Recently, my husband’s cousin asked him what it was like for us the day Alyssa died – to hold her and see her. She had seen pictures and said she was beautiful. I couldn’t agree more! But I wish I had been there to answer the question, to talk about my daughter and how proud I am of her.
So, what is it like to hold your dead baby? Your heart swells with love and breaks all at the same time.
My daughter was perfect, all six and a half months of her. But even if she had been much younger, I know I would’ve felt the same. Your child is perfect to you, no matter any illness, deformity, or pre-maturity. This is what every parent feels when they see their baby whom has died. I know because I’ve heard the stories.
I’ve heard the stories because it happened to me, too. Some moms don’t want to see their child because they think it will be easier for them, and it is scary. Some are not given the choice. Either way, it is not our fault that this happens. No one gave us the rule book in pregnancy loss. No one told us “just in case your baby dies, this is what you do.”
I was fortunate enough to see my beautiful daughter. I was fortunate enough to pull back her blanket and kiss all her toes and fingers. I kissed her body all over, and at her wake later that week, I kissed her lips. My husband and I cried over her so she would go with our tears. I slept with her in the hospital, still groggy from the medicine, and held her little body close to mine as I rested. We took pictures, and so did the nurse. And after she took pictures, I asked for more time with her. I stayed with her as long as I could.
I still have regrets though.
My husband was able to look at her eyes as he opened them and says they were blue, just like his. I felt that I was disrespecting my daughter, and I was scared, so I looked away. I never got to see her beautiful blue eyes. I don’t like the pictures I took with her, my hair is wild, and I’m visibly crying. My husband has a picture where he is looking lovingly down at her, and I am glad for that. I wish we had videotaped our time with her, even though she didn’t take a single breath. I didn’t know I could give her a little bath or change her, so we didn’t get to do that either. We didn’t put our wedding bands on her fingers, as many parents do, and take pictures, to then be able to put these bands back on ourselves and say “this touched my baby.” We do have her blanket and hat that she wore, but nothing you ever do is enough.
Because you only have that one chance to see and hold your child, unlike the non bereaved, who get the rest of their lives.
We are not supposed to bury our children, they are supposed to bury us. Even with everything I got to do, I still wish I had more, and more.
Perhaps doctors and nurses should talk about what to do if your baby dies, so we are not so ill prepared for that one moment in time. Perhaps, in general, society should talk about the grief of pregnancy and infant loss more often.
Friends have been surprised that I held and saw my baby, and that we have pictures. They have been surprised that I have a memorial in my home. “That is sad”, they say. Yes, it’s sad she’s gone, but her life is beautiful, and I think about my baby all the time either way. Memorializing her, talking about her-these are healthy aspects of grief. Some people mistakenly think if they mention her I will be sad. It makes me sadder that no one mentions her. She is a part of me and my family, forever. She is my daughter.
Someone told me that I shouldn’t look at her photo everyday. I was too shocked to say anything back. But now I think, why? Why shouldn’t I look at her photo every day? If your grandmother died, would you hide all her photos? Photos are pretty much all we have, and memories. Some people tell me, everyone deals with loss differently. Yes, but dealing with the loss of a child is different in its own right. So is dealing with infant and pregnancy loss. We don’t have much to hold on to, we are mad at our bodies for betraying us, and we still have to deal with all the hormones of a pregnant woman whom gave birth-but our bodies don’t know our babies our dead, and children are our future. People feel the need to give their opinions on this type of loss because society doesn’t know how to address it. So it stays quiet, hidden. When you do try to talk to people, they say all the wrong things. They think they would deal with this differently. But really, how can you know if you haven’t had a baby die?
I really hope that things will continue to change and that everyone will learn to speak more openly about infant and pregnancy loss. Nothing can prepare us for the death of our babies, but perhaps breaking the silence can open our eyes just a little to what it’s really like, first at the hospital, and then for the rest of our lives. We will never, ever forget our babies.
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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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As a great grandparent, I really have no idea in any corner of my mind how you feel or how my precious grandchildren feel after they lost their little angel man to stillbirth at 8 months. Everything was going fine and we were so excited to welcome this child into our family. I had semi retired and made big plans to enjoy him as I had never had the opportunity to enjoy any of my grandchildren or great grand children since I worked full time.
My granddaughter went for her routine appointment and casually mentioned to her OB that she had not felt Levi move that day. The Dr said we will do a quick ultrasound to make sure everything is okay, but there was no heartbeat. She was immediately sent to the hospital to be induced, once her husband was notified.
As a family, we gathered to support this young couple and to grieve with them as they went through labor and delivery. I will never forget the look on my granddaughters face when I walked back into that room and it haunts me yet today. They were so kind to allow us to hold Levi and have our pictures taken holding him. He appeared perfect in every way. Perfect little fingers, perfect little toes and a tuft of red hair, but unfortunately no cry was to be heard. We spent a few hours with them and departed to allow mom and dad private time with him. They kept him in their room all night and much of the next morning. I am sure it was a living hell on earth having to hand over that child as they prepared to leave the hospital and go to the funeral home to prepare for his burial.
One nurse and one of the chaplains was very kind to me as a grandparent. However I could not believe how very callous the physician was, who did not even make it in time to deliver the child. The nursing staff as a whole lacked a lot in showing the care and compassion needed in a situation such as this. The attitude they displayed made the whole scenario so much more painful. Please if you are a Labor and Delivery nurse, put yourself in the family’s place and show a little kindness. Take a moment to hold the moms hand or give dad a pat on the back and say how sorry you are for their loss. Their world has been shattered and can never be put back together as it was before.
My pillow is still wet with tears many many nights and Levi will soon be celebrating his 6 month birthday as an angel. He was born at 12:17 a.m. on March 24th, 2016. Perhaps your little Alyssa and he are playing together in God’s garden as we continue to grieve their passing. Your life will never be the same as ours will not, We speak of Levi often in our home and his parents picked out a lovely resting spot for him by a little pond with a lovely fountain and benches nearby. The family visits several times a month and as you said society does not understand. You hit the nail on the head when you stated ” no one wants to talk about the baby who died ” Why? This child is as much a part of our lives as any of our other children or grandchildren and loved with the same fierce pride.
I commend you for speaking out on this subject that should be addressed freely, both during any pregnancy and certainly if the unimaginable happens. My heart hurts for you Melissa and also for Kathy. Again I cannot begin to imagine your pain and grief but I certainly know the level of pain a grandparent suffers through this journey that no one wants to let us talk about, and I too have to ask WHY.
True witness to what I feel as well. Thank you
Thank you so much for this post, everything I wanted to say and more. Love to you ❤ I am also a part time school nurse! And lost my daughter at 7 months. Hugs to you and thanks for raising awareness k x x x