So what do we do? We try our best to find out what and why it happened, we have tests run and theories explored. For some of us that comes back with an “answer” which can often be just as toxic to us as those who didn’t get an answer. And sometimes the “reason” comes from the backwards ideas people have about how life works. (Some of the crap that’s come out of people’s mouths to me about why my son died makes my blood boil.)

“Everything happens for a reason”

“You’re still young, you have time to have more”

I’m not even gong to get started on the religious ones.

Every time I hear this rubbish, I feel like screaming at them that no, my son was perfect in every way! He was perfectly developed and had no genetic abnormalities or organ failures. My body also seemed perfect in every way, I have no diseases or antibodies or unusual viruses.  I didn’t eat anything I wasn’t meant to and I didn’t do anything that wasn’t recommended. I took all my prenatal vitamins, I stayed clear of alcohol, most pharmaceuticals and as many chemicals as I could. I had every test and scan available to me. And yet here I am. My son died in utero with no explanation. My general doctor is wonderful, she told me her best guess is that I picked up a virus I never even knew about and that’s why he died. Nothing that could have been tested for or that could have been avoided. She made me feel it was less my fault, even though that doubt will always linger there.

She told me the chances of it happening again were extremely unlikely and that this was probably a freak occurrence. That lightning doesn’t strike twice.

It took us a very long time to process the death of my son, and because I had time on my side (age wise), it took us four years before we felt we were ready to try again.

We fell pregnant, with a daughter this time, how exciting! I did exactly the same, took every test available, saw a specialist obstetrician, had extra monitoring and again avoided all known risk factors.

Any pregnancy after a loss carries a huge amount of anxiety with it but I allowed the words of my precious doctor to comfort me in my times of worry, “Lightning doesn’t strike twice, especially with all the testing you have had“.

I remember getting to 12 weeks, the last of our major screening tests had been completed and had all come back as her and me being perfectly healthy. We could not have been happier. The bliss (still accompanied by some anxiety) felt like it could have lasted forever.

But then, one day, the Lightning came again. My storm was not over. My precious child after loss, my beautiful, much longed for daughter who had seemed so healthy according to all the tests and scans, had suddenly also died in utero. Just like her brother.

I could not believe this was happening, and neither could anyone else. Doctors, nurses, specialists, all as confused as us, as to how this had happened, again. In almost identical circumstances.  They shook their heads as they went over what they have maybe missed the first time when my son died. Nothing. No clues.

All the post mortem tests were run again, anything they offered to test for we said yes to. We were desperate to know what was going wrong in the hope they could prevent it again.

Sadly, once again no medical reason was found.  Like a recurring nightmare. We had found ourselves in the same place as five years ago. Two children held only in our hearts and no way of knowing how, or even if, another loss could be prevented.

That was almost 12 months ago and since then, after even more extensive testing and consulting with our states highest OB professor, we have been given the same old garbage about there seeming to be no reason therefore no reason it couldn’t work next time. Generic promises of more monitoring etc. but as my husband pointed out does that just mean we see things decline and stand idly watching them yet another baby die?  What they don’t realize is that what’s on paper says one thing but there is a huge emotional toll that also needs to be taken into account. What happens to our mental health, our relationship, our careers and the life we had mapped out for ourselves?

So for now, we wait in limbo, one brave moment thinking we should try again and then an equally brave moment thinking this is all too much for us. What the future holds, nobody knows. But there is always hope, and the comfort of my two little stars lighting my way as I travel through my darkness.

Editor’s Note: This guest post is by a member of our Grieving Your Youngest group for loss mothers with living children, but no baby born after loss.  Although Still Mothers’ focus is on families with no living children, we do see the need for resources for families with living children, but no baby born after loss. This post is for those families.

PLEASE NOTE: This following bio contains information about a living child. Please be advised, there may be triggering language for those who have no living children.

Louise is 36 and  lives in Melbourne, Australia with her husband and 3 living children. After becoming pregnant with her fourth child in 2009 she thought life was about as perfect as it was going to get. It came as a great shock to learn that Michael had died suddenly in utero without explanation. Telling her 3 living children that their baby brother wasn’t going to come home was one of the hardest things she has ever had to do. For 4 years they decided not to have any more children until life had other plans and she fell pregnant with a daughter in 2014. Although very excited the anxieties of pregnancy after loss were amplified with her 3 children constantly asking if this baby would die too. Sadly these anxieties were realised and her precious daughter Lyra also died in utero with no explanation. Louise and her family are now coming to terms with not having another baby as the risk of loss is too great and too devastating for them. She is passionate about supporting all families experiencing any kind of child loss but especially those juggling their own grief and that of their living children. She also wants the world to know that “rainbow” babies can die too, and that it’s ok to realise when enough is enough and that being brave enough to say no to trying again is ok too.