We are very open in society about many things, but death and grieving remains taboo. I’ve learned a lot over the past five years about myself, my marriage, my family, and my faith. I’ve learned that people do have questions, that there is misinformation out there, and generally that people don’t know what to say. So, here are the top five things that I and many other moms that I’ve met over the years would like others to know about stillbirth:
1) Our babies were not “pregnancy losses.” Luke was a baby. He had a name, he had possessions, and he had clothes I’d planned for him to wear. I went through 30 hours of labor and gave birth to him. I know that referring to him as “lost” is a euphemism for “dead,” which makes people more comfortable, but it’s OK to say he died. He was a person and he died. He’s part of our family and it hurts when others don’t understand that, even if their intentions are good.
2) It’s OK to use their names. In the early days of my grief after Luke’s death, a cousin of mine who herself had a stillborn daughter eight years prior told me, “There will come a time when the pain isn’t so raw, about to bubble to the surface. There will come a day when you can say his name and not cry.” And it’s true. I have found, though, that people don’t generally use his name. They’re afraid to upset me, I know. But believe me, the opposite is true. I know he died, and your using his name won’t remind me of something I’ve forgotten. Rather, using his name shows me that you respect his memory and is more of a gift than you will ever know.
3) We blame ourselves. This is one of the few problems that does get better with time. But it takes a long time. Our bodies betrayed us and our babies, and at the end of the day, we feel responsible. We think back over every detail of our lives, wondering if we had done just one thing differently, if it would have changed the outcome. What if I fought harder for the doctor to check things out? I slipped on the ice that February; what if it caused something to go wrong? I ate pizza. I wore black pants and socks with penguins on them. I exercised. I watched “Grey’s Anatomy.” What did I do wrong? Our friends will tell us that it isn’t our fault, our doctors will tell us, the world will tell us. But in reality, this is one of the toughest pills to swallow. It’s easier to blame yourself than to accept that which you could not, and cannot, control. Yesterday, my 17-month-old did a face plant on his way back from the park with my husband. I wasn’t even there, and I blamed myself. We’re mothers; it’s what we do.
4) Sometimes, there is no reason. There are cases where a cause for stillbirth is known, but about 50 percent of the time, no cause can be found. One way isn’t easier or better, and both render subsequent pregnancies really, really hard. In my case, we know that a malformation in the umbilical cord resulted in Luke’s death. However, when I got pregnant again, I already knew all the things that could go wrong (Google was not my friend!) and spent the better part of the next nine months in an almost-constant state of panic. Many people told me to “Enjoy my pregnancy” or “Stop worrying, it’s bad for the baby.” I’m not a fan of these statements. Whether someone has experienced a stillbirth, miscarriage, or is having a “normal” pregnancy – some people don’t enjoy pregnancy. And that’s OK. They’ll still bond with their babies and be great moms. Let’s not make them feel bad.
5) It will shake you to the core. There’s good news and bad news. Bad news first: After a stillbirth or the death of an infant or child, marriages suffer, relationships fall apart, and life feels broken. Risks of depression, suicide, and substance abuse increase. But there is good news: There is more support and information now for bereaved parents than ever before. We are not afraid to share our stories with the hope of helping others. Years ago, people were told to move on, to forget, and to “replace” their babies. Thanks to the work done by so many amazing individuals, this is beginning to change. Resources are out there, and you don’t have to go it alone. Many moms of stillborn babies, myself included, go on to have successful pregnancies and deliver healthy babies. It isn’t easy, but we do it, and we lift each other up and carry each other through the dark times.
Today, I would describe my perspective as one of quiet acceptance. I can’t change where I’ve been, and I can’t turn back time. But I appreciate all three of my children, and I often look at my 4-year-old and 17-month-old and wonder what I did to get so lucky.
I will never walk along the shore with Luke, and I will never see him grow up. Not a day goes by that I don’t wonder what he would have been like or think about what he’d be doing. I take the little coincidences in life as a hopeful sign that he is with me, watching over me.
Last year, as I walked on the beach with my then-3-year-old, we found a stick and wrote Luke’s name in the sand. A piece of driftwood washed up at my feet, and when I picked it up, it had the name “Luke” carved on it. I brought the driftwood home, and it sits on my bedside table, a reminder that while I cannot carry Luke in my arms, I will always carry him in my heart. He is my son, and I’m proud of him.
And I hope he’s proud of me too.
Suggested resources
This list is by no means exhaustive, but simply a personal selection.
Books
- “An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination: A Memoir” by Elizabeth McCracken
- “Still.” by Stephanie Paige Cole
- “Dear Cheyenne” by Dr. Joanne Cacciatore
- “Pregnancy After Loss: A Guide to Pregnancy After a Miscarriage, Stillbirth, or Infant Death” by Carol Cirulli Lanham
- “They Were Still Born” edited by Janet Atlas
Groups/organizations/websites
blogger / pomelo / 5400 posts
Glad you could put this out there for others! Luke is definitely proud of you.
GOLD / wonderful grape / 20289 posts
Great post- I think it’s very hard for people who haven’t been through this to understand or to know the right thing to say…. as there’s really no right thing. But I’ve been through miscarriage and hate when people tell me that now everything’s ok because I have my LO. It’s not ok, I still lost my baby, and I’m still very upset about that. Having one LO doesn’t make up for no longer having another.
hostess / wonderful grape / 20803 posts
Thank you for sharing your story with us. You are a very strong woman and Luke would be proud.
blogger / wonderful cherry / 21628 posts
Thank you for sharing your story.
bananas / 9118 posts
Thank you for making your experience available to our community- I am sure you are helping more people than you even realize.
I second McCracken’s book, it is so, so good.
guest
Thank you all for allowing me to share my story with you. I’m happy to answer any questions that you have.
@Artbee: I’m terribly sorry for your loss. A successful pregnancy and healthy baby does not erase grief by any means – rather it is another step along the journey. Much love to you.
hostess / wonderful persimmon / 25556 posts
Wow. Your post was very moving, thank you for sharing not just your story but information to help those of us that have never been through something like this before. We might have to help a friend in the future and it’s good to know what is okay to say to that person and what may not be taken the right way. You’re an extremely strong woman to be able to write that and tell us all your story.
honeydew / 7968 posts
thanks for sharing your story.
GOLD / wonderful apricot / 22646 posts
Thank you for sharing your powerful, intimate story. May Luke RIP and smile down upon you and his brothers.
guest
May your child be forever dancing in God’s heaven
nectarine / 2180 posts
Thank you so much for sharing. My dear friend recently lost a child and I’m struggling knowing how to be a good friend to her right now, so this was very timely for me. Blessings to you, Luke, and the rest of your family.
guest
Thank you for sharing this, I started crying as I read it while watching my son playing nearby. Whenever I hear the name “Luke” in the future, I will think of your son and his wonderful mother.
guest
Thank you for sharing your story.
I just learned today that an acquaintance (former co-worker who I still see from time to time) lost her baby last week and she was due in early June. I had just corresponded with her and shared baby tips as I have a 7 month old.
I want to reach out but I’m not sure what to say/do. Send a card with a simple message? Is that enough? Send something? A meal to make things easier? We aren’t close friends so I don’t want to intrude… thanks for any advice!
guest
@Rebecca: I’m so sorry about your friend’s baby. I still treasure the cards I received after Luke passed away. I keep them all in a box and sometimes, on his birthday or if I feel like having a good cry, I pull them out and read through them. Other things I’ve appreciated over the years include donations in Luke’s memory to MISS or Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, a small token of remembrance (I have a dove Christmas ornament that one of my sisters in law gave me in his memory), things like that. One particularly sweet person sent me a candle and a card that said “If you ever want, I’d love for you to tell me about him”. I think whatever you do, as long as it comes from your heart, will mean a lot to your friend.
guest
Thank you for those suggestions– the candle and card is making me tear up, it’s such a nice thought.
It’s so difficult to find the right words– I know that reaching out is what I would want people to do for me, so I will send her and her husband something today.
guest
Terri, Dad & I have been & are always proud of you, but never more than reading your beautiful, eloquent words about our beloved grandson, Luke. Having experienced the loss of your sister, Marion, almost 35 years ago, we know how different things are today and are so thankful that there is help out there for bereaved parents and grandparents such as ourselves. We applaud you and Matt, and Sandy and we love you all.
guest
This is just beautiful. I “lost” my daughter in Dec. 2010. I can especially relate to wanting to hear your child’s name. I would so love to hear her name…..
guest
Thank you for this. My son died when I was 36 weeks pregnant and I appreciate when people ask me about him. To know he’s in other people’s hearts helps mine. I also recommend Empty Cradle Broken Heart for grieving parents and people who love grieving parents.
guest
@Kristin: exactly – it is so helpful to know that others carry our babies in their hearts. Empty Cradle is an excellent book, thanks for bringing it up. Much love.
@Sarah: I’m so sorry about your daughter. When you whisper her name in the quiet of a sunny day, know that she is with you. xoxo
guest
Thank you for finding the words to say exactly how am I feeling, it is comforting knowing I am not alone (which I have learned very quickly how tragically common stillbirths are). Just three weeks ago, on March 5, 2012, I delivered our son Mason Zachary at 35 weeks pregnant (Mason was due on April 10th). He was born peacefully at rest weighing 4 pounds 15oz and was 19 in long. We have no answers as to why Mason died, everything seemed to be going perfectly. Being Mason’s mommy is what I am most proud of and I talk to him everyday! I had 3 miscarriages (within the 1st 8 weeks) prior to Mason, so right about now I am searching for some form of hope! Finding your blog is helpful and I thank you for sharing your story about your precious baby boy Luke xoxo.
guest
@Jamie: I am so sorry about your beautiful Mason. Please let me know if you want to talk or if there us anything I can do. Truly.
guest
@Terri- thank you so much, I may take you up on talking and I appreciate your offer!
guest
Thankyou for the book recommendations. I am going to order some to read. It’s so lovely to hear about Luke.
blogger / persimmon / 1220 posts
Thank you for sharing this.