I didn’t hold my son.
When I found out his heart had stopped beating, I couldn’t think straight. Honestly, I didn’t believe the doctor when he told me. This didn’t happen to people in this century, especially at thirty-eight weeks. We had made it through the safe periods, it couldn’t have been true. Then when we went to the hospital and they confirmed he was gone for the third and fourth time, it started to sink in. It’s when I first felt his stillness in my belly, while everything else seemed to be exploding. I remember looking at my mom and telling her I didn’t want to see him when he was born.
Actually, I asked her through my tears, ‘how can I see my dead baby come out of me?’
That was the first time I acknowledged him being gone, but his body was still there. All I kept saying was that I couldn’t see him and how was I supposed to just give him back. When the nurses were telling me how babies look after they had passed, I didn’t listen. I told them my wishes and that I didn’t want any baby things in my room. They wheeled out everything and it was just empty. It all felt that way besides the fullness in my stomach, but he still didn’t feel like he had just the day before.
After they had induced me, they let me know I was most likely going to have a long labor, at least twenty-four hours. I thought I’d have the whole next day to plan, maybe even research or reach out for support. His body has different plans, he came out so silently in just five hours. Up until that moment, I still had the slightest hope he would come out screaming. He didn’t. The nurses listened to my pleads of not seeing him and they swept him off in the room next to me. It was even more quiet in there as the nurses went with him to clean him up.
I almost asked for him to be brought back in the room when they came back in to tell me about him.
My whole body had ached for him. The past thirty-eight weeks and two days, I dreamed of what he would look like. Even though I saw him twice a week, there was still so much wonder to him. Yet, death scared me. I didn’t just want to look at him and see what had been stolen. Both had tugged on me, I knew it would be the only chance to ever see him in this life. When the nurse came back in the room, I believed she’d help me make a decision that would be a no-brainer for any other parent.
She covered me up with a heated blanket as I started to shake. I asked her about his hair and if he had ten fingers and toes. Every question I asked, she excitedly answered. Then I’ll never forget her next response; I asked her how he looked, trying to gain confidence to have him brought to my arms. She quizzically looked at me and I told her just a thumbs up or down. Instead of either one, she waved her hand in a so-so fashion. That was it. Right after her nonchalant answer, my parents came in the room crying.
They told me not to see him.
We left the hospital without him, without the other half of my heart. My mom and dad described him so many times during the ride home and those first few days after. I can vividly remember being at the funeral home and the directors kept telling me how perfect he was. She exclaimed about his big cheeks, button nose, and blond hair.I had only asked her for one thing though, a lock of his curly blond wisps. Every part of me wanted to go to where he was, grab his body, and run away. It made me feel crazy to just want to take him home and study every part of him. Maybe if I held him, he’d magically come back. All these crazy thoughts just made me feel worse.
The longer timed had passed from his birth, the worse I had felt about my decision.
What if Jensen didn’t think I love him because I didn’t hold him after he was born? Did he think he wasn’t important to me? If I did hold him, would I have been able to give him back? Would I have felt even more crazy than I did now? Was I even a good mom?
It’s taken a long time for me to be semi okay with that decision I made. There are times I just cry and wish I could go back to that day to just give him a kiss, but I didn’t. Sometimes I read how people don’t understand how a mom or dad can’t hold their baby and it crushes me. It feels like I have to keep this part of my story a secret and I shouldn’t. Neither should any mom who didn’t hold their baby after they were stillborn. I did the best for me at that time with the information I had.
Just because I didn’t hold him doesn’t make me this heartless person.
Just because I didn’t hold him doesn’t mean my motherhood isn’t validated.
Just because I didn’t hold him doesn’t mean my story isn’t as important as someone else’s.
Just because I didn’t hold him doesn’t mean I don’t love him any less than any other mom.
Just because I didn’t hold him it doesn’t mean he’s made at more or loves me any less.
Everyone’s story is different and they’re each as heartbreakingly beautiful as the one before and after. There are many things moms and dads wish they would’ve done differently at that time, but we all did the best thing for our hearts at that time.
**This is part I of II. Come back Wednesday for Part II.
- I am a mother, too. - May 12, 2017
- Mothering Jensen – The Mothering Project - May 8, 2017
- Dear Beautiful Mother on Your Child’s First Birthday - April 5, 2017
I didn’t hold my 36 weeks stillborn daughter either. When I came to..it was just the two of us in the room, with her lying covered up on the table. When I lifted the sheet to look at her…she looked so perfectly peaceful as she was, I decided that was the memory I wished to keep of her.
Your story is so incredibly brave and true for you to tell. I woke up from a life support machine 2 days after being incredible poorly and taken down to theatre thinking I was having my appendix removed. I woke up to find out I had had over 21 foot of my small bowel removed and that my baby girl who I was 7 months pregnant with at the time had been delivered via Caesarean section. All whilst I was fighting for my life in a ventilator. My body was in complete shock with everything and at first I said I didn’t want to meet her. I was so glad that I came around in the end but I now regret that I didn’t hold her long enough, that I didn’t keep her with me or take some of her hair. It’s so incredibly hard to cradle your baby who has passed away in your arms and no matter whether you hold them or not your mind will always find a way of making you feel guilty about something… Be kind to yourself sweetheart xx
As I sit here sobbing I want to thank you for your bravery in sharing this. My firstborn died suddenly when he was 7 months old and I did not hold him after he died. It’s something that still torments me daily, almost two years later. Thank you for sharing your story and helping to ease my guilt if even a little bit. All my love and strength to you. It does not get easier, but you will continue to get stronger ?
So well written…All amazing women! I too was faced with this agonizing decision. I work in newborn and pediatrics and I thought I knew what I would do in the situation. I did not know…I agonized over it. In the end I did hold and spend time with my tiny little daughter when she was born quietly at 16 weeks and 4 days. Everyone does what it right for them in the moment. Whatever you do your life and the lives of those that are close to you are changed forever in that moment. Be gentle with yourself and give your soul space to live through the terrible grief and loneliness. ((((Hugs)))) to everyone….
This story hit a soft soft for me because I didn’t hold my baby born sleeping either. My son Louis was stillborn at 34 weeks. I chose not to hold him because I felt that it would make the pain of losing him a million times worse. Some of my family members held him and I did keep him in the room with me while I was in the hospital. I sometimes think that I made a mistake by not holding home, but I didn’t think that means I loved my child any less. I have pictures that me and my family took. And the hospital sent someone to take professional pictures. I also was able to give my son a proper burial and funeral so I can go talk to him anytime
I lost my daughter at 21 weeks without so much as a tiny hint before hand. Neither of us saw her. No one did. We have her footprints and that is all. I’ve often wondered if I did the wrong thing but we just couldn’t do it.
Thank you for sharing this. I also lost my son at 38 weeks 2 days. I chose to hold him but I also have regrets. I wish I spent more time with him, I wish I had a funeral for him. I just tell myself “you did what you could at the time”.
This story sent shockwaves through my soul I felt I was reading my story.. it’s taken therapy for me to understand that sometimes your brain takes over and makes decisions for you when you are in shock… my family took pictures of my daughter and I’ve since looked at her and made piece with my decision. I’m comforted by the fact that while she was living in me for 30 weeks, she felt nothing but my love for her… thank you for sharing your story… wish I’d read this last yr Feb when I lost her….
I choose not to hold my daughter but I knew I just couldn’t let her go when it was time. The thought of having her be taken from my arms was unbearable. So instead they laid her next to me and I got to look at her and take pictures of her that waa bearable for me. But it killed when it was time for her to leave and worse when we had to bury her.
I’m so so sorry for your loss. It’s a really tough decision and nothing that anyone can judge. You did what you thought was right at the time. My heart aches for you. <3
I didn’t hold mine either. It is what I regret most. I did not know it was an option. My situation was different but I feel and fear the same.