lost myself.
And that’s so true, I think for everyone here. Thanks for sharing Sabrina <3
When we lost Addison I lost a lot of who I was. At first I lost the ability to care for myself. To eat. To drive. To sleep when I needed to. I couldn’t be left alone and needed constant companionship. Slowly those things returned. It has been 15 months now and one large thing that has not returned is my feeling of a place among friends. I was married at 20, pregnant at 21, had a baby at 22 and lost her. Now I’m 23. Most of the people I went to high school with are still in college. I was in college when Addison was born but haven’t gone back. But those people my age have no idea what it is like to get married. If they know what it’s like to be pregnant or have a child, it was likely by accident. I have church friends with children but they are all in their 30’s. I fit in pretty well, they are wonderful friends, but with Addison I would have truly belonged in that circle. I’m a young married mother of a dead child and it’s incredibly lonely sometimes.
I know this phase won’t last forever. Age will pull me out of it as well as our hope for more children. But until then I’m stuck.
Your comment touched me specifically because we are both going through this at a young age. I was married just this past August shortly after my 21st birthday, found out we were pregnant in January but also lost our baby at the end of the same month. You said exactly what I’ve been struggling with lately, fitting in. All of my friends are either in college, not married, not even thinking about kids or in their 30’s and have several living ones. There’s no in between and it’s so hard to find anyone my age that knows what I’m going through.
I feel so similar, and yet I was 26 when I got married and got pregnant and when my son was born. Most of my friends were married, but a lot of them were not in the place of wanting a family yet. It’s been very hard as over the past few years I’ve watched most of them go on to have families, and feel like I’m still stuck on the outside. Like I don’t belong anywhere at all.
Thank you for sharing <3
Camden Joseph 4/15/15. I took one final push and Camden was born. the dr cut his umbilical cord, the very last thing that physically held us together. At that moment I lost myself. I was so mad at myself for not being able to stop myself from going into labor so early. I lost hope. I lost my innocence at looking at pregnancy as a beautiful thing…. Now I look at it as being scary and being scared to ever try again. I lost hearing him cry, nurturing him when he is sick or sad. I lost sarurday morning snuggles and singing him to sleep. I lost a huge part of my heart and everyday it hurts so bad to put on an act for everyone, including myself, and pretend like I’m moving forward. I lost my baby and what could have been our whole world.
You did lose all of those things. It hurts so much. I hope that you don’t always feel like you have to put on an act, especially for yourself. But I completely understand the need for self-preservation. Please be gentle on yourself, your Camden died so very recently. We are here <3
Thank you for sharing, Stephanie. We feel so much of what you’re saying. You DO lose yourself, you world, and everything that could have and should have been.
My son Gavin died January 29th 2015. He was born 8 lbs 15 ounces and 3 days old when he died. He had a stroke and was unable to recover. We love him and miss him so much. These past 4 months have been so painfully difficult as I’m sure many of you understand. We have struggled with infertility and it took awhile and many rounds of meds for us to get pregnant with Gavin. We were so excited.
We have lost our innocence of thinking a healthy pregnancy guarantees a healthy baby you get to take home. There are losses of a few family members and friends. The main thing I have noticed is that for some, they are not comfortable around us and don’t know what to do or say. They can’t relate to us and we can’t relate to them. So they have slowly backed away. One family member in particular thinks I am selfish but says it has nothing to do with my son’s death and that it is how I have always been. It has everything to do with his death. I’m forever changed and my son dying is the reason I am grieving and struggling to make it through each day. I have seen this quote: It’s not selfish to make your grief a priority, it’s necessary. One friend said she thinks our friendship is now one-sided. Some will just never understand.
I have lost the connection with some co-workers. I’m a preschool teacher so that has been hard to adjust to being back. One co-worker didn’t make eye contact with me and looked at the ground as she said “hi Heather” to me. Others make small talk with me, completely ignoring that my baby died a few months ago. Or some just ignore me completely. There have been a few that have come up to me and gave me a big hug, and say I’m so glad you’re back and I’m here for you. Those have been the most helpful.
Thankfully for the few we have lost, we have gained much more. I’m sure everyone has heard the quote, “friends become strangers and strangers become friends.” I’m at peace with that.
Many parts of your comment feel like they could have been written by me. In fact I wrote many blog posts about these same things early on after my son Finley died. He was also 3 days old. He died of a cardiac arrest after suffering severe HIE due to malpractice during my labour and after his birth.
I wondered for a long time if I would ever have anything to offer people besides my brokenness and sadness. And the truth is, a lot of people have gone out of my life. And a lot of people have come into it. I think you hit the nail on the head with you’re “friends become strangers and strangers become friends” quote. My best advice is not to fight it. It hurts like hell, and yet it is somewhat refreshing to learn who your real friends are. And they will be the ones who are there with you all throughout your journey, no matter how one-sided the friendship appears.
Big big hugs <3
We lost our first born, middle born and youngest born all in less than a week. It took a lot from us- speaking for my husband and myself. It took a huge part of my heart with them. I think that though part of me is so thankful for the time I had with them that my experience is a bit different-since we were so unsure day to day how things would be from the point I went into labor. While some times its like hitting rock bottom over and over again- other times its hard to imagine not going through everything we did. While we would love for the boys to be with us- we also know that they were just born way to early. It has shaped us both so much. As others have wrote a major thing it took was being able to relax- and be hopeful that any future pregnancy will go smoothly. You get past the 12 week mark and then feel this sense of comfort that everything will go well. Then when we got the news at 20w6d that I was in labor it changed everything. We had to think in a new term- viability. No longer do I think if we get pregnant again will I be able to breathe a sign of relief until that baby is born- I think I will worry often.
This is something I think about all the time. My healthy son died AFTER birth because of mistakes made by the hospital. It makes me question whether I will ever have the ability to breathe any relief if I am blessed with a chance to have any more children.
I’m sorry your boys aren’t with you. Thank you for sharing <3
When I lost my first 3 I started to lose hope. But when I lost my son Edward I lost myself. I lost all confidence in myself and my ability to live a normal life. I lost hope, faith, and interest in life. I stepped down from my positions at work because I felt I lost the ability to do my job. But through losing myself I also found a new person. A person who found a way to love beyond the heavens. A person who wants to shout to the world that I am a mother please let me tell you about my angel babies. A person who may still cry watching a mother with her baby but will smile at the same time knowing how fragile and special that relationship is. I lost everything when I lost my babies but in time I gained.
I think this is very true for me as well. I lost the life that I had, the one that I wanted. But in time I have built a new life, with new people, and new motivations. I am a mother to my son, just like you are a mother to your precious babies. Nobody can take that away from us <3
I lost the innocence of pregnancy. For me, I lost baby showers because my son was born prematurely before his shower. I won’t have one in future pregnancies due to my fear. I lost holidays, birthdays, first steps, being called ‘mommy’. Most importantly, I lost a piece of my heart that I won’t get back until I see him again in Heaven.
And all of the things that you see other people having, that you should have had, now feel tainted. You can never just be blissfully happy for another person who is expecting or celebrating a child’s life. It’s so unfair <3
When I lost my son, Erryn Shiloh, it was like my world came crashing down. I lost the innocence and joy that comes along with a first time pregnancy. After I lost him I started to find out all these things that were wrong with my body that contributed to his death. I’ve lost faith my my own body and my identity. I’ve lost the ability to dream of a positive future full of hope.
I’m so sorry Steph. I’m sorry that you lost your son, and that you also lost the person you were before. I’m sorry that you no longer have the faith that things work out okay. I’m just sorry <3
I lost my fear of death because I know my baby boy will be waiting for me in Heaven. I also lost the feeling that those that I love will always be around. Death is more real to me and I worry about losing those that I love the most. My loved ones are not immune to death. I never thought they were but I just never feared them passing away. Now I do.
I also lost my fear of death. When my daughter was born still at 41w3d the end of March, my husband and I felt we needed to get away, just go somewhere else. So two weeks later we got on a plane. I used to get so nervous during take off and landing. Then it hit me, if anything happens and we die, we get to be with our angel. Of course, I didn’t want the plane to crash, but I was no longer afraid. For the first several weeks I was also petrified that my husband would die and I would be left all alone in this world.
I 100% know what you mean when you say you no longer fear death. In fact in the early days after my son Finley died, I welcomed it. I longed for it. I don’t necessarily believe in heaven, but I do hope that whatever happens, one day I will be with him again.
Thanks for sharing Kelsey <3
Raelyn Grace. When I lost Raelyn, I literally lost everything except my house. I lost my family and friends. My attempts to regain them have failed miserably. I lost my job, my car, my faith, my ability to function in society, my joy. The list is endless.
And the thing that people don’t realise is how these losses keep happening, long after our children die. We lose ourselves and that means that the life we once had is gone forever. Thinking of your sweet Raelyn <3
My son Jayden passed away as a stillborn at 24 weeks. Honestly, I think the question is what didn’t I loose? I lost everything when my Jayden passed away. I lost him, his father, I’ve lost family, friends, my innocence, my faith, my identity, my heart. I could go on for days. I lost all the good only to gain anger, pain, heartache, resentment. Maybe one day I will be okay. But as of today, my heart just aches for the son I wanted more than anything. And I’m not okay. I just hope he knows how much me and his father love him. And how much we wanted him. We both would have gladly sacrificed our lives for him. Our precious miracle baby <3
I feel the same. That I lost everything. New things are coming into my life now, but the life that I had is gone forever. Big hugs Chelsi <3
Missing and loving Harley. I lost so much when we lost our Harley to a cord accident at 37 weeks. Learning how to adapt to everyday life is hard. I lost the excitement and anticipation of having a newborn, toddler, preschooler and so on. It’s been 7 months and I still cry a lot some days. I know there’s no time limit. I feel like people are judging me and their excuse is not knowing what to say. I don’t need them to say anything. Just to be there.
7 months is still so very recent. You take all of the time and space and tears that you need to survive. People will judge, people won’t know what to say. At the end of the day you are the only one who can possibly know what you need. You are right – you did lose all of those moments with your precious Harley. You lost the life you thought you would be living. I’m so sorry <3
Thank you for validating my feelings!
You’re so welcome! There is far too much pressure when it’s already hard enough. You definitely need to know that it’s okay to grieve in your own way
My daughter, Eva died from a terminal genetic disease, Spinal Muscular Atrophy, no one has ever heard of it yet 1 in 40 of us are carriers of it. I lost my ignorance as well as my innocence and I can never get them back. Nor do I want to. She has taught me such valuable lessons about life as well as about our family genetics that I would have never learned if it weren’t for her disease.
I think the saying “ignorance is bliss” is really true. You can’t be affected by what you don’t know, and I would give anything to not know the truths that I now live with daily. I’m so sorry about your daughter, Eva. Thank you for sharing with us <3
I lost my chance to get away, to survive, to have a different life.
We lose everything don’t we? I’m sorry Hazel. Thank you for sharing.
I call them my Fireflies, I have five of them. Twenty-plus years ago, you didn’t talk about losses, you didn’t name your losses, “it was best to move on,” they said. I can only reply, “Move onto what?”
Happily Ever After is a lie. Go to church, find a good man, get married and you will be rewarded with children, another lie. Good things happen to good people….well, bad things happen to good people too but no one ever tells you that!
Innocence lost at 20 with my honeymoon baby. Anticipation lost with the 2nd. Expectation lost with the 3rd, Confidence lost with the 4th, Belief lost with the 5th. Hope was lost with my hysterectomy at 28.
I no longer looked forward to the unknown, Faith, was removed from my vocabulary. In the midst, I lost friends, family, my spouse, parts of my physical body and most importantly, my Self. My entire life, I knew one thing with certainty; I was supposed to be a mother. It was the core of my being. Then it was gone.
Over 20 years later, I know What I am. I don’t know if I will ever know Who I am. What I am is the person the world gets to see. I put on a daily performance “taking stage now, the smart, steady, driven, funny, successful, Theresa”. I do this so those around me don’t see or feel my pain, confusion, hopelessness. I do this so I can function with a sense of normalcy.
I will continue to seek out knowledge, wisdom and grace not to improve my performance but so that one day, I will know who I am.
I feel a kindred spirit with you, Theresa. Five losses myself. Facing early menopause now. I agree that happily ever after is a lie. I have lost faith and friends. With family, there is just such a huge emotional distance since they just don’t get it.
I’m so sorry Theresa. I’m sorry that you have to put on a daily performance in order to function. I’m sorry that the world doesn’t see your losses for what they are – your precious children.
Thank you for sharing with us <3
When we lost Helen, we lost the innocence and excitement of pregnancy. She was my first pregnancy. As we continue to try to conceive again, and month after month are disappointed, I feel like I’m losing myself a tiny piece at a time. My spirit broke when I lost Helen. I already felt like a mother, but I was up against “it was just a miscarriage, you’ll have another baby”. I lost the ability to be unconditionally happy for other mothers; to look at them without a lense of pain. I’m grateful for the fact that we didn’t lose each other, because we could have, but our new marriage lost its honeymoon phase when we lost our honeymoon baby.
Thank you so much for sharing your heart. We hear you <3. The monthly disappointments on top of the already present grief can destroy you. We hope you'll be gentle with yourself. We honor your motherhood with you today.
I could probably fill a book with all the things I lost through the deaths of my children…the vision of having a household filled with life and laughter, four loud rambunctious kids around the dinner table, the chaos and joy of having the large family we desired. All the moments of cuddling, kisses, hugs, holidays, milestones, birthdays, the list is forever growing. My identity as a woman and as a wife. Friends, family, church friends, even coworkers. I’ve begun to wonder if I don’t give off this strange kind of ‘luck’ in my loss communities, as it never fails within just a few months of becoming friends with someone they’re suddenly expecting.
My innocence and the ease with which I once trusted people is a loss I don’t think I’ll ever regain. My blind faith that the future will somehow work out is damaged, because I’ve now lived through several of my worst nightmares (losing my career, becoming homeless, miscarriage) and I’ve experienced the truth that ‘happily ever after’ is far from guaranteed. I’ve gone from wanting a big family to hoping for even just one living, breathing child. I’m stubborn in not wanting to give up that last hope; that our home may yet have the sounds of laughter and the ‘pitter-patter of tiny feet’. Someday I will regain my identity as a woman, though it won’t be the same as I had dreamed it would be. I fear my smile will always be lopsided.
Yes, yes, yes… exactly! Is it any wonder we have a hard time getting out of bed each day? Thank you for sharing your truths.
Missing Stella. Some days I feel like I have lost everything. Other days I can see through the fog to see there are still opportunities to smile. As I near the year anniversary of my daughters’s birth I can see how much I have lost this year and I know that feeling of loss will grow as I await the year anniversary of her passing 96 days later. I have lost my faith, I have lost friendships. I used to put others first and I find myself unable to do that.
“Some days I feel like I have lost everything”. We hear you. That’s the hard part of re-learning to live after loss. It can feel like there is nothing left to live for. Grasping hold of the days when a glimmer of light shines though the darkness can be the only way to keep going at times. Thank you for sharing <3.
I lost my innocence, my naivete… and it’s a permanent loss. When you lose your first baby, you never get to enjoy a pregnancy the way someone who doesn’t know babyloss does – any subsequent pregnancy is a terrifying time of anxiety and fear because you know exactly what can go wrong and that there is no such thing as a “safe” point.
I completely agree with you Melissa, and understand this feeling well. It’s terrifying to realise just how little control we possess. Thanks for sharing with us <3