Thoughts on Natural Birth
When I was pregnant with Adrian, I was excited about the prospect of a natural birth. Unfortunately, there were several aspects I was not informed about. These are some things I wish I had known.
When I was pregnant with Adrian, I was excited about the prospect of a natural birth. Unfortunately, there were several aspects I was not informed about. These are some things I wish I had known.
The beautiful and complicated journey of parenting after loss; loving and caring for both the children who are living, and those who are gone.
Pregnancy after loss is a whirlwind of emotions, medical appointments, and complicated grief. This is a collection of posts about the subject.
Comparing grief has never been a useful exercise for me. Your own worst thing is your own worst thing. My tragedy can’t lessen or lessened by anyone else’s experience. I refuse to compare grief or play grief olympics.
Raised ostensibly Christian, I never found a home in Christianity or any other organized faith. I am grieving without thoughts of religion or a deity.
Guilt, fault, and blame are common feelings after loss, especially after the loss of a child. I think it is important to honor these feelings.
Something that isn’t often discussed is the financial impact of losing a child. Lawsuits; life insurance; medical bills & funeral costs–it’s all relevant
There is a lot of discussion in the world about postpartum bodies, but unfortunately very little about postpartum bodies after loss. This is a particular interest of mine, and so I have written about it pretty extensively. I hope the following pieces are of use to you.
The loss of a child can impact your mental health in various ways. These are some thoughts on my personal experience after loss.
Loss and grief have unfortunate secondary effects on most of the relationships in our lives, both old and new. Grief may test and change older relationships, and people may go separate ways. Grief may also help to build new relationships with other bereaved who understand.
Death Positivity – /deTH ˌpäzəˈtivədē/ noun. Recognition that death is a natural part of and the ultimate end to all life. Let’s talk about it.
Before my son died, I knew very little about death or grief. Today, I realize grief is both important and necessary. Grief isn’t shameful, or limited, or merely a passage; it simply exists, in whatever form and space it needs. This is grief positivity.
For more than a year after my son’s death by stillbirth, I experienced suicidal feelings and thoughts. This is my story of how I coped and finally chose to live.
As a non-believer throughout my life, I wondered if losing my child would challenged any of my spiritual feelings and beliefs. It didn’t. I held a secular funeral for my child, and even as a bereaved mother, I am comfortable with my non-religious beliefs.
One of the least-talked-about aspects of stillbirth and pregnancy loss is that postpartum bodies still carry weight & produce milk, whether you have a living child or not. This is my journey with my postpartum body after stillbirth.
Crawling out of the early days and fog of grief after the death of my child and rejoining the world is one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life.
After Adrian’s death, I came home from the hospital to a fully furnished nursery and without a living child. I wanted nothing more than to sleep for weeks, but I had to deal with milk, and funeral planning, and all the minutiae of being postpartum without a living child.
29 June 2017: The day my son died – When she couldn’t find a heartbeat with the doppler, I think the idea started to form in my head, but I wasn’t quite ready…I remember the doctor’s face as he said the words, “I’m sorry.” My next memory is of someone screaming. It was me.
With the benefit of hindsight, I can look back on my pregnancy and identify the signs both I am my providers should have seen before Adrian died. There were multiple problems that led to his preventable stillbirth.
The story of how I planned for conception and pregnancy as a single mother by choice (SMC), the process of becoming pregnant, and the sheer joy in looking forward to my son Adrian’s birth.
My name is Miranda Hernandez. I am a single mother by choice. My son Adrian passed away on 29 June 2017, and was stillborn the following day. I will love and honor him for the rest of my life.
I didn’t have a guest book at Adrian’s funeral. I wish I had thought of it. The space serves that purpose for everyone touched by Adrian’s life.
Although I had a funeral for Adrian, I also wanted to do something special to celebrate his life on what would have been his first birthday. I wanted something not so much focused on grief, but more on his impact; a type of celebration. I had already decided to build this website, and so it seemed natural to have a party and document both its launch and my son’s short but beautiful life.
Adrian was cremated, but it was important to me that he also have a funeral. I wanted to honor him and his short but powerful life.
My water broke in a gushing flood. I understood then what women meant when they said it felt like peeing. I looked down, expecting to see water pooling on the tile floor. What I saw instead was blood.
Adrian James Hernandez was stillborn on 30 June 2017 due to complications from undiagnosed preeclampsia. He was 9lb, 0oz; 22 in long and perfectly formed. He is forever loved, and forever missed.