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Leave a Comment / Resources / By Miranda Hernandez / November 24, 2019 November 1, 2020 / Support after stillbirth / 1 minute of reading

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When Adrian first died, I felt like an outsider; a

When Adrian first died, I felt like an outsider; a person without community. I was a mother, but my child wasn't visible. I was a single woman, but I wasn't childfree by choice.⁠
⁠
I didn't "belong" anywhere.⁠
⁠
And then I became pregnant with Peanut, and suddenly community found me.⁠
⁠
It took me a while to realize how much that community wanted to focus on my living child to the exclusion of the one who was dead.⁠
⁠
And it hurt.⁠
⁠
It hurts to feel like my son is a painful topic; something to be treated as taboo.⁠
⁠
It hurts when people jump from my statements about Adrian to asking if I have "tried again" since then.⁠
⁠
It hurts when they focus on Peanut and her identity, but refuse to mention my firstborn.⁠
⁠
It's a silence I remember. Not one, but two.⁠
⁠
He existed too.⁠
⁠
~⁠
⁠
#LettersToAdrian - read the full letter at the link in bio⁠
⁠
#Stillbirth #ChildLoss #PregnancyLoss #PregnancyAfterLoss #ParentingAfterLoss #GrievingAChild #ChildLossGrief #OurFamilyIsMissingSomeone #SeaGlassFamily #AlwaysTwo

Four years ago this month, and yes, I STILL rememb

Four years ago this month, and yes, I STILL remember—⁠
⁠
I remember your eyes. Your calm, collected countenance, even though you seemed a bit rushed.⁠
⁠
I wonder if you would admit that now? It was an afternoon appointment and things were backed up. Scheduling, maybe?⁠
⁠
In any case, you did give me more time than I thought I might get elsewhere. I loved this aspect of midwifery care. I loved the ability to ask all of my questions. You made me feel like I was safe with you.⁠
⁠
How I wish I had been safe with you.⁠
⁠
I think about your smiling face and your easy-going ways.⁠
⁠
𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘓𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘵.⁠
⁠
𝘓𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘺𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 "𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯".⁠
⁠
"𝘈𝘥𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘨𝘦", 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.⁠
⁠
After all, I was "only" 35.⁠
⁠
I was only 35 and I was sucked in by wanting everything to be natural, and you made me feel like I could trust you.⁠
⁠
But when things got hard, you disappeared. Why was it your 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳 who called instead of you? And why did 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦 of you show up to the funeral? Why did none of you check on me after that first day? How did you take my money and disappear? Are you proud of yourselves?⁠
⁠
I remember your eyes at that last appointment. How you looked up at me when I told you he wasn't moving as much as usual.⁠
⁠
Was there a question there? Were you worried about me?⁠
⁠
I wish you would have said something. But mostly, you seemed in a hurry for me to leave.⁠
⁠
I remember your face on that last day, because I was looking for reassurance from you. I had noticed these things that were unusual for me. I was worried, but you were not.⁠
⁠
You failed me. You failed my child. You sent me home and told me I was "fine."⁠
⁠
You didn't give me anything to be cautious of; to watch out for. And only one week later, my child died.⁠
⁠
And somehow, I 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 see your smiling, easy-going face.⁠
⁠
I wonder what you see of mine?⁠
⁠
~⁠
⁠
#MirandasBlog (full post available at link in bio)⁠
Image credit Mybona via Getty Images

When I was new in my grief, I often didn't have wo

When I was new in my grief, I often didn't have words. My brain wasn’t ready yet; I was struggling with living.⁠
⁠
Almost four years out now, and I'm finally feeling ready to share.⁠
⁠
But now, somehow, when I talk about my child, people make assumptions.⁠
⁠
They assume I am hurting.⁠
They assume I need help.⁠
They assume I am not "over" his death. (As if death is something that can be "gotten over").⁠
⁠
They assume, most of all, that I am sharing as a means of outcry; that my words mean I need advice or love or hugs. (And please know, I appreciate these things! If not for themselves, then for the proof they provide of your love. I am always thankful for your love).⁠
⁠
I also need to ask you to listen—⁠
⁠
Because often, when I share about my deceased child, that's all I'm looking for: An ear. A person to open their heart to experience. Someone to take a moment in their day to read and acknowledge, without trying to analyze me.⁠
⁠
I am a bereaved mother.⁠
⁠
I am also a writer, and this is how I process and communicate.⁠
⁠
None of this means I'm broken; not in the way you mean.⁠
⁠
Please stop trying to fix me.⁠
⁠
𝐎𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝, 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐬. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡.⁠
𝐎𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧.⁠
⁠
#AJHGraphics #BereavedParent #BereavedMother #LifeAfterLoss #ActiveListening #HowToHelp #HowToSupport #PleaseListen #WhatINeed #Grief

I'm going to admit something right now that is inc

I'm going to admit something right now that is incredibly embarrassing. I'm going to admit it, because I think it's important to talk about. It's important to point out that even a bereaved mother such as myself can have a history of grief faux pas.⁠
⁠
Before Adrian died, I had very little sense of the impact of death. It was an abstract concept to me. I had known people who had died, but nobody close enough to trigger intense grief. And so, when someone in my circle lost a child, I misunderstood.⁠
⁠
Like most situations, there are some details to the story, and most of them are not my privilege to share. But when I saw that this person's relative had posted on Facebook about their child dying, instead of the parent themselves, my first thought was that the parent must not have cared…⁠
⁠
I want to smack myself today, because of course this is not true! But it is what I believed at the time, and I wonder how many other outsiders are feeling this way about me, or about other bereaved parents, today? And this is why I'm sharing.⁠
⁠
I'm sharing, because I think there is this unspoken assumption that appearances are everything: ⁠
⁠
If someone isn't tearing out their hair or doing the other things you "expect" of a grieving person, then they must not be feeling "real" grief.⁠
⁠
If someone is laughing, or chooses to go on an exotic vacation, then they must be "cured" of the pain of their child's loss, and now it's okay to pretend the loss never happened.⁠
⁠
And of course, these things are not true. But I know, even now, they are things that some people still believe.⁠
⁠
I am ashamed of what my first thoughts were when I heard about this child's death. And it wasn't until I lost my own son that I realized how completely clueless I had been.⁠
⁠
Grief is hard, and death isn't often talked about. And this is one of the reasons I write today. Because these stories are still happening, and your loved ones are still being hurt by them, and it's something you need to know.⁠
⁠
#NotesForTheSupportTeam :⁠
𝐍𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟. 𝐖𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"Most days I feel “fine.” I live life and I ca

"Most days I feel “fine.” I live life and I care for your sister, and when the subject comes up, I talk about you. I love talking about you. And sometimes I feel bad, even though I know better, that I hardly cry anymore. Your death has become superficially “normal.” (It will never be normal).⁠
⁠
And then days like today. It is quiet, and I am going through old emails, and it jumps in my face. You aren’t two weeks old. You never got to be. And I realize how much I checked out of those early days. And when I see these things, now, it hits me with immediacy.⁠
⁠
I miss you, my love. I miss you with parts of me gone silent and sleeping. With parts that are rusted and dusty and hiding. I miss you with an ache so deep it doesn’t know how to function in the light of the sun. So deep I can’t carry it and also keep living. But also built into me. You live inside me, and this is my world.⁠
⁠
You never got to be two weeks old. I never got to be two weeks deep in that kind of innocence. And somehow, I still treasure this. It was meant for you.⁠
⁠
I love you.⁠
⁠
Love,⁠
-Mama"⁠
⁠
#LettersToAdrian (link to full letter in bio)⁠
⁠
#Stillbirth #ChildLoss #BabyLoss #InfantLoss #StillbirthStory #StillbirthBlog #BabyLossStory #PregnancyAndInfantLoss #LifeAfterLoss #ParentingAfterLoss #ParentingInLoss #LettersToTheDead #LoveLettersToTheDead #IMissMySon

Here's to the 'tog who understands—⁠ ⁠ She m

Here's to the 'tog who understands—⁠
⁠
She may be a fellow mother,⁠
Or "just" a friend.⁠
⁠
She puts on the camera, and doesn't ask questions.⁠
⁠
She knows all the symbols, and she respects them.⁠
⁠
When the bear comes out, she treats him like a person;⁠
A member of the family, because he is.⁠
⁠
And when I find peace in this quiet moment—⁠
—She captures it.⁠
⁠
Photo by @lizmoralesphotography⁠
⁠
♥️🧸♥️⁠
⁠
#MirandasBlog #FamilyPhotography #EmotionalPhotography #EmotionalPhotographer #FamilyPhotographyCalifornia #MollyBear #MamasLove #Stillbirth #GriefJourney #LifeAfterLoss⁠ #FlashPoetry

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