A love letter

to baby loss mamas

This June marks fifteen years since my second daughter passed away. She was a tiny two pounds ​and two ounces of preciousness, with adorable toes and delicate fingers. Her body suffered from ​an insurmountable defect, but her spirit was fully engaged with mine during her pregnancy. She ​was loved beyond measure, and she loved me in return. My constant companion for those 33 ​weeks, she enjoyed an ocean side existence, craving the most upscale meals of maple frosted ​doughnuts and bowls of cereal consisting of crispy rice. She had a great life. One day, very close ​to when her father was finishing his contract of service with the USMC, she did not wake up ​with me as she usually did. Weeks of praying for just a few moments holding her alive were ​answered with a “No.” She was not going to be born alive. Since our time in the military was ​coming to an end, I opted to be driven from NC to NH to deliver her in our home state. Funeral ​plans and burial plots had already been arranged and my NH doctors were aware of her ​condition. A lack of communication between my NC doctors and my NH doctors led to a large ​delay in her delivery. I arrived in NH with my doctors being unaware that Rose had passed away. ​I had to tell them that she was no longer alive when they began the medical conversation ​explaining all the ways they would refuse to intervene after birth. It is unpleasant enough the ​first time a mother has to endure this conversation, but it is even worse knowing that not only ​do your doctors not want to help your baby, they also are not on the ball when it comes to ​helping you. Due to planned C-sections for other women and a lack of beds at the hospital, I had ​to delay being induced for another weekend. When all was said and done I carried my daughter’s ​deceased body inside of me for nine days. During those nine days I endured extended family ​visits (we had been in NC for four years, so naturally people wanted to see us, but we really ​should have thought about it; I was in no condition to be around people), moments where her ​body lodged itself between my hip bone and my rib cage, and terrible panic attacks. The trauma ​I experienced during that time was immense. Why am I sharing all of these details? I want you ​to know that the advice I am about to give is from a mom that has been through the ​trenches and is still standing. As impossible as it may sound, your life does continue after ​you hand your baby over to the funeral home. Your faith may be brought to its knees. You might ​have to white knuckle your way through months and years, but you will find your strength again.

In the past I have done things, big and small, in memory of Rose on her birthday. This year I ​was at a loss. I have nothing physical to donate in memory of my daughter (as is my preferred ​method) but I have decided to start writing about her again. In July of last year I wrote her a ​short little note, and it was so soothing to my soul. I miss her so dearly and cannot wait to see ​her again, but I know I have things to do in between now and then. I feel like one of those ​things is to share some of my insights with other baby loss Mamas in a loving and safe way; ​loving in that I want to be real with you. I am writing these little tidbits of advice from a place ​of knowing that my daughter is whole and healed in Heaven with my Lord and Saviour Jesus ​Christ. In my experience the people from my church family have said things while trying to be ​kind that cut deep into my grieving heart. “God doesn’t make mistakes” is a true statement, but ​it is not the time or place to say this when a Mom is standing beside her daughter in a coffin. ​For years I could not sing the chorus of “It is well with my soul” because my soul was not at ​peace with God. I felt let down: my prayers to hold my daughter alive were not beyond His ​ability, but He still said no. Four years ago I was in a Bible study with a trusted and beloved ​mentor and I was struggling with a passage we were covering. We chatted about it and I was ​able to work past some misconceptions I had carried with me. I also realized that I was holding ​onto unforgiveness towards God! I am a firm believer that if you find yourself thinking that you ​are right and God is wrong…then you have misled yourself. I laid it all down at His feet. I asked ​for His forgiveness for thinking that I knew what was best and how Rose’s life should have ​played out. I rededicated my heart to Him, even to the point of embracing the pain that was ​endured and receiving it as such. His will is perfect, even when the weight of it is so great to us ​on earth. I told Him that I would no longer keep Him at arm's length and that I longed to be ​closer to Him in every aspect of my day. In the four years since that time I have healed more ​from the loss of my daughter than the eleven years prior to it. For those of you who know me ​personally, healing is not sanctifying. I still have many things to work on, but I will say that I ​feel more genuine than ever. I am a strange duck, and I am ok with that.

I’ll go back to the beginning of this writing and reiterate that this will be “loving and safe.” I ​have learned to establish boundaries. I love a good boundary. The safe part of this is mainly for ​myself. I wanted to share this without the ability for people to comment. One of my hard core ​beliefs in life is, “Don’t read the comments!” So, if you have comments about my writing that you ​must share, please share them with a loved one…I am not in need of them. Even if they are ​kind, tell God instead since He inspired the good bits.

I know it may be frowned upon, but I am going to start off this advice with some assumptions. ​I am assuming that my audience is mainly Mamas that have or will soon be losing a ​baby due to a poor diagnosis. I knew beforehand that my daughter would not be coming ​home with us from the hospital when she was born, but that is not always the case. Some of you ​may have had to take down a nursery or hide a car seat because your loss was unexpected. My ​heart breaks for you. Some of you might be in the middle of the journey, not knowing how ​things will turn out. My heart breaks for you. I’ve been there, and it is a terrible place to be.

I am also assuming that you have a relationship with God. If you don’t, some of my advice ​might sound ridiculous, but I can’t change who I am. I know that I was created with a purpose, ​that I am loved beyond measure, and that I am saved by Jesus. My whole life is seen through ​that lens, as is my grieving journey. My last assumption is that you have a spouse or a ​“safe person” that is familiar with your loss and can be there for you in the moments ​you need them most. There is no judgment here, since death is no respecter of love and it ​affects us all. I hope that you have someone to advocate for you, because Mamas carry this ​burden in a different way. I lied - there is one more assumption. I am assuming that you ​have already been told by your church family that you should rely on your faith and ​family to get you through this time. This point is key. Those are true things and are the ​foundation of how you will get through this loss, but what if your foundation has been ​damaged? Your faith may have taken a beating! Your spouse and you are two deeply wounded ​people trying to carry one another. It is going to be messy at times. The phrase “hurt people ​hurt people” isn’t just for kids dealing with bullies at school. I have said and done some terrible ​things to the love of my life in a moment of intense grieving, and he has done the same. Keep a ​giant Stanley sized amount of grace to pour out at a moment's notice, including for yourself.

Take all the photos & videos

It may not feel right at the moment, but one day you ​will want them. You will seek out every tangible ​memory you have of your baby, and there will never ​be enough. For your future self, take photos and ​videos to capture the brief time you had with them ​in your arms. Look at every little detail. How tiny are ​their feet in your hands? What does their hand look ​like stretched out in your palm? No matter how you ​look or how they look, you will want the memories. If ​you don’t feel ready for them, tuck away the memory ​cards in a safe place and allow yourself time. A ​future version of yourself may need them, and that ​future version will thank their former, strong self for ​taking them.

Allow yourself space and ​verbalize that need to your ​support person / people

This will feel a lot like self advocating when you need ​to verbalize it, but it needs to be done. If loved ones ​and society are asking too much of you here is your ​written permission to establish a boundary and give ​yourself space. If you are forcing yourself into ​uncomfortable and triggering experiences here is ​your written permission to give yourself grace. What ​might that look like? Give yourself margin (time) ​between taxing tasks. I personally needed a day to ​recover from being at public events, since the ​interactions were too much. When you are grieving, ​the physical energy required to simply function in ​society is enormous.

It is best to put things plainly for your support ​people; feel free to use these examples from my own ​journey. Although my tolerance has grown over time, ​some things remain in the “too much” category. Here ​are some examples of boundaries that you can set:

• Avoiding newborns
  
• Stepping away from places where you serve that ​take away from your cup instead of refilling it
  
• Avoiding public places that will have lots of ​strollers
  
• Having time to process pregnancy announcements ​in private before interacting with the expecting ​couple face to face
  
• Sending gifts to expecting moms instead of ​attending baby showers
  
• Noticing dates at church where babies will be ​baptized or dedicated and opting for a Sunday at ​home
  
• Skipping childbirth scenes in movies AND knowing ​if storylines in books / movies / shows include ​child loss
  

When in doubt about how you might handle a ​situation, trust your gut. If you feel dread when you ​think about an upcoming date (anniversary of your ​baby’s passing, their due date, their birthday, etc.) ​allow your calendar to give you the peace and space ​that you will need on those days.

Bring someone with you ​down memory lane

You will find yourself in your mind a lot, thinking of ​your baby and replaying memories. If your safe ​person (mine is my husband) is nearby, invite them ​into your memory. They most likely think of your ​baby often, but don’t always know how to start the ​conversation. For example, I find myself thinking of ​my pregnancy with my daughter often in the spring ​and summer months. I remember where we lived, ​what we did, how precious those days were to our ​young family. I will bring up a memory of the beach ​trips we had while we prepare for dinner in our ​kitchen. My husband is the cook, so he isn’t going ​anywhere. We casually chat for a few minutes and ​move on, but those few minutes allow her life to be ​talked about in the busiest place in our home. Our ​kitchen is in constant motion. Our three boys are a ​whirlwind of snacks and open cupboards. Our ​daughter’s photos are proudly hung alongside her ​siblings on our fridge. The moral of the story is this: ​talk about your baby out loud and let your household ​know that they were loved.

Therapists...you need one

Talking with a therapist is a must. I spent YEARS ​trying to brush this one off, but a friend frankly ​asked me one day (while I was mid sentence, mind ​you) “Do you see a therapist?” It wasn’t the best way ​to go about it, but it got my attention. I was able to ​find a fantastic Christian therapist that specializes in ​pregnancy loss. Less about me though, and more ​about my reasonings for you to also see a therapist ​(and I mean a therapist!). Not a Pastor or a family ​friend. Not a fellow baby loss mama or a support ​community on Facebook. You need a well trained ​therapist to hear your story and walk with you during ​your healing. Why? Trauma, depression, and being ​triggered are real things and require trained ​professionals to navigate. Your faith is not weakened ​by seeking help. God made people to walk through ​life together, and when your life gets real, you need a ​highly trained professional to help you through it.

Add to your memories

when you can

This little bit of advice is based on my own personal ​experience. I find myself on a constant look out to ​include and remember my daughter, since my heart ​has never stopped seeking more of her. I think that ​is common for parents to long to be with their ​children. Here are some ways that I have added to ​Rose’s memory box over the years.

At birth I saved all of the sympathy cards, hospital ​items, ultrasound photos (from pregnancy), and ​blankets that we used with her. We were given a ​garment bag made from a wedding dress to have her ​clothes placed in from the funeral home. Since then ​we have added memorial jewelry, ornaments, works ​of art, school t-shirts, fundraiser t-shirts, hats, and ​even a sweatshirt for me! There are some amazing ​crafting businesses that will take baby clothing (in ​my case, my favorite maternity dress) and embroider ​the fabric into a custom sweatshirt.

Not all of your new memories have to fit in a ​memory box: you can also have special days focused ​on your baby. I’ve had days where I go to the ocean ​and write. I treat myself to some of my favorite ​pregnancy foods, play music that reminds me of her, ​and give myself time to write and write some more. I ​refill my cup with the beauty of my love for her and ​the majesty of my surroundings. Sometimes my ​family will join in and we will make a day of it. ​Sometimes I will participate in events that are on a ​larger scale. My church offers Easter flowers in ​memory of loved ones. I order some for Rose and ​other babies that have passed away on an annual ​basis. I plant the flowers in my backyard, and every ​year that little garden grows bigger. In the fall there ​is an annual Wave of Light. In every timezone ​parents that have lost babies are encouraged to light ​a candle from 7-8pm. In essence there will be a wave ​of light around the world in memory of little lives ​gone too soon.

Talk in safe spaces

with safe people

Know your audience and your people. Your experience ​is precious and should be handled with care. You do ​not owe anyone anything, so if you feel that you ​might need to protect your loved one’s life details, ​then do so. It should not be the case, but people will ​find a way to hurt you due to the sharing of your ​baby’s story.

With that said, make time to talk with loved ones or ​a therapist about your baby. It needs to happen! You ​need to process their passing and remember them in ​a safe space. Grieving will happen, just try to do it in ​a way that helps you heal.

Give yourself grace

You will absolutely tick someone off, not live up to ​someone’s standards, let yourself down, and be tired! ​It is ok. It won’t be forever. Unkind words will be ​said (by you and to you), you will fold to the ​exhaustion brought on by grief, and brain fog will ​creep in and affect the quality of your work. You ​won’t show up for a life event the way that someone ​expects you to. Your faith might struggle. Give ​yourself grace and keep going!

Things will improve over time, I promise, but you ​have been greatly wounded. In my experience God ​puts the pieces back slowly, but He does it right. ​Keep getting up, keep loving the ones dearest to you, ​and give yourself grace for the moments that your ​former self would have knocked it out of the park. I ​struggle with bouts of brain fog to this day. ​Passwords escape my brain, appointments go right ​out the window, items at the grocery store remain on ​the shelves instead of being added to my cart ​(especially the ones that prompted my need to visit ​the store), and I still give myself grace because I am ​a woman that is worn down by her emotions, ​especially grief.

Rest in the sunshine

Rest by still waters and restore your soul. You will ​need to be restored. You will need rest. You will need ​God’s creation. Pour into yourself with being well fed ​(not just delicious food), well hydrated, rested, and ​indulging in God’s creation. Sit by a beautiful vista, ​go to the mountains, take in a sunset, plan some star ​gazing, and unwind in the beauty of the world God ​spoke into being. Pour your heart out to Him and ​refill it with the beauty and majesty you find yourself ​surrounded by. It is hard to regret seeing a sunset or ​walking barefoot on a beach.

Comedy

A great source of healing for me and my family is ​found in comedy, well written, high brow, make-​them-think comedy. It fully engages my mind and ​gives me a brief escape. It doesn’t change the level ​of absence of my daughter, but the delight that I ​find in a well written joke is similar to the peace that ​I find in a stunning vista.

You control where and when ​you share your story

“How many kids do you have?” is a big question. Do I ​say four or five? Do I say four at home? Each person ​and each situation might have a different answer, ​and that is ok. Sometimes the level of detail that I ​go into is different. Saying that my second child ​passed away as a baby, although true, is “easier” than ​saying “my daughter had a rare birth defect and was ​stillborn at 33 weeks.” The “life” debate is one that ​causes conflict with some, and suddenly my daughter ​becomes a political argument and a worthless clump ​of cells instead of remaining my daughter and a ​valued member of my family.

Celebrate your baby’s life in ​ways that bring you comfort

This can look like so many things, big and small. Be ​sure to do something that celebrates their little life ​while comforting your grieving heart. If you can ​comfort others without emptying your cup, then go ​for it, but you and your family need to be the focus. I ​used to busy myself with “In memory of” fundraisers ​and events for big milestones. Rose’s due date was ​after her passing, so I organized a really nice baby ​shower and donated the items to a local non-profit. ​Her early birthdays all looked a little different, but ​the general theme was that I kept myself busy -> ​kept her memory alive -> gave to others beyond ​what I had to give -> ended up hurt by unmet ​expectations. Who needs that? God didn’t ask me to ​do that. My brain could not process the grief of a ​birthday without the birthday girl, so I drew up big ​plans to help her feel close and to love on others ​that suffered similar losses. There are so many ​birthday parties missing the guests of honor in my ​little corner of the world. I still struggle with the ​urge to busy myself around certain anniversaries. Her ​birthdays are now family days. We go to the beach, ​we have a special way of remembering her together, ​we visit her grave, and then we rest for the ​remainder of the day. I refill my cup with the love of ​my family by actively remembering my daughter, ​soaking in the beauty of the Atlantic ocean, and ​resting in a home filled with her photos and ​keepsakes. You will find a way that works for you ​too, I promise.

Pray

In all things, including every overwhelming high and ​low, pray. Talk to God. He knows what happened and ​He knows your heart. Give it to Him, every wave of ​grief, guilt, and anger. All of the feelings will come ​eventually. Feel them, process them, and pray about ​them. Talk to God with the knowledge that He ​created the universe but also with the knowledge ​that He is your Abba. You are His beloved. Tell Him ​all the things!

Recognize and Process ​Feelings

When feelings are coming on, recognize them and ​give yourself the time and space to process them. Do ​not stuff them away - you are not Mary Poppin’s bag, ​if it were an endless satchel of feelings and iced ​coffees. There isn’t infinite space in your heart and ​mind for unprocessed grief. Death is sad, and tears ​are acceptable. Grief is tiring, so allow yourself a ​moment of rest. Sometimes bitterness creeps in, but ​just turn it over to God and talk about it. Do not give ​it time to take root. Not all feelings will be bad, ​either: some will be sweet memories or experiences ​just when your spirit needs them. Take a moment to ​soak it all in. Fill your cup whenever possible.

In summary, feel the feelings, embrace the beauty, talk to God about everything, and put on a great comedy.

I love you,

Anne