Rearing isn’t Easy
Maybe you are a parent who has endured loss. Maybe that loss is the death of a baby, or it’s a struggle to conceive.
In darkness, you might have thought:
“I’d be a much better parent than her…”
And somehow, this quiet boastfulness only festered your grief.
Jealousy immediately followed.
Maybe even, a bit of entitlement. Anger.
Somehow and somewhere in your journey, though, you are now a parent to a living child.
And, it’s not as easy as you thought.
You might be sleep deprived.
You might be fearful that your child isn’t bonding very well with you.
You might be dreading that your baby isn’t behaving like you thought, or that you aren’t responding with the endless amounts of affection, attention and adoration you imagined having.
Maybe you’ve lost your patience.
Maybe guilt followed.
Maybe shame began to sink in, and sink your spirits.
Parenting – whether through mourning, or through rearing, flat is not easy.
And, you are not alone.
You are invited to share your rearing challenges and joys in our Holding Umbrellas collection. Just use our sharing tab to write your story.
Related: the SBD growing collection of “subsequent” pregnancy, birth and rearing resources and our Still Parenting journal project.
Remembrance Booties
With a special arrangement with the amazing talented French designer La Mare’maille, stillbirthday has an exclusive shop of remembrance booties.
With the Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness ribbon (or NICU ribbon) around the top, you can choose your pair in black or white.
Sizing is approximately 20 gestation weeks, and 40 gestation weeks, honoring the approximate cusps of ages.
Pricing is $20 for the 20 gestation weeks size, and $30 for the 40 gestation size. Free shipping.
Each pair is made by hand to order, and there is no next day or rush delivery. You will need to please give at least 2 weeks to receive your order. SBD doulas, please contact Heidi Faith for quantity purchasing to have in your doula supplies.
These are therefore, primarily for keepsake purposes.
The designer of these incredible booties speaks French. See the beautiful note she adds to her creation for stillbirthday families.
Please complete the form and use the yellow button to complete your order:
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20 weeks:
Roe v. Grief
Bereavement faces many challenges.
The strikingly contradictory response to our bereavement from our loved ones who espouse strong religious, political or other personal beliefs can be quite jarring and indeed, even traumatizing.
Loved ones who espouse strong pro-life beliefs, specifically if they are someone who would be the quickest to say that elective abortion is the murder of a child, when they shun a mother who has experienced miscarriage or stillbirth be telling her, in word or action, to quickly “get over it”.
Loved ones who espouse strong pro-choice beliefs, specifically if they are someone who would be the quickest to proclaim freedom of a mother’s rights and choices, when they shun a mother who is experiencing bereavement and attempting to deny her the freedoms and the rights to explore and express her bereavement journey, these rights and freedoms they otherwise believe all mothers to have.
Dear loved ones, we need you to have an eye to your own hypocrisy, because it is wounding. Whether you are pro-life or pro-choice, it isn’t actually Roe v. Grief, and we need you to become pro-healing.
Rainbow Milk Teethers
Our Rainbow Milk Teethers are here!
If you have experienced pregnancy and infant loss, and are pregnant or nursing your “rainbow/subsequent” baby, this necklace is for you.
This nursing/teething necklace is a natural and beautiful accessory that will match every outfit you wear, and will give your new baby a perfectly fitting grip to hold as he or she snuggles in close with you.
You can get your rainbow teether/nursing necklace, plus engraving, for only $28!
We’re calling this the Rainbow Milk necklace – as your subsequent/rainbow baby holds to the necklace, they can hold to their sibling’s name as well.
After you receive your necklace, have a photo taken of you wearing it while nursing or holding your subsequent/rainbow baby, and send your photo to Heidi.faith@stillbirthday.info with “Rainbow Milk” as the subject line. From the first 10 photos, those mothers will be entered into a drawing for a giveaway of our Be You Tiful tee!
View more items from the stillbirthday shop!
Price includes shipping within the U.S. Maximum character count is 25. After you complete the form, please use the yellow button below to complete your purchase (to ship outside the US, simply fill out the form and I’ll send you an invoice that includes shipping.)
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Swimming With Life
The public pool.
I’ve heard that spending just a few minutes looking into a fashion magazine can significantly lower a woman’s self image.
Bright colored bikinis. That perfect shade of hot-pink-almost-peach that makes her look perfectly tan.
In person.
Seeing the kiddie pool section.
Screams of joy, splashes, sunscreen, the sounds of tiny pool shoes flip flopping on hot concrete.
Here they are.
Women, mothers, in perfect roundness and fullness.
Maternity swim suits showcasing the newest little people who are swimming within.
I was here.
I was here, remembering that the last time I wore a bikini, I looked good. Real good.
My breasts were full of milk, I felt motherly, I felt, sexy.
I was here, remembering that the time before last, my belly was full, too.
I was in a different swimsuit then. You know, one of those maternity ones.
The ones that cost a fortune and you wonder why in the world they do.
The ones that you hope your friend will pass down to you because she indulged to get a super cute one.
I was here, this time, wearing a different suit than before.
One that I didn’t feel very good in.
Feeling flat.
Feeling small.
Crying into the water, wondering how many here would even guess I’m wondering these things.
Pushing the water, gently, with my hands.
It felt good, the water between my fingers.
Pushing again, stretching my arms out around me.
Walking deeper still, bobbing on toes now.
Twirling, swirling.
Feeling lighter.
Dancing in the waters,
Sharing these waters with life.
Doing a handstand, slapping the bottom of the pool with my flat hand, determining right then and there –
My love for my child goes this deep, and deeper still.
I will share this love.
I will dance in the waters with life.
Each baby swimming with me, may you be blessed.
May you swim with joy.
Each flat mother at the public pool this season,
May you dance with me,
May you swim with life.
The 6 Parts of Jealousy
It comes on fast, and it comes on strong.
Jealousy.
Hurt.
Rejection.
Disappointment.
Fear.
And, anger.
These are all parts of jealousy.
I cannot define jealousy without including each of these feelings.
I’ve carried these feelings my whole life, and to be honest, they make me weary.
But, there’s something else.
A strange feeling in jealousy.
In a lineup, you’d quickly pick it out as the one that does not belong. But, it does.
I know, because jealousy is a feeling that has been there with me, my whole life.
It was there when I was a little girl, in yet another foster home, starting yet another school.
When I was locked in the dark room with the dark person, with the dark marking pooling onto his shirt.
I know, because it was there as I was unpacking strangers’ Christmas ornaments, studying them for the first time, yet again.
It was there when I was hiding in a battered women’s shelter.
It was there as I looked upon the ultrasound monitor, as I looked upon my lifeless baby, bobbing gently in his waters of my love.
It was there when I sat, crutching my broken womb in the shadow of my car waiting for my husband and his father to come to the hospital to pick me up after I learned that our baby was not alive.
It is here, as I meet with jealousy today, my lifelong teacher, my invisible twin.
Jealous, I am, for husbands who have not received the phone call my husband did that day.
Jealous, I am, for children, who do not have to share their mother with bereavement.
Jealous, I am, for women who bask in naivety in pregnancy and birth.
For people who do not know what I carry in my heart.
For people who feel simplicity.
What a rich sorrow when I allow this jealousy a place to manifest in full emotion.
When I heave, when I crumble, when I sob and cry loudly and weep unabashedly.
When I slip to my knees, collapse in tears, when I moan, when I groan,
“What is this supposed to mean?”
What is the purpose of this jealousy? What is it for? What good will it do? Bring? Grow?
I do not yearn for others to have this pain – quite the opposite, I instead simply want their simplicity.
In shame, I try to push this jealousy away with logic that there is no room for jealousy in gratefulness and humility.
Oh, gratefulness and humility, my weaknesses. How I desire to have poise and grace and humility!
But, I allow myself this meeting with jealousy. Not all the time, but, sometimes.
On a day, such as today.
I encounter it, and I invite it in.
For a time, the wailing and the crying fill and float and linger.
And then, on the floor, soaked in tears, throat and soul raw, something happens.
A stillness creeps.
The sixth feeling, it quietly appears.
It’s presence, a whisper.
It doesn’t answer the questions – at least, not immediately.
And, I’ll tell you, it often brings with it, even more questions!
It’s a part of jealousy that is as real as the others.
What is it for? What will it do? Bring? Grow?
I don’t know.
But this part of jealousy is as real as the others, and so I sit with it, this stillness, this whisper.
Strangely, it draws me into community, simply by it’s feeling, without answers, without solutions, without reason.
Community, that I felt abandoned from, forgotten from, neglected from.
Community, that I so, very, achingly, desperately, wearily, need.
By it’s own simple merit and by it’s own intrinsic goodness, it soothes and heals, this often unaccounted for, sixth part of jealousy. It is:
Hope.
May you listen for the whisper.
My Boys
Told by: Jodie
In 2009 my 15 month old drowned. Then on his 3rd birthday, I was 37 weeks pregnant and my placenta ruptured in delivering my stillborn son it was so hard being his brothers birthday.
And in April of last year I found out I was pregnant. I went my 30 week prenatal appointment on a Thursday, and my doctor said everything looked good, then told me to come back in 2 weeks.
On Monday I felt sick so after I put my older kids on the bus I went back to bed. I woke up around 11 cramping, went to the bathroom and laid back down. After timing I realized I was in was in labor and my right leg went numb. I called my husband, he came home and we went to the hospital. During an ultrasound it showed no heart beat, and they couldn’t find the placenta.
I delivered my stillborn son. When they delivered the placenta they said it didn’t tear or rupture it actually exploded. And that I bled 4 pints of blood into my stomach and the pressure is what made my leg numb.