Support for birth. Support for bereavement. Support for you.
Shared by: Emily
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This candle will burn all day today in honor & memory of Cannon Forrest , my son who is in heaven celebrating his 10th birthday !!
This is my memorial to the short life he lived, those 5 months of life will never be forgotten .
5-10-2003
These are Cannon’s feet. 5 months in utero.
Shared by: Jill
My son and daughters resting place.
We lost Alfie-Logan due to placental abruption on 21 august 2005 and then his big sister Tegan-Summer 14 months later at the age of 4 to pneumonia.
Not a minute goes by that I do not think of them and I also made a support group to support families and so on with grief support.
Shared by: Desiree
Happy Stillbirthday to my baby Joshua. He was born on Mothers day 3 years ago.
He only lived for 2 hours before he left us. In our arms a short time but forever in our hearts!
My parents met in Las Vegas. Both raised in conservative Christian homes, and both rebelling.
Both addicted to drugs.
Both criminals.
The day my mom began labor, my dad fell asleep, drunk on the couch, but not before telling my mom “You’d better only wake me up if it’s really time to go.”
Through the night, my mom labored quietly, tip toeing through the apartment, through his snoring, through the increasingly painful contractions.
Laboring me, her “rainbow” baby. My older sister was born still.
Finally, in the darkest hours of morning, she woke him up.
Still recovering from an evening of drugs and alcohol, my dad started the motorcycle.
Nine months pregnant and laboring, my mom straddled the motorcycle behind him.
They pulled up to the front of the hospital. He waited for her to get off. Then he rode away to the bar to start his morning and wait for her call. She walked into the hospital, alone.
I was born at 3 in the morning.
A few years later, a few abuses later, I was placed in foster care.
Because I wasn’t adoptable, I was relocated. A lot.
“Relocated” means, some of my things were put in black trash bags. Some of my things were forgotten. Some were left behind. Some were stolen.
“Relocated” means, new strangers to live with. New rules to learn. New people to call family.
“Relocated” means, new academic standards and lessons; things I hadn’t yet learned. New bullies.
This week, a D.J. from my local Christian radio station asked, “What has your mother given you?”
And, I find the question gives me pause.
My mother, well, has always been a mother, even through the separation, the years, the families and the relocations.
She’s been a mother, without me.
And, my need for a mother, went on, without her.
Very special women were a part of my life, if even for a moment.
A girls group home took me to get my first training bra.
A foster mother bought my first tampons.
A special woman named Jan Evans, to think of her love, brings me to tears, even today.
And today, my mother-in-law has had such a big role in loving me.
My girlfriends, let me just blurt out my confusions, my fears and my frustrations.
Through what my mother wasn’t for me, what she hasn’t given me, I have learned more richly, what a mother is.
And if you have struggled with fertility, but you can only see your children in your dreams,
If you have given birth to one or more babies via miscarriage, elective abortion or stillbirth,
If any of your children have been cremated or buried or reabsorbed or flushed,
If your reality is overlooked this Mother’s day,
If you feel excluded, left out, ignored, trivialized,
If you feel your pain is hidden, misunderstood, silenced,
You are still a Mother.
So, you have a decision to make.
How are you going to Mother, particularly on this Mother’s day?
Are you anticipating feeling disappointed with how your motherhood won’t be acknowledged?
Or are you preparing your heart to submit to humility, to give grace, and to mother those around you by sharing your wisdom, that your role of motherhood has given you? You have a truth, worthy to be heard and shared and given.
Instead of dreading what you won’t have, and what you won’t get, dare to enter into Mother’s day seeking what you will give.
3 John 1:4 (Amplified Bible) I have no greater joy than this, to hear that my [spiritual] children are living their lives in the Truth.
The rumor behind this photo is that the mama tiger’s babies died,
and so the zookeepers wrapped piglets in tiger skin, and she took them as her own.
This rumor isn’t true – but the photo is still darling.
Told by: Erica
I just had my third miscarriage. Fourth heaven born baby. This one has been my hardest. My other pregnancies were from bad situations and didn’t have the same impact as losing a child with someone you love by your side and grieving too.
I don’t exactly mean to imply that losing my other children wasn’t hard. All of my losses were hard but I went through them alone and no one understood so I forced myself to heal faster so I could stop hearing people say that it was just a miscarriage, what’s the big deal, and other things like that. This one was harder because I not only had to contend with my grief but with my boyfriends grief as well. We both still feel the loss and so it’s hard because we seem to grieve more together than I was able to when I was alone.
My boyfriend and I both knew the day we conceived. It was a total “oops” moment where the condom slipped, of all things. We both knew in that moment that we had conceived and once I missed my next period we decided to wait a few weeks and just enjoy the idea of a child, even though we knew because of my past I would have a very hard time carrying this child. We were both sure we were having a boy and we were getting excited.
Then one day, a couple days past seven weeks, I started spotting. I didn’t say anything at first because I knew what was happening. The next day I continued to miscarry and began cramping horribly which alerted my boyfriend to something being wrong, and so I had to tell him. We opted for a natural miscarriage together and I spent the next 3 days cramping and mourning the loss of another child. We named our son Ethan Daniel. He was born into heaven on April 5th 2013 and I can’t wait to see him in heaven one day.
Told by: Marcella
I was 18 when I lost my baby girl. She grew her wings on May 22nd 2000. When I found out I was pregnant with my little girl I couldn’t wait to go in for a scan and listen to the heart beat.
When I was around 5 months, I found out what I was having, I was having a girl! I couldn’t wait to buy her pink clothes. I was sick at the start of my pregnancy but then I was ok. At around 6 months, they kept me in, because I had protein in my urine, high blood pressure and swelling in my feet. When I was better I was allowed home. At 7 months I was feeling too good, so I went to the doctor and he said I was OK and so was my baby, so I went home. I thought this was all normal so I loved feeling my baby kick and doing summersaults inside me. It was so funny we had our own music just me and my baby. Every time I listened to a certain song she would kick or when I’d have a bath she would kick so at 8 months, I went for my check up. It was on a Thursday. The doctor said they would bring me in the following week because she stopped growing and I had preeclampsia so then I went to another doctor, and she checked my blood pressure. She said it was up a bit so she sent me home. As I left the room it was like I was walking on air, i felt so weak and so light headed. I thought it was normal. I didn’t know what was going to happen that Friday. I went in to get bits and bobs for my baby girl. I couldn’t wait to see her so the next day, Saturday, while I was getting my room sorted.
My mom helped me. I was kneeling down folding clothes when then I could feel someting dropping down from under me. I didn’t take notice like, I thought it was normal. Sunday came, and I didn’t feel too good so a friend and I went to the hospital. I didn’t feel her all day Saturday or Sunday so we went in. I had to wait for a while then it was my turn. I told the nurse that I hadn’t felt her moving, so she listened to her on a stethoscope. She couldn’t hear her, so she put the trace on me, and still couldn’t find her heart beat, so then I got a scan.
This is when my nightmare just began. They told me my baby passed away. Well I just flipped. I couldn’t take it in. I wanted to go home. They had to hold me down. They said I had to be kept in. They gave me stuff to bring on labour. I couldn’t take it in. I was in shock when my labour started. The nurse didn’t know I was in labour. My friend had to tell her, so then they brought me to the labour ward.
I started pushing. They dosed me up with morphine or some kind of pain relief. I was out of my head when I was pushing. My baby girls head dropped down my pelvis. The doctor didn’t know I was out of my head. I even knew it. With 3 pushes she was born.
At 3:05 Monday morning, May 22, 2000 my little girl was born.
She was so perfect. Ten fingers ten toes. I got to hold her, I changed her, took lots of photos, I got to Christen her and named her Lea. I had her all day Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. On Wednesday I had to organize her funeral flowers and stuff so then went back. I couldn’t be out for long. Her funeral was on a Thursday. She had a lovely white coffin. I was able to hold her while the priest was doing the mass. The mass was in the hospital and I couldn’t take it in. She was leaving me. We buried her with her two uncles so she wasn’t alone.
I miss her so much. I had to be back at the hospital for my sister. I booked a room for afterward because I couldn’t stay. I was getting weak and dizzy so I left. A friend and I went back to the hospital that night. I was getting a shower; a nurse had to wash me. I was in shock, my head was spinning, I just wanted to die. I stayed in until Saturday. Then I went home. I had to start my life without my baby girl.
Lea, I miss you loads baby. Mammy loves you, forever.
Certified Birth & Bereavement Doula® serving St. Paul Minnesota
Email: SheilaHolz.SBD@stillbirthday.info
Trained in Psychological First Aid
Serving: South Metro Area of Minneapolis, St Paul, MN
The loss of a baby is always a tragedy. Whether the loss is by miscarriage, stillbirth or death shortly after birth, a member of a family has been lost. A piece of their heart is forever gone.
The Sunday before Mothers day is International Bereaved Mothers day. It is a day founded by Carly Marie of Project Heal, in honor of her son Christian, and all of our children.
It is also Day of the Midwife.
Families who endure unexpected infant loss when planning a midwife attended homebirth may face unique challenges in their bereavement journey, and while stillbirthday supports out-of-hospital birth as a valid option, we first and foremost desire to create an environment here where all bereaved families and the professionals who care for them feel supported.
Many, many midwives have brought a very special role to birth and/or to bereavement.
Ina May Gaskin, the former President of Midwives Alliance of North America (MANA), is a mother who herself gave birth to a precious baby boy, Christian, who did not live. Ina May has trailblazed in providing awareness to birthing options for mothers (in particular, planned homebirth), and yet her entire lifetime career hearkens me back to those days, so long ago, that hold her Christian’s story.
I imagine that wild child, so many years ago, giving birth to such a tiny baby.
In my heart, I see a young mother, holding her precious, tiny – so tiny – little boy, begging him to gain strength. Hoping. Fearful. Praying.
And then, to have the news passed around to her traveling caravan. To prepare a simple ceremony – I wonder what that process was like for her. What feelings she had. If she felt understood and loved and supported.
And then, to finish the expedition to Tennessee. To just get grounded and settled. To begin a lifelong adventure of supporting other mothers as they give birth.
To give birth again, herself.
For the young mother to emerge from that bus, in a different state – and, a different state – looking up as sunshine splashed upon her face, and the soft breeze moved through her hair. This young mother, with a new determination and a fresh understanding of the power of childbirth.
And then her midwifery journey began.
I am thankful for Ina May’s words to stillbirthday
“Keep up the good work…”
Cathy Gordon, CNM is an exceptional midwife and author of the book “All Babies are Born“.
She also delivered my “rainbow” baby.
Midwives have successfully completed our birth and bereavement training and are now, additionally, credentialed SBD doulas.
SBD further offers a Midwife of Thanatology program. Upon successful completion, graduates earn the credential of SBD Chaplain.
Stillbirthday says “THANK YOU” to all of the special midwives who support stillbirthday and our families.
Stillbirthday honors those midwives who are also bereaved mothers and grandmothers themselves.
May you have a gentle Day of the Bereaved Midwife.
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.