Archives for August 2013

Help to See This One Through

Told by: Amanda

My son was born still on May 13, 2008. He was 39 weeks gestation. I remember it like it was yesterday. I had went to the hospital on a Saturday night, because I went to use the restroom and my water broke. When I got there, the Doctors did not check to see if it was still in tact. They hooked me up to monitors and said baby was doing fine and sent me on my way. The next day Mothers day of 2008, and I remember eating and him kicking over and over again. I didn’t know then that, that would be the last time I felt him move.

The next night I realized that I had not felt him kick all day. I decided to go to the hospital as Braxton hicks were coming on, and without any movement I was worried. As soon as I got there they immediately hooked me up to the monitors, and the nurse had a worried look on her face. As soon as she said, “I’ll be back I have to get the doctor.” I immediately started crying and panicking.

The doctor came into the room and hooked me up to another machine, and said, “I’m sorry but he has passed away.” Next thing I know my fiancé (at the time) hit the floor. He had passed out, and nurses flooded in to place salt under his nose to wake make him come to. I on the other hand only remember screaming “NO” through my uncontrollable sobbing. According to family and friends, I must have went into shock.

Once the crying stopped I started making phone calls, and was told that I was completely calm in letting them know. The doctor then slapped his hands together and told me that we need to “Get this show on the road” I wanted to hurt that man. More than I’d ever wanted to hurt anyone in my entire life. His unsympathetic nature, made me sick.

After that moment, the rest became a blur. I don’t know if it was the shock or what, but the next two months I don’t remember anything. I do have regrets. I never held my child, because at the time I didn’t think I could handle it. I wish now I would have. My life was meaningless without him. The father couldn’t handle the pain. He turned to drugs, and sadly I left him. I have had four miscarriages since his death. I am now pregnant again, and praying that my little Guardian Angel will help me see this one through.

 

 

Saddest Day of My Life

Told by: Lisa

I lost my baby 2 weeks ago.

I was 22 weeks, and went for my routine ultrasound, excited to find out what we where gonna have, my son and husband came with.

Doctor was taking forever, so took my son to see a family member after her surgery. Husband came back, finally got called into room, nurse started ultrasound, only to leave the room.

I knew something wasn’t right.

Doctor came in to inform me there was no heartbeat.

Saddest day of my life.

The Missions Field of Mourning

Pregnancy and infant loss knows no boundaries.

It touches every continent, every culture, every community.

Stillbirthday aims to do the same.

 

The perspectives, traditions, customs and philosophies surrounding birth & bereavement are many, and include the aspects of:

  • pre-conception
  • conception
  • gestation
  • birth
  • personhood
  • motherhood
  • parenthood
  • family structure
  • death
  • mourning

When we think of the missions field, stereotypical images and words may be the first to enter our minds:

Savages.

If we’re honest, we think of exotic lands filled with savages, and if only they could know that Jesus Christ is a very real person, who really died for them, who is the only way into Heaven

if they would just listen to us

then we could bring them their only hope and their only beauty:

Salvation.

And if we’re honest, those who are not Christian, think of those of us who are as sharply arrogant, justifying our own divisiveness in the name of the Lord but who, in the same breath, claim to be the victims of outrageous discrimination; we Christians can be ruthlessly narrow-minded.

Persecution.

So, what is it like, to be a Christian, Caucasian American woman who is the founder of a global resource for birth and bereavement?

It is so much more than a hobby, an idea, a ministry or a work.

Birth & Bereavement is a missions field.

But to articulate this correctly, I do need to make sure that you know what I mean by a missions field.

  • 1. Birth & Bereavement is a place filled with real people, who hold to traditions, customs and beliefs that are as ancient as history and feelings as fresh and raw as rain.

It is never the one sided giving relationship most people might think it is.  It is always an exchange, that grows everyone involved.  It faces stereotypes, emotionally charging terminology and starkly different morals, values and beliefs in ways that promote a shared humanity and reveal an uncharted potential for love.

 

  • 2. It is filled with the most gorgeous hues of hope, the most stunning shades of life and the most vibrant colors of love.

It is to sojourn to a land that is familiar and foreign all at the same time.

Just as in the very word “missions”, Birth & Bereavement is so much more than many people would think it is.

{photo source}

  • 3. It is riddled with darkness, despair, wars on many fronts and attacks from all directions.  Intruders in the night creep in to rob us of the very sustenance we need, to rape our vulnerable spirits and to plunder our hope.  The persecution is real. 

And, no, I do not use these descriptives lightly at all.

  • 4. It is an all-consuming work.

It is a misunderstood work.  It is a lonely work.  It rips into every belief we have ever held.  It requires sacrifice to the deepest degree.  The result of these conditions can eat into our own health, in every way and on every level.  It requires explanation of the umpteenth time to our loved ones – and to ourselves – why we persevere.  It offers little rest.  Each need is not the next to serve but is the first all over again.  Preparation, education and training are essential, but so is humility and so is endurance.  It requires a delicate dance of daring to allow ourselves to be seen while simultaneously mirroring back to those we are serving.  It demands vulnerability.

  • 5. The fruit of the labor is global, and eternal.

It is neither a denominational effort nor a doctrinal agenda.  The rewards are not shiny and the accolades are not shouted.  The feedback is but a whisper.  It is in the breath of the bereaved and weary mother who sighs in forlorn, as she wearily pulls her feet forward anyway even when the will to live has escaped her.   It is in the unseen moments, long after our work is done, when the weary traveler discovers the bend in the journey where grief unfolds into healing.

 

It is a work that requires workers of all skills and abilities and demands the participation of many degrees.  Here are but a few:

Whoever you are, wherever you are, you are invited.

What’s more, you are needed.

 

 

 

 

 

Supporting Birth Diversity means…

We here at stillbirthday support birth & bereavement diversity.

 

Diversity

Embracing our similarities while celebrating our differences.

Birth Diversity

  • Every mother has a right to her own interpretation of her own experiences.
  • We are prepared to validate and support to the depths of our well, and for us, this begins with the acknowledgement that birth occurs in any trimester, and it follows through by slowing down, asking questions, and validating the mother and family as we mirror back to them their interpretation so that we can best support them.
  • We support birth – all birth.  This includes:
    • uncomplicated, uneventful live birth, and all related birth plans and decisions.
    • NICU, adoption, surrogacy, ART, birth trauma, pregnancy and infant loss.
  • Our experiences of birth and of bereavement are profoundly intimate and personal, and yet they have an irrefutable influence on our family, our community and even our global culture.  Supporting Birth Diversity means to hold these truths with reverence.
  • We provide support prior to, during and after birth in any trimester and in any outcome.
  • Every bereaved individual has the right and the potential to give birth to healing.

Bereavement Diversity

  • Supporting bereavement diversity is intricately and intrinsically connected to supporting birth diversity, because of the inclusion of giving birth to healing and mothering our mourning.
  • Pregnancy and infant loss knows no boundaries.  It touches every continent, culture and community.  We aim to do the same.
  • We have an extensive network of support resources for bereaved families as they become pregnant with grief, as they labor toward healing, and as they learn how to parent their mourning by providing it with both the permission and discipline it needs to stay healthy.

“When a woman conceives her true self, a miracle occurs and life around her begins again.” 

~Marianne Williamson

Get Involved

Send your photo to: Heidi.Faith@stillbirthday.info, to be added here!  Show in your photo what SBD means to you:

  • Supporting Birth Diversity
  • Supporting Bereavement Diversity
  • Stillbirthday Birth & Bereavement Doula
  • A pregnancy loss is still a birthday
  • StillBirthDay

Supporting Birth Diversity means…

 

 

“…my family is diverse, and, I know the diverse ways that God used to knit our family together.” 

 

 

 

 

~~~~~

 

“…supporting my birth choices. 

These photos were taken while I was 8cm dilated during the homebirth of our youngest son.”

My oldest son (my rainbow baby) is loved and raised by my husband as if he is his own.  Our daughters were grafted into our family tree by adoption.  Our two younger sons are the fruit of my womb after a successful vasectomy reversal. My two photographs shared here (with photographer credit) represent birth diversity.

 

 

 

~~~~~

“…respecting that alternative families are families.”

beautifulThe first SBD doula I contacted was open, inquisitive, and supportive.  She gave me a wealth of information, resources, knowledge, time and love.  She was very upfront that our family wasn’t one she was morally comfortable or familiar with supporting, but she was willing to learn where she could stretch her own boundaries through seeing my needs.  She referred us to another doula when the time was right for all of us, but she supported us very well up until then, and she met with us several times afterward, and so did the other doula, who was also great.  They both gave my partner and I so much, but it was the support of the first doula that stood out to me the most.  She really impacted me, and that impacted my labor and birth.  I am very pleased.

{photo source}

 

 

 

~~~

 

“…honoring that NICU grief is real.”

I had 3 Trisomy babies pass away. Micah passed away in the womb – Sophia lived 23 days – & Angel passed away in the womb. I do not have any images of Angel, unfortunately.

 

 

~~~~~

“…the birth of my beloved, deceased son, Arik, at 27 weeks gestation, is still a birth.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~~~~~

“…including the whole family and never forgetting any child no matter how small.”   This is set up in our home so we can all go to it whenever we need to. Elizabeth was stillborn at 7 months gestation and Zeth was stillborn at 23 weeks gestation.

 

 

 

~~~~~

 “…my husband can still adopt my baby who was born through miscarriage before we met and married.”

 

 

 

 

~~~~~

 “…I can speak the truth, that my midwife failed us, and here is a place I am really heard and finally not shunned.”

Birth Stories & Baby Photos

You are invited to write your baby’s birth story, and to share your baby’s photos, to be held here at stillbirthday.  It is our deepest hope that you will find the support you need before birth, during birth, and after birth in any trimester.  We hope that by sharing your baby’s birth story with us, and reading ours, it will be the beginning of our shared journey toward healing.

Just use our sharing page to get started.

Why Can’t We Know Why?

Told by: Kisha

On July 30 I had a ultrasound to confirm my pregnancy. Yesterday I went back for the complete exam and another ultrasound to check the baby’s measurements.

I was 8 weeks and measurements were accurate but there was no heart beat.

I have two children and I had already shared with them the news. They were so hurt when I told them about the doctor visit.

I had an ectopic pregnancy in November 2012 so now I am wondering about my body. I don’t know if my body is not in shape to have more kids or what. I also wonder what my husband feels about me or if he blames me. He is really not himself right now. I have my D&C this Monday 8/12 and I just want to feel normal again.

I wish I had an answer to this but I don’t. I’m angry and sad, and hurt. I am not sure I want to try again. This is a pain I don’t want to feel again or want anyone else to feel. But the sad thing is it happens to families every day and there is no explanation why. Not knowing why makes it harder to accept for me.

 

 

Bereaved Mother Builds Playground

From the SBD News Team

Jessica, the mom to three daughters who were murdered by their father, plans to sell her daughters’ artwork to help pay for a playground.

Bids on the girls’ artwork will be taken at the gallery in person and over the phone through Aug. 21.

The gallery address is:

Gallery 120

120 North Main St.

River Falls, Wis. 54022

(715) 426-5366

Unlimited Play is helping to bring this vision to fruition.

 

Related: Birth & Bereavement Activism, and other Farewell Celebrations
You can click here to watch the Yahoo News video:

 

 

The Dozier Families

From the SBD News Team

 

Florida’s cabinet approved the proposal by University of South Florida forensic anthropology team to exhume the bodies of boys buried at the grounds of Arthur G. Dozier School of Boys.

Suspected grave sites, unmarked for years, have been temporarily marked with plastic tubing, when in 2011 the facility was shut down due to allegations of torture.

Records indicate 98 boys died between 1914 and 1973 – but there is no certainty on how many boys died, or how many bodies are buried at the property.

Many of the deceased boys are believed to be African American, and between the ages of 6 to 18 years old.

The proposal to exhume these bodies has been approved for one year.

Attorney General Pam Bondi said, “all these kids, they deserve proper burials, and that’s what we’re going to give them.”

To the families, who’ve spent years, grieving their sons, who were told “you’d better forget it” when they asked about their child, who now wait, who are undergoing DNA testing, who are hopeful to have answers, to have a connection, to have a proper farewell, who are hoping to finally mourn their beloved child with dignity intact, please, please, may you know, that we at stillbirthday are thankful that you did not “forget it”.  We are humbled by your courage, your endurance, your grace.  May you mourn with dignity.

Our country still aches, still groans, from the years of deep racism and penetrating hatred and fear of the color of skin we don’t wear.  This new year-long proposal, and the new facet of the grief journey it will surely reveal, may it not reignite smoldering racism or empty justification for evil.

Our ancestors have made some terribly poor choices, and the only way to bring real healing is for these terribly, tragically, poor choices to be revealed, to be acknowledged, to be admitted, to be forgiven.  This, is the only way.  And we all, have our part in this process and journey.

May we embrace this very difficult journey, together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Esme is Our Blessing

Told by: Erin

I love birth stories. I love hearing the hard roads mama’s travel to bring their babies into the world, the stories are always exciting and loving. In honor of Esme’s due date (August 8), we have decided to share Esme’s (still)Birth Story. Our daughter, Esme Halyn, passed at 24 weeks 3 days. We learned during the pregnancy that there were several complications and she wasn’t expected to survive. When she passed, we began waiting for my body to go into labor. We actively waited 3 weeks; during this time trying acupuncture, herbs, etc., but finally decided we were ready to try more before it was medically necessary to go to be induced at a hospital. So, on Monday May 13 (our 7th wedding anniversary) at 9:51am I began taking Cytotec to induce labor. We desired to deliver Esme at the birthing center. That was her birth plan. That is where her sister was born. That is where we are comfortable and where we knew we would have the space and freedom to explore and love her as we desired after she was delivered.

The Cytotec began to take effect quickly. Within 10 minutes, I was experiencing cramping. When we returned home from our appointment at the birth center that morning, Joel got to work to finish up what he needed to and I packed our bags and played with Salem. Well, I tried to play with Salem but eventually we just sat and watched the iPad because I didn’t feel up for too much since the cramping was quickly becoming more strong. When Salem went down for her nap that afternoon, I decided to lay down as well and was able to take a little nap. Within 20 minutes after I awoke the uncomfortable cramping feelings turned to contractions and picked up speed quick, coming almost every minute for a while. During this time our friend, Linda, had stopped by and we ended up sending Salem on with her, as we expected the delivery to come soon. But unfortunately things slowed down, and I had to take another dose of Cytotec at 3:30pm… and we waited for labor to build again. My husband’s parents arrived in town at 5pm and we sat in the den chatting. Well, they chatted and I laid on the couch counting contractions and breathing through them. The contractions had built again to every two minutes, and lasting over a minute. We touched base with our midwife and the decision was made at 6:15pm to head to the birthing center. I wasn’t much help getting out the door since at this point I was needing to lean over to endure the contractions, but my husband, Joel, gathered our stuff (he even made a smoothie for me!) On the way to the birthing center, the contractions had built in intensity. At this point, I was having to squeeze the door handle and was groaning to endure the pain. We hit awful traffic on the highway due to a wreck, but thankfully it moved fast. I was aware, yet simultaneously oblivious to it, since I was in labor land. While on the drive contractions eased up enough for me to throw up, but returned with a vengeance at the birthing center (we arrived at 6:40pm). We made our way to a birthing room in the back and I took the liberty to try to make myself comfortable — yet to no avail. I tried laying on the bed, squatting on the floor, etc. The contractions were more painful than I had anticipated and it was more difficult to play the mind games and work through the contractions than with Salem’s labor because I couldn’t tell myself the same things — this process was not going to end the same way.

At one point I was on my hands and knees on the bed and just starting crying, “I can’t do this. Its harder than I thought. I just want to be done.” I eventually resumed laying on my side and squeezing Joel’s hand through contractions. They were painful and I was still having a hard time relaxing. I remember saying often, “I just want to push, I want this to be done.” Around this time I felt the contractions easing up and I became disappointed. Even though it was painful, I didn’t want it to end until it ended with her delivery. I did not want to have to take another dose of Cytotec. Christine, my midwife, had recommended that moving would help. I didn’t want to move, but a few minutes later I reluctantly decided to get up and go to the bathroom (Joel came with me, he was always with me). I sat on the toilet for a few minutes and as I stood up to wash my hands I felt something different going on and immediately hit the floor on my knees. I yelled to the other room, “something’s happening!”

Christine came to bathroom and Joel’s mother was sent to get the other midwife. I reached down and felt her and said, “she’s coming!” Christine laid an absorbent pad on the floor since it was obvious I was going to deliver her right there. I was able to give one big push and she was delivered. She came out in her sack (which is considered a blessing!), it was perfect. Esme Halyn was delivered at 7:16pm. We transitioned me and Esme from the bathroom to the bed where Christine opened the sack so we could get Esme out. We were mesmerized and simply stared at her. She was our daughter and she was perfect. We explored her tiny body. From her head to her toes. Her skin was fragile. She had finger prints and her open mouth revealed her tiny tongue. When wrapped in her blanket her lifeless body presumed the position familiar to us from the ultrasounds with her left arm crossing her chest and and laying against her cheek. She is ours.

For two hours we passed her around, holding her, staring at her, loving on her. It was a peaceful and loving time. I was surprised at my reaction. I thought I would see her and sob. But instead I had a “it is finished” feeling. I felt guilty at the relief I was experiencing, but more enjoyed the freedom to be there and adore her.

As I was laying on my side with her close to my chest (some time later), a man dressed in a black suit carrying a black bag entered the room. My sobs began. He was there to take my daughter away. Yes, she was gone, she had passed. But she was still with me. But he… he was going to take her and this would be the last I ever held her on this earth. We had prepared our hearts for this time (as best we could), so we said our final goodbyes and kissed her sweet face. When she left, we cried some more but then we packed up and left as well. And it was as hard as I thought it would be leaving the birth center without my baby. Esme’s labor and delivery was perfect to us. It is wild how similar Esme and her big sister’s stories are, and yet, how vastly different experiences they were. During labors with both girls, I napped while labor was gearing up, I labored laying on my side on our couch, and both girls were delivered quickly upon arriving at the birthing center. It is crazy, but it is such a gift to me that it was a bit of a shared experience. One of the hardest things since that day is the “I just want to hold her” feeling. We miss her deeply and long for the day to kiss her face again. Our unique daughter who is deeply loved, Esme Halyn.

I Love You Now & Forever

Written by: Yvette

Little girl you left so soon. I wept so hard and so long but my tears would not return you. You were both my blessing and my agony. I knew not how I would ever go on. But relentless, time refused to stop and sit by me on the floor while I cried. It forced me up and onward. Forward through so many more losses. Agony blurring into agony. I clung to you then as though you were my promise. Your loss had not killed me. It would make me stronger… and deliver me a living baby. And then it came. The most beautiful sound on earth. The cry of a newborn child. My child. Healthy and strong. My heart broke open that day for the agony I had suffered, and was instantly filled with the joy this new child brought. She is my blessing and my agony. A constant reminder of all I have and all I have lost. Never a day creeps by when I don’t look at her and think of you. Not a day when I do not gaze into her eyes and wonder whether you gazed into them before me. Not a day when I do not think you whispered in this little soul’s ear and asked her to go to go to me, to ease my pain and help mend my shattered heart. Not a day when I do not thank you for that act of love. One day many years from now you will come to me and slip your tiny hand in mine and gaze into my eyes and say “Mummy, it’s time to come home now.” Until then my darling, you live in my heart. I love you now and forever my darling… Annabelle.

 

 

Stillbirthday invites you to learn about our Love Letters collection and to share yours with us.

The SBD® Doula provides support to families experiencing birth in any trimester and in any outcome.

Here at stillbirthday.info, you can learn about the SBD® Doula.