S.A.
On April 16, 2000, my world fell apart when the doctor said to me, "I am sorry. There is no heartbeat. Your baby has died." I was 30 weeks pregnant. Three days later, on the 19th of April, at 7:45 a.m., my baby daughter was silently born into this world. She died as a result of nuchal cord - the umbilical cord was tightly bound 4 times around her neck. It was also too short and had to be cut in order to deliver her. She was our first baby. I had heard of stillbirth, but it never occurred to me that it could happen to me.
To make matters worse, I was living in a foreign country and couldn't speak the language, so hadn't any friends and couldn't get counseling. And to top it all off, we moved just 10 days later. Now I really knew nobody and felt so lonely and lost. The whole world just kept going and nobody stopped. I couldn't believe people could keep living when my baby had died. And, it seemed, *every* woman was pregnant - and happy. Unknowingly happy.
One woman in our new church felt really sorry for me. She had a son that was only 4 weeks old, but wanted desperately to be my friend. She kept reaching out, kept calling me, kept inviting me places, even when I answered her "No" more often than not. She tried to hide her son from me, thinking that the sight of him would make my pain even greater. She was right, and I appreciated her efforts. I appreciated ALL of her efforts, but most of all that she never gave up on me. You see, it was too hard for me to reach out. I just couldn't do it.
I appreciated it when people mentioned my daughter. Asked her name, how much she weighed, how long she was. Asked me how the birth was. Just like any other new mother would like to tell. I appreciated it when my new friend said, "Are you feeling sad about your baby today? Do you want some company? Would you like a visit?" Just came right out and mentioned my child, because most people never did. She was gone, forgotten.
Stillborn babies are often forgotten by everyone but the parents. Nobody had a relationship to the child themselves, apart from the mother, and possibly the father. And nobody knows how it feels unless they have also delivered a stillborn baby.
How can you help her?
- Be there. Reach out to her, time and time again. My friend never gave up. She kept calling me, month after month after month. Time alone may not be what she needs, but time with good friends who will let her be herself, let her cry.
- Ask her about her child, gently. Not everyone wants to talk about their baby, but some do. Those who do often don't bring the baby up knowing that it is awkward for others, but all they have of their children are memories, maybe some photos and/or footprints/handprints. They can't tell cute stories about what their 3 month old is doing, they can only repeat the same thing over and over - and often they want to do that.
- Do NOT say, "I know how you feel". You don't. And hopefully, you never will.
- Write down the baby's birthday and send her a text message or card next year for the baby's first birthday, telling your friend you are thinking about her on Baby's 1st Birthday. I can guarantee you it will mean a lot. Only my mother and one sister remembered my daughter's first birthday, besides me and my husband, plus another friend I had gotten who had also lost her child to stillbirth. Now, almost 9 years later, it is only that one friend who also lost a child who ever says anything on April 19. She always takes flowers out to the cemetery every year and gives me a card or tiny gift to let me know she is thinking of me. It is a terribly hard day, especially the first year.
- If you are unsure how much to say or ask, tell your friend that. Tell her you understand that this is hard and that you don't know what the right thing to do is. Be honest and let her set the limits.
- Use the baby's name! Tell her you are sorry that "Angela" died. Ask her if she would like to talk about "Jacob".
- DON'T tell her she can always have another baby. NO baby will ever replace the one she lost. She will remember and grieve for that child until the day she dies.
- DON'T tell her it was God's will, or that it was for the best. That is not comforting at all when you have buried a much-longed for baby. It hurts very much, in fact.
www.stillnomore.org is the National Stillbirth Society website. A Google search on stillbirth will give you many websites where you can read and learn about stillbirth. You will likely never experience a stillbirth yourself, maybe not even a miscarriage (also painful, but not the same - I've had two of those as well). But it is good to be informed.
There can be any number of reasons to explain what went wrong in your friend's pregnancy, or no reason at all. That is one of the saddest and hardest things; very often there is no explanation as to why the baby died. That is called SADS - Sudden Antenatal Death Syndrome, and more babies die from SADS than from SIDS each year.
Give your friend a hug and tell her how sorry you are. And as for yourself and your husband, best wishes on a safe and healthy pregnancy. It is scary to realise that pregnancy doesn't always have a happy ending, but most of the time, it does. Keep that in mind.
S., always mamma to Kayla Colleen, stillborn 19 April 2000
and Clara-Grace, born 28 July 2001
and Ingeborg-Nuki, born 16 October 2008