10 Things I Learned About Pregnancy After Loss (Pursue Today)
Pregnancy after loss is a complicated journey. These are 10 things I learned about hope, grief, fear, and love, and how my two children can coexist.
Posts about my pregnancy with Adrian
Pregnancy after loss is a complicated journey. These are 10 things I learned about hope, grief, fear, and love, and how my two children can coexist.
June is an intense month for me, because each June, I relive these memories. Each June, I remember what it’s like to go into the hospital for a routine examination and be told my child has no heartbeat.
There is a subconscious, and in some places, even overt “war” going on between midwives and physicians, and it really needs to stop. I truly believe if either set of my providers had swallowed their pride and explained that sometimes, neither nature nor medicine are completely perfect, then my son would be alive today.
Almost three years ago, we both were pregnant. I didn’t realize at the time how closely we aligned. I think I thought about saying something then, but I didn’t. No excuses this time. And then your son was born, and my son died.Â
When I pictured this moment during our pregnancy, I had all the typical first birthday dreams. I thought about outfits, and cute party hats, and an elephant cake you would smash more than eat. I thought about family, and packed photo books, and maybe a few presents. But mostly just love.
I have heard some people say that stillbirth isn’t preventable. And that’s a hard subject for me, because while some deaths just happen, Adrian’s didn’t have to. There were warning signs, and while they were minor, they shouldn’t have been dismissed.
Pregnant with my daughter after the loss of my son, life is often complicated. Sometimes I can’t sleep. Sometimes I write about it.
My son died almost two years ago. It’s taken me a while to be able to return to sites like yours. I see you spoken of so positively, and I am happy to see you have chosen to discuss stillbirth recently. I am asking you to continue.
Statistics are funny. I really wish someone would do a study on the chances for real, taking into account the multiple factors that contribute to fertility. I still don’t know if I’m an anomaly, or if I just got lucky. I don’t feel lucky.
I keep waiting for sunshine, for something to tell me life isn’t always blue. I live in shades of blue.