BlogHer - Losing a baby to miscarriage or stillbirth hurts like hell but know you are never grieving alone - Comments

Master's thesis mention

Michemily — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 07:25:22 -0500

I mentioned this entry in my master's thesis and thought you might like to take a look.

http://michelleglauser.blogspot.com/2009/09/yes-you-may-read-my-thesis-b...

Thanks for writing!

I started blogging 5 months

hwestphal — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 23:51:51 -0500

I started blogging 5 months ago at the advice of an old friend when my son was stillborn. I now have 35 new friends who have all been in similar shoes. People, both mommies and daddies, who "get it". I was so comforted to read the heart of others who walk in this shadow also, to see that I wasn't the only one, that I wasn't alone, that I wasn't crazy and that yes, as ugly as it is, as unbelieveable as it seems...I will get through it. Thank you for pointing me to Glow in the Woods. I'll take all of the havens I can get. I hate that this club is so big. I hate that I know it exist and that I am now a memeber. I hate that everyday more and more people join this wretched club. but I love that there is so much support and comfort to be found here in blogland.

Keep Breathing.

http://mystolenlight.blogspot.com

I am sorry for your loss.

girlyclown — Sat, 21 Jun 2008 08:08:14 -0500

Jennifer---

i am sorry that you never got to see or hold your son after he was born. Things have change and there are many working to change just how stillbirth parent and family experiences stillbirth are treated.

I am not sure what state you are in but if you are in a state that offers a certificate of birth resulting in stillbirth you may want to look into getting one. http://www.missingangelsbill.org/

it may be too late to hold him and look at him but it is not too late to name him. It may bring you some peace.

beside The glow in the woods gals there are a few other place you can find blogs on loss... the baby loss directory, and the stirrup queen both have extensive blog rolls about various types onf baby loss. if you care to read or share.

peace, light and love from one stillbirth mom to another.

http://clownbaby.blogspot.com

Thank you

HeidiO — Tue, 13 May 2008 15:51:27 -0500

Thank you for thinking of all the other mom's who are hurting. There are times I put my miscarriage out of my mind and it hits me like a brick at the most unexpected moments. I can't imagine the pain of losing a child after they are born, but knowing the pain of the miscarriage seems to be the closest thing I can imagine. Sometimes it's good to be reminded that there are others out there that hurt too. In real life people forget or just don't want to hear about it after that first month or so. Here's a place to go no matter how long it has been, you still grieve. Thank you for creating a place to belong.

http://momydoesntlivehereanymore.blogspot.com/

Brave Jen, thank you for

Tracey Clark — Sat, 10 May 2008 09:32:05 -0500

Brave Jen, thank you for sharing your story. There is strength and comfort in mourning our losses together. Glow in the Woods is a gift of the most heartbreakingly courageous kind.

Tracey Clark Mother May I & Shutter Sisters

Thanks

WonderSpot — Mon, 05 May 2008 19:53:26 -0500

Wow. I just wrote a blog post this morning about miscarrying this weekend. As much as I hate that ANYONE else has to feel this way, there's some sort of comfort in knowing I'm not alone right now...no matter what it feels like.

Thanks for writing this.

WonderSpot
www.wonderspot.net

It is good but sad that we are not alone...

Crunchy Carpets — Mon, 05 May 2008 13:32:17 -0500

I lost Scott on December 5th...and I am still in awe of the amount of women who comforted me and shared their pain.

And yeah..even today..our nurses were pretty crappy about the whole experience....had no real clue how to treat us or our child.

It was the social worker who was an angel..I will never forget her...or my boy.

But it does get better.

The pain. I woke up one day and realized I was ok. That I could mourn him and dream about him...but still move on....

My wee boy that never got a chance.

Look for me at http://crunchycarpets.com or check out the ladies at www.wetcoastwomen.com

I had been following both

Dana J. Tuszke — Mon, 05 May 2008 08:43:07 -0500

I had been following both ladies' blogs and was heartsick when I learned of their miscarriages. I couldn't stop crying.

I had a miscarriage 11 months after my son was born. I didn't even know I was pregnant until the bleeding and when I went to the emergency room the doctors and nurses were just zooming around, avoiding direct conversation and eye contact.

I was so naive, I thought,"Tthis won't hurt because I didn't have the chance to absorb all this information." But two days later the grief set in and I thought I was losing my mind. I couldn't figure out why I was sobbing over a pregnancy I barely had a second to consider. (Maybe it was hormones, but I felt like a mess.)

The worst part is the guilt. Thinking you've done something wrong to damage or rid your body of that pregnancy. That's the hardest part to get over. At least it was for me.

My thoughts and prayers are with Alice and SC. There are no words to make the pain go away, but it's true. They don't have to grieve alone.

I had a stillbirth 5 years ago.

Crissi77 — Sat, 03 May 2008 14:56:07 -0500

I, unfortunately, did go through this. At the time, I couldn't believe that bad stuff like this really did happen in real life. A few months later, I then suffered a miscarriage. but I was still hurting so bad from the stillbirth that I couldn't even focus on the fact that I had just lost another baby. At that time, life became slow motion and the days blended in with each other. With time, life has resumed to normal, or what normal is after you lose a child. I don't think you ever fully get over it. The world is seen through new eyes. To this day I have a hard time sharing in the joy when a friend or family member has a baby. But I am the first to support when someone I know has a failed pregnancy. I'm sorry you had to go through this too. Like you, I don't like others to join this club. Thank you for sharing your story. You can read mine at http://www.winecountrymom.com/his-middle-name-was-marley/

Check out my blog on adventures as a single mom. www.winecountrymom.com

Haven't been though this

Vered — Sat, 03 May 2008 12:51:26 -0500

But I am so sorry for you loss. And for any other woman who goes through this.

Anyone who ever doubted that an online community can be a "real" community and provide people with "real" support (and I have heard that being questioned more than once), should read this post.

Vered DeLeeuw
www.momgrind.com

Losing a baby to miscarriage or stillbirth hurts like hell but know you are never grieving alone

Jennifer Satterwhite — Fri, 02 May 2008 23:52:20 -0500

I was 21 years old when I gave birth to my stillborn son Jacob. While my friends were out clubbing, I was home grieving. I grew up much faster than I wanted to in a way that I would not wish on anyone. Ever. It was 16 years ago. At that time in a smallish college town, the nursing staff didn't quite know how to handle me or what exactly to say. The extent of "reaching out" was giving me a pamphlet to read "when I felt up to it" and was ready. The first words out of my nurse's mouth when I delivered were, "Oh my goodness! He is so small. Are you sure you want to really see him?" She said it with horror in her voice.

Here I am 21 years old, my first baby and knowing not one soul who had ever gone through this before. My answer was "No. That's okay. Just take him." And I never saw my son. I regret it to this day. I don't blame the nurse for her ignorance as much as I blame the staff for not preparing the nurses better for situations like that. I had to beg them to move me off of the maternity floor seeing as my room was directly across from the nursery. I guess it was a different time. I hope things have changed and no one ever has to go through that kind of treatment when they lose a baby.

When I had a miscarriage later, I never really told anyone. I knew how I would be treated then. It was more painful to share than stay quiet then.

Today, there are amazing resources to help a Mom go through such a horrible time. Support groups. Online groups. Blogs. Friends you have met through blogging. You can say what you need to and find love and support. I wish I had that 16 years ago.

This week, I am so sad that two of my favorite bloggers have suffered such losses. Miscarriages. My heart breaks for them. And as alone as I know they feel, I can also see the out pouring of love for these women.

When I read that Alice of Finslippy suffered a miscarriage I sobbed for her. I felt the words she wrote with such a sharp pain I wanted nothing more than to reach through the computer and hug her tightly. It wouldn't change a thing but sometimes just knowing you are not alone helps.

Everything that follows is a blur. I believe the first thought I had
was, "And now I shall have a margarita." It was the best thing I could
think to stop myself from losing all control, but I couldn't stop it,
of course, and soon I was weeping so loudly that I imagined the office
staff ushering all the pregnant women out of the building. Nothing to see here, ladies! No bad news around here! Who's for ice cream?
The doctor left me alone so I could call Scott, and arrange for someone
to pick up Henry, there was no way I could pick him up from school in
my current state. The call to Scott was the worst call I ever had to
make. I kept repeating what the doctor had said. I'm so sorry, I'm so
sorry. Because if I could feel bad for him, if I could concentrate on
him and all he had lost, I didn't have to think about what was inside
me at that moment.

Her words took me back to a time when my heart was shattered. (Though I actually hit the nurse who tried to comfort me. Anything to not focus on what was happening inside me.) Losing a baby is a club I don't ever want to have new members join. Ever.

Just over a week ago I rejoiced over at Sarcastic Mom as she shared the news that her family of three was becoming a family of four. I adore her. She brings humor to just about everything. Then just nine days later she shared that she had a miscarriage. She has written some hearbreaking yet beautiful entries about this loss. You really should read her words. They take you on her sad journey. For those of you who have no idea what it is like, she helps you to understand. For those of us who have been there, we cry with her and know the agony.

Twenty-four hours later yet, I was standing in my kitchen, having not received the test results yet, speaking to my (empty) uterus with fractured, clinging hope.

“Are you still in there? Is it possible? I love you. Please fight; please hold on, little baby.”

That night, I fell asleep while I repeated the same thing over and over again in my head.

“God, please let my baby live. God, please let my baby live. God, please….”

I have tried to make that same bargain with God in her position. I have lost it, too. Again, I sobbed with a fellow Mom whose heart was shattered over the loss of her baby.

I know there is nothing I can say or do to make it better. Nothing I can say or do to help either of them feel "okay" right now. What I am thankful for for them is the community that is rallying around them. The people who are sending their love and thoughts their way. Because? No matter how many people you have around you, you feel alone and lost. Yet, when you see so many people sending you love, it does help in some way to at least know people care and your baby is not someone people will forget about or dismiss.

A new website was started this week. It's called Glow In The Woods. From their about page:

For mamas of still babies, tiny babies, lost potential of all kinds.

In the beginning you stagger, disoriented, through this storm.

We
want to be a glow through the trees, a golden refuge of log and glass.
Stumble up the steps, shake off the snow and the crust and the
stiffness, cross the threshold to be encircled by figures welcoming,
nodding, easing you to a roaring fire and piping hot tea and wine and
whoopie pies and whatever else warms you from the inside out.

Sink
into a battered old sofa, tuck your feet under your legs, a woodsmokey
quilt around your shoulders, fingers wrapped around a hot mug,

and be with us.

One
of us, only half-joking, said this will be a place where us medusas can
take off our hats, none minding the sight of all the snakes. Because
not only can we bear the sight of each other—we crave it.

Babylost mamas, this place is yours.

A place where you are not alone. That is priceless when you feel so alone. It is written by six women. Six women who have been through this. It is not your typical group blog. Every few months the six of them will come up with an faq of sorts, a
vanity fair-inspired inventory of darkness and light on this healing
journey. They ask questions. You can post them on your blog and answer them. But the best thing? It is a place where you can be understood. That is good. That is very good.

If you have lost a baby, please know this. You will never be alone-- even if you feel like you are. Sadly, there are many among us who are more than willing to hold your hand, hug you or just support you from afar.

For those women who have been through the loss of a baby--through
miscarriage, still birth, any kind of loss, I am sorry. I will always
cry with you. I will always listen to you. I will remember with you.

---

Jennifer also blogs at Mommy Needs Coffee and is the founder of Mommybloggers.