Hello Dearest...Who Is Blooming In The Dark

Hello Dearest,

Pregnancy after loss is an experience no one can prepare for. I have been where you are. I have stood in the place where it feels like you are pressed against dark glass and there is only a small hole through which to view the other side. But you stand there anyway, because the other side is where you once lived fully in the sun. You are an unwilling resident and are trying your best to shrink yourself through that small hole, as if it were possible to belong there again. And I am going to tell you something that may be hard to believe . . . but eventually, the glass becomes translucent and the light will begin to illuminate your world again.

 

So, forgive yourself right now. You have beaten yourself up over how many tears you have shed in fear. You have lost sleep due to anxiety. You have most likely worried yourself sick over how your emotions may be affecting your unborn baby. You have probably had a difficult time feeling any real, unadulterated joy. I am guessing you keep your heart protected because you are waiting for another tragedy, yet you dare not give voice to it. Have you thought of planning another funeral instead of preparing a nursery? I did. I experienced all of this and more with both of my pregnancies after the death of my daughter. And guess what? It is completely normal.

So, dear one, remember to breathe deeply and to let it all go every once in a while. Try to find little things that make you smile, that inspire you, that make your heart flutter with joy. Try to sit in a quiet place and let yourself hum a lullaby as you caress your belly. Seek out ways to commemorate to the process of this pregnancy. This is your baby’s story, like it or not.

I cannot promise it will be easy, but I can tell you that it is necessary. Finding little bits of hope to nourish you can make all the difference when you’re stuck ~ blooming in the dark.

Love,

Stephanie

Mother, Grief survivor, Artist, Advocate

Stephanie Dyer, a mother of seven children with five who walk on earth and two with angel wings, spends her days homeschooling and her nights painting.  She has used her years of training and counseling as a LMSW to help her children deal with the loss of their sisters.  A self-taught artist, Stephanie currently owns and operates www.BeyondWordsDesigns.com, the company through which she publishes her artistry and runs the Donate Art project, a charity begun in honor of her daughters Amelia and Alice.  You can also find Stephanie on Twitter and Facebook. 

Don't forget to link to your own PAL Love Letter below or share your Love Letter to a Mom Pregnant Again After Loss on our partner site Stillbirthday.com by clicking here. 

To The Mom Expecting Again After Loss...I Was You.

To The Mom Expecting Again After Loss,

I was you not too long ago, and hopefully one day, I’ll be you again. First and foremost, it’s okay to cry. I cried most of my pregnancy after loss too. It’s been almost two years since my pregnancy after loss ended and my daughter was placed in my arms, ALIVE. 

I wasn’t ever sure if we’d get there. To be honest, I had her funeral planned before her nursery. Down to every detail, her funeral was planned.  

I’m a planner by nature, you see. I have a need to plan everything I can ahead of time. So either way my pregnancy ended, I would be prepared. The easy thing for me to plan was her funeral- it was what I knew. Planning for what happens after you give birth, that I was not good at. My plans the first time never ended in a funeral for one of my twins, nor did they include surgeries and the NICU. So with my daughter’s pregnancy, I was prepared for her funeral.

But I also wanted to be prepared for bringing her home, too. And that thought was so scary. I knew I couldn’t do it. So I called my mom. I let my mom get excited about my pregnancy because I couldn’t. She put her room together and washed her clothes, and did all the things I couldn’t do. I bought two things for my daughter, both of which I figured we could use at her funeral, as well as if she was born alive: a blanket, and a onsie with her name embroidered on it.

I think its okay to only be able to do what you can handle. So many people kept telling me ‘everything will be alright this time, don’t worry.’ Those people don’t know what we know. We know death. We know the weight of our lifeless children in our arms, or what it feels like when the doctor says there is no heartbeat. WE know, and they do not.

Every morning I woke up scared that would be the day it was all over, and every night I went to sleep begging my baby to give me just one more kick so I knew she was alive. My friend lent me her Doppler and I listened to my daughter’s heartbeat for hours, sometimes I just had it on along with the TV, just so I knew her heart was still beating. That Doppler kept me sane those months.

If you can’t handle a baby shower or baby gifts, don’t have one and ask for people not to give you any. I had my mom stockpile things at her house because I knew I just couldn’t handle it. I know that people will tell you to believe and faith- but I also know how hard it is to believe and have faith. If you can’t do those things, it’s okay.

I didn’t.

And it’s really hard to admit, but I could never ‘see’ myself with my daughter. I could only see a funeral.

I can tell you that it’s worth it. Every pain, every ache, every ounce of fear is worth it. What was supposed to be my ‘happy ending’ to my son’s death ended in an emergency D&C. We miscarried at 10 weeks in the most awful, drawn out way of loss in the first trimester. For several weeks we were told to ‘have hope and pray’ but our baby never grew and we never saw a heartbeat.

I can tell you that I was done trying. I lost my hope and I truly thought I would never have more than my surviving twin. I thought he was my ‘fluke’ healthy baby and that I was never really meant to be a mother. My husband convinced me to keep trying with fertility medicine until we ran out of money. The very next time we attempted IUI, we found out we were pregnant on Friday the 13^th.

I laughed.

When our daughter was born 9 months later on Friday the 13^th, I shook with fear in the OR. I was actually shaking so hard they couldn’t give me a spinal tap. A wonderful, amazing nurse wiped my tears and held my hands and asked me my son’s name.

It’s okay if your delivery is wrapped in fear. I asked the anthiesologist about 80 times if she was breathing even though I could hear her cries. The fact that she was alive never really hit me until she was placed in my arms. 

And it was beautiful. Those moments in which I experienced what so many women take for granted were so beautiful. And worth it. Worth every tear, every minute of being scared and all of the heartache that entailed the miscarriage the year prior. I’d go through all the fear again to have my daughter. She healed me in ways I can’t explain.

She was truly, truly a gift. And your baby will be, too. Even if right now, you’re not sure that gift will ever come home alive.

Sincerely,

Megan Skaggs

A Mom Who Has Survived Pregnancy After Loss. 

Megan is mother to identical twin sons Will and Michael Joseph ‘MJ’, and daughter Maci Jayne. After a brief infertility battle her twins were conceived and her and her husband, Willie, were beyond thrilled to welcome two boys. Halfway through their pregnancy, MJ was diagnosed with a congenital diaphragmatic hernia (CDH). At 36 weeks the boys were delivered: 21 inches and exactly 6lbs each. At just 35 days, and after three surgeries MJ passed away in Megan’s arms. After MJ’s death Megan joined Project Sweet Peas and started a division called MJ’s Memories. They deliver about 300 care packages and memory boxes to local NICU’s each year. Naively thinking the infertility battle would be over Megan and her husband decided to try again. The second time was much harder, but they did finally conceive only to miscarry at about 10 weeks. Finding the strength to try again was harder then they thought, but their rainbow baby, Maci Jayne was born in early 2012. Sometime in 2015 they hope to try again to complete their family.

Don't forget to link to your own PAL Love Letter below or share your Love Letter to a Mom Pregnant Again After Loss on our partner site Stillbirthday.com by clicking here.

Dear Expectant Mother...I Had To Believe

Dear Expectant Mother,

As I write this letter, I can see you sitting down in your chair reading it.  I see you and your beautiful growing belly.  It is full of life right now.  Life of a baby who you desperately want to be in your arms.  Alive.  Healthy.  You would do anything in your humanly power to get this outcome.  But as you and I know, all too unfortunately, that outcome doesn’t always happen.  We experienced the unthinkable.  We lost our babies.  Our hopes, our dreams for the future, gone.  

You and I have different stories.  Each of ours is different, but they also have similarities.  We became pregnant again after having experienced a loss.  Something that required a lot of strength and courage…and in my case, luck, as it took just over a year to conceive after my loss.  My first baby, Marco, was born at 29 weeks on October 6^th, 2009.  A rare and unknown genetic condition made it impossible for him to sustain his life.  My husband and I were forced to make the impossible decision to withdraw care within just a few hours of his life.  

Losing a baby can seem like an endless sea of losses.  Not only was our baby gone, along with all of our hopes and dreams for him, but our innocence was gone.  Out the window.  

I was fortunate enough to conceive again 13 months after losing Marco.  Sure, I was elated, but I was also terrified.  The wait to hit each milestone throughout the pregnancy was excruciating.  Having followed all the rules during my first pregnancy, and it still failing, left me feeling out of control.  It didn’t matter if I took my prenatal vitamins or didn’t eat deli meat, my baby could still die, and this was a paralyzing fear at times.  But, weighing against my fear was hope.  Despite knowing that anything could go wrong during the pregnancy at any time, I still had hope that this little being in me would survive and thrive.  I had to believe.  I owed it to myself, my husband, and my little passenger.  

I vividly remember sitting alone at my table one night during the pregnancy.  I was filling out the 2011 calendar with birthdays and known events.  I flipped to August, the month during which I was due, and I dared to do something risky.  I marked the baby’s due date on the calendar, August 12^th, by writing “Little Foot’s Due Date” and drawing a heart around it.  My eyes filled with tears and a lump formed in my throat.  Risky, to an expectant mother who has never suffered a pregnancy complication or loss, might be an activity like getting your hair colored or eating a big ol’ tuna sandwich.  Not to me.  Risky meant believing that this baby would survive.  Risky was putting Little Foot’s due date on the calendar, knowing that if the unthinkable were to happen again, I’d have to turn the calendar to August and feel the knife turn in my gaping wound when I were to look at the inscription on that date.  But hope trumped fear that night, and the due date was marked.

My wish for you, my friend is that you let your hope trump your fear from time to time during this pregnancy.  You will be scared, that is fact, and that is ok.  It’s normal, and it is ok to lean into that fear at times when you need to.  Ride it out.  But, when you feel hope wanting to take the reigns for a bit, let it.  Let it seep into your heart, your soul.  Feed it to your baby. It’s scary to let hope take over.  There’s a lot at stake, absolutely, but hope is there.  It will help carry you through the fear.

After all, hope is what gave me the courage to prepare a nursery and to go on a tour of the hospital that I knew would be filled with first-time expectant parents asking typical first-time-expectant-parent questions.  It’s what gave me the courage to step into a maternity store and buy a nursing bra.  It gave me the courage to compose an outline of an email announcing the birth to friends and family on the day before the baby was to arrive.

Yes, fear won the tug of war many times during my pregnancy after loss, but hope was there all along and it ultimately won the war.  I’m so glad that I let that hope shine through when I could and even sometimes when I didn’t think it possible.  We were so extremely fortunate to welcome our daughter, Lucia Elizabeth, full-term and healthy on August 2^nd, 2011.  She is an amazing miracle and gift. I can’t help but to think that the extra bit of love and gratefulness we have for her is her brother, Marco’s, love shining down.  

I stand in solidarity with you as you travel this journey.  Cry when you need to, laugh as often as you can, but above all else…have hope.  Have hope, my friend.

With Love,

Libby

Libby Bianchi is a wife and mother of 2.  Her first child, a son, Marco Luis, was born on 10/6/09 at 29 weeks.  Marco lived just 4 hours due to a rare and undiagnosed genetic condition.  After a very difficult 14 months, Libby was able to conceive her second child.  Lucia Elizabeth was born full term and healthy on 8/2/11.  Libby began writing when she started a blog, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, 4 years ago while on bed rest and fighting to save Marco.  She has found writing to be extremely therapeutic in dealing with the grief of the loss of Marco and the loss of her innocence.  Libby volunteers with the Share Your Story section of the March of Dimes, and also continues to attend a local MIS loss support group to provide support to those who have been forced to walk this walk.

Libby is extremely grateful for her miracle rainbow baby, Lucia, a very spirited 2 year old.  She and her husband would love to have another child, but are battling secondary infertility, for which they may seek treatment in the future.

 Don't forget to link to your own PAL Love Letter below or share your Love Letter to a Mom Pregnant Again After Loss on our partner site Stillbirthday.com by clicking here.

Week 31 - How to Handle a High Risk Pregnancy

This week's Knocked Up Blogger post for Pregnancy and Newborn Magazine highlights how we (Nick, Zoe, and I) are now moving into the high risk stage of this pregnancy.  You can read all about the changes that are happening starting this week and how I try to manage the stress that comes with those changes by clicking here.

P.S. Most of my ideas come from advice other high-risk moms shared with me. 

“I’m sorry that I’m such a complicated case,” I half teased my doctor as she directed me to lay down on the exam table to measure my stomach.  We listened to the baby’s heartbeat at the clinic, where I came to be tested to see if I was leaking amniotic fluid, but I thankfully found out I just had a baby sitting on my not so strong bladder.

As the doctor helped me stretch out on the table I continued, “I mean with all my complications and anxiety and being a high-risk pregnancy and all.”

She half smiled and replied, “You know, nowadays more pregnancies than not are complicated.”  Little did I know that at my 20-something week appointment, my doctor was not only referring to me but herself as well?  A week later I found out I would have to change providers as the also pregnant doctor herself had to go on bed rest for her own high-risk reasons.  It was as if I was now surrounded by woman who had pregnancy complications including myself.  My doctor’s comment seemed to be right, at least in my little world.

During my first pregnancy I had NO complications.  It was a normal 40-week pregnancy up until the last 24 hours when my daughter died. Now, because of my late-term loss, I have been labeled as a high-risk pregnancy, and starting this past week at 31 to 32 weeks pregnant is when all of my extra monitoring begins.  The first part of my pregnancy was treated medically the same way that a ‘normal’ pregnancy would be treated, but now that we are approaching the home stretch (I hate that term) and nearing the time that the loss of my first baby occurred, things have gotten a little busier, and when I mean busier I mean it!

I now have three doctor appointments a week; my first was this past Monday where I had what they call a biophysical profile ultrasound done.  This is where the ultrasound checks for breathing, heart rate, and movement.  And every Friday until delivery, I will have NST (non-stress tests) to monitor the baby’s breathing and movement, along with if my body is having contractions.  Also on Fridays, I will meet weekly with my doctor for the normal prenatal appointments that occur during the final weeks of pregnancy.

But this is just my experience of being classified as a high-risk pregnancy, and from my understanding everyone’s high risk pregnancy is a little different.  Some are in the early stages of pregnancy due to multiple miscarriages in the past.  Others happen in the second trimester, like my friend who has a history of preterm labor, some require bed rest for the whole third trimester like my doctor, and some are like me with an increase in observation by medical staff with more appointments each week.

I imagine each high-risk situation comes with its own challenges.  But I bet all of them come with high anxiety, exhaustion from worry, and an increase in demands that pregnancy puts on your life.  Not to forget the stress this combination of emotions and duties puts on an expectant mom.  All of which happen to turn out to be the things you DON’T want in a pregnancy that is labeled high risk.  (Funny how that works out.)

So, right now I am back at learning how to de-stress, calm my anxieties, and maintain some kind of energy level between balancing appointments, worrying about what might go wrong, and managing life including working 40 hours a week, attending to a household, all while preparing for a baby.  It’s a delicate balancing act and I knew I needed to reach out to others for advice.  So I asked other expecting moms how they manage the stress that comes with being diagnosed as a high-risk pregnancy.   Below is the list of coping ideas other high-risk pregnancy moms and I came up with:

Reach out to those who have been there—This was the No.1 response from most moms who are going through or have been through a high-risk pregnancy.  Reaching out to those who have walked this path before you or who are currently walking it are helpful to have around when you need someone to confide in about your deepest darkest fears that others just don’t understand.  One currently expecting mom even told me about how she has a high-risk pregnancy mentor of sorts.  She said that she speaks almost weekly to a mom who has had two pregnancies after a loss that have all been labeled high-risk, and having that person to call has really helped her stay sane.  I think the idea is super cool.

Consistent communication with doctor —This was not the No.1 response, but it did seem to make the biggest difference in people’s experience of care during a high-risk pregnancy from the moms I polled.  Most women said that having consistent and frequent communication with a doctor who was supportive of their concerns during their high-risk pregnancy was the biggest factor in helping calm their nerves.  I couldn’t agree more.  Having a caring and understanding medical team that is available has provided me with much needed comfort during this difficult time.

Ask for help from friends, family, and even employers—I know, I know. Asking for help is hard to do. I hate asking for help, but I realized in order to stay sane during this stressful time I was going to need it. I have asked my husband to help out more around the house, and I worked out a modified schedule and change of hours with my employer to accommodate my multitude of appointments.  Other moms have also told me how they had to cut back on hours at work as increased monitoring occurred, or how they utilized their friends and family to help care for their children while on bed rest.

See a therapist—Another idea moms reported that helped reduce anxiety and stress of a high-risk pregnancy was seeking professional emotional support.  I know that ever since I found out I was pregnant again, I increased my therapy sessions with my therapist from every other week to weekly appointments so that I could have a place to process my feelings and receive the emotional support I need to get through such a stressful pregnancy.

Hire a doula—Another decision I made to support my emotional well-being during this anxiety provoking time was hiring a doula.  In working with her I have a birth professional I can count on and call anytime, day or night, to check-in with about how my pregnancy is going.  She doesn’t give me medical advice, but she does offer the emotional support I need (which is sometimes what I crave more of now.)

Positive Thoughts—Whether it be positive self-talk, mantras, healing affirmations, or prayer, this was another big response from expecting moms as a way to manage the stress that comes with high-risk pregnancy.  I know I too rely heavily on positive affirmations and self-talk to get me through.

How do you handle the challenges that come with a high-risk pregnancy?

Dear Mother-Who-Is-Pulled-In-Two-Directions...

Dear Mother-Who-Is-Pulled-In-Two-Directions,

Pregnancy after a loss is a special time and a challenging time. Grief and hormones send you on a roller coaster of emotions. Constantly pulled in two directions, you want to be excited and happy about the child growing inside you, but want to honour and cherish the child that came before. You can’t quite enjoy the moment, trying to strike the balance between hope for the future and grief for what has been lost. And all the usual sources of advice; the parenting web sites, friends and family, pregnancy books, and even your doctor/midwife just aren’t able to address your needs. Like a shoe that doesn’t fit, their suggestions feel uneasy and uncomfortable. “Just relax!” Oh, how I hated those words!

Of course, it isn’t just well-meaning family and friends who put their foot in their mouth. Sometimes even health care professionals, who are aware of our history and ought to know better, are the ones who say the wrong things. One medical resident, when I came for an emergency consult (turns out I had pneumonia!), looked at my chart and said “Boy, you’ll be busy with 5 kids at home!” The minute she opened her mouth, she knew what she’d said was wrong, and I know she felt terrible. Doctors are humans too and in her rush to see me for my immediate problem – I couldn’t breathe – she forgot to think about my other concern: that my first three pregnancies ended in loss.

Well-meaning advice from the American Medical Association in the 1930s. 

Easier said than done, right?

Do I have advice for women traveling this journey of pregnancy after a loss? Maybe. If you have suggestions, please add them in the comments here. Each of us has a slightly different experience, a slightly different story to tell. We can learn so much from one another. 

I recently starting thinking about how we can develop a better relationship with our health care professionals. These are just my suggestions: 

1. When booking your first appointment, ask the receptionist if you can have a little extra time. It might only be 5 minutes, but it will help ensure that you can get your questions answered and not feel rushed.

  

2. Practice what you want to say beforehand. Write it down and read it aloud to a friend or your partner. By practicing in advance, you’ll feel more comfortable telling your story and they can give you tips on how to make it better.

  

3. Bring a pen and paper to appointments and write down any questions you have. If there are words you are unfamiliar with, you can ask them to write them down so you can look them up later.

4. If you want to, bring your partner or a friend to your appointments. They can catch things you miss and may be able to remember things you’ve forgotten.

5. Remember your doctor / midwife isn’t psychic! Be sure to tell them about your concerns, and about any herbal or natural medicines you’re taking. They’ve heard it all before and shouldn’t judge you.

6. Ask if you can communicate via e-mail. More and more doctors are comfortable with this and sometimes it is easier to write things than say it to their faces, especially if you’re emotional or embarrassed.

The best relationships are built on a foundation of good communication and trust. When you’ve experienced a loss, that trust is often broken, even if you don’t blame your doctor or midwife for the death of your child. Your faith in a healthy pregnancy has been shattered. If you’re feeling uneasy with the care you’re getting, let them know. How they respond will hopefully make the trusting a little easier. Whatever you do, be kind to yourself and kind to others. It goes a long way toward making the world a better place.

With love,

Amanda

Amanda Ross-White is the proud mother of four beautiful children, including her twin boys Nate and Sam, who were stillborn in 2007. She is eternally grateful to watch her rainbow children, daughter Rebecca and son Alex, grow around her. Since joining the sad world of the babylost, she has become dedicated to furthering research into stillbirth and neonatal death, as well as the unique parenting and relationship challenges for babylost mothers. In her day job, she helps connect people to the medical and health information they need, and sees the need for better communication between babylost mothers and their health care providers. She’s currently writing a guide for a pregnancy after a loss. (Photo courtesy of Courtesy Maryl Cook Photography).

Don't forget to link to your own PAL Love Letter below or share your Love Letter to a Mom Pregnant Again After Loss on our partner site Stillbirthday.com by clicking here.