Dear Friend,
I bet you probably think of me now as the “crazy person” who lost her baby. You know, waking up every day to the fact that my child is dead actually does make makes me feel crazy, but really, it’s just normal grief.
I know you can’t understand, but I feel that my future is gone, because, you know, children are the future, and I feel that I failed the person I was supposed to protect. A mother is supposed to protect her child. A mother is not supposed to bury her child. It’s supposed to be the other way around. Deep down I know I shouldn’t feel guilty, but that’s how you feel when you lose your child, regardless of what anyone says.
I’m a bereaved mother, and I’m also a postpartum woman, so I have all the hormonal changes of a woman that had a baby. I did — in fact –deliver a baby, but my baby died.
I know you don’t understand, and you probably never will, but I wanted to tell you that I was upset because I felt that you were trying to push me to “get better” and I guess I expected more of a listening ear from you. It’s different when it’s not your own baby, I guess, but I still expected more from you. I felt that my loss and my feelings were not being validated, because you didn’t listen to what I said, you just gave your empty advice. I did not want advice. Especially from someone like you, who doesn’t understand what this is like. You don’t realize that everything I am feeling is normal. It’s grief, and it’s my new normal.
I also needed you to realize I’m in no state of mind to listen to other’s problems or issues -it drained me and the shock of my daughter’s death, coupled with grieving for her, have drained me enough already. I need you to know that grieving zaps you of all your energy. I was not able to focus on anybody else’s issues because this is really the worst thing that can happen to a parent, a person, and I just needed someone to listen to me talk about what happened and what I was doing to get through it. I don’t have the space in my head or my heart to carry your burdens too.
Other grieving parents know what I’m going through, and pretending with the rest of the world that nothing has changed is like keeping my suffering and my daughter a secret, and I’m not doing that. It’s a part of my life now and so is she. It’s important you know that. She will always be my daughter. I will always miss her.
Friend, maybe I expected too much from you. Maybe I thought that you should know what I needed, and I did not know how to tell you, or how to explain that your pushes for ‘moving on’ were hurting me not helping, so I got angered instead. It was very early in my grief -the first couple of months-and I was still in a fog and didn’t even know what I needed. Anger came easier than explanations.
I know you don’t get it, and that’s fine. It didn’t happen directly to you. But I am your friend, and I expected your support. I have learned that grief must be worked through, not busied away, and I will always grieve the death of my own daughter. Nothing anybody can say or do will make it better, make it go away, or get me “back to normal”. That person, that “normal” is gone. I know now that you cared for me and so that is why you pressed me to heal. You wished– you wanted –to see me get better. I realize that was your goal, and I’m sure you did not want to see me hurting so much. I don’t want to hurt this much either. But my daughter has died, and more than anything else I needed people to simple witness my pain and accept the fact they couldn’t take it away. I still need that. This is just my reality now.
I hope, dear friend, you can understand what I’m saying. I need your support now more than ever. Listen to me. Ask me about my little girl. And always remember that I grieve because I love her. And that is never going to end.
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Melissa Ayala gave birth to her beautiful stillborn daughter Alyssa Jordan Henderson in November 2015 at 6.5 months gestation. She is a part-time school nurse, trying to take life one day at a time. She is always looking for news ways to get support in this journey without her daughter.
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my son’s Oliver and august,were stillborn on august 10 2016..they had a condition called (TRAPS).i cant even bring my self to be around pregnant woman and babies, my friends either have new babies or are expecting new babies. Our babies they were supposed to be 25 days apart….right now i just cry and cry…..
I’m so sad for you. There are just no words. Just go with it, and cry when you need to. xx
So beautifully written.I lost my son Charlie in 2012 he was born sleeping at 33 weeks gestation.I was not listened to from 27 weeks by professionals and not listened to by so called friends.Thinking of you.xx
I am the Nanny of a beautiful little girl who was born sleeping 2 years ago this December.
I am not only grieving for her but my daughter who gave birth to her.
She was wanted and loved so much by her Mommy and Daddy and her big Sister. And grandparents and family and friends. Waited for for so long. Only to be taken for one of Gods special Angels.
The grieving will never go away. The love for her will always be in our hearts and she is missed every minute of every day.
We pray that one day we will all be together in a far better world than this one.
God bless you NIA. Until we meet again. You live in our hearts.
I’m the grandmother of a child lost before birth. She was loved and very much wanted, and we will never forget her. I wrote this:
Don’t tell me time will heal
or that one day there will be blue skies
and I’ll feel better.
Those phrases are for you, not me.
Don’t tell me there will be other children
to love… I want THAT child.
Don’t tell me of your friend who also lost a child
and is now “Over it”.
They aren’t.
They just don’t want to hear the platitudes,
so their tears are kept at home,
in the quiet of the night.
When you tell me time will heal
I wonder how.
How will time heal a pain so deep that
it burns my heart?
How will time heal a sore that reopens
every time that anniversary or birthday comes around?
When Christmas morning comes, and I smile for the other children,
who need a normal life,
Don’t think that time has healed.
It hasn’t.
I am granny to Ewan died at 23 weeks last week and Georgia died 21 weeks 18 months ago, beautiful babies loved so much. I feel grief for my daughter, son in law and our babies and helpless to heal any pain. Thank you for your words Elsie ?
Julie, I’m so sorry. What terrible losses for you all. My daughter has said that she likes the fact that I talk about Maple, and use her name. Obviously she knows we haven’t forgotten the baby, but using her name reinforces the fact that she was here. Sending a hug from one Grandmother to another x
Every word ypu just said is something I feel. It’s like you captured the words directly from my heart. I want to say thank you. I have PTSD now. And often look for words to explain the unexplainable. Your phrase “child lost before birth” is so much more fitting than the word miscarriage. I’m going to use that from now on. It hurts my heart less to say it. My daughter Lelia Jiannah passed away December 10th, 2012. At the Memorial Walk I attend every year ( Oct 8th) I will send a baloon up for you as well. Thank you for your words. You have no idea how much they helped me. God Bless You!!! ❤❤❤❤❤
Rena, I’m so sorry for the loss of your baby. It’s difficult to describe in words the effect such a catastrophic loss has on a person. I’ll think of you on October 8th, as you send up balloons for Lelia Jiannah and Maple….and thank you.
I still feel this way 3 years after I lost my girl and a year and a half after I lost my son. It’s so hard. Thanks for this article
Beautiful. My Noah was also born beautiful and still, 6.5 months along, in November 2015. Love to you and your family.
This is the letter I wish I had sent to all my friends. But I didn’t. I explained many things to them, but they never understood. We’re not friends any more. Beautiful writing.