Mama Look Up

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After years of struggling with infertility and recurrent pregnancy loss, I’ve been looking for a way to help others in their journey.  I am hoping that I can share my sympathy and compassion for those grieving through this process and the loss of pregnancies.  I decided to share my photography and words of encouragement and support in the form of cards.  My inspiration also comes from the heartache and grief that I experience every Mother’s Day, wishing for acknowledgement of my babies lost and a desire to not feel so alone in my experience of motherhood without my children here with me.  How do you get a Mother’s Day card for someone like me?  Well, I decided to make them so hopefully someone out there who really needs to be seen as a Mother and needs her baby to be remembered on Mother’s Day will get a card and feel less isolated and heartbroken.

I invite you to follow me on my new Instagram account for my Etsy shop (@mamalookup) and to browse through my cards on Etsy, Mama Look Up.  Please also check out the other tab on my blog, “Mama Look Up”.

Love is an Ocean and other Pretty Things


It hasn’t been an easy couple of months.  My embryo transfer cycle brought a lot of traumatic  memories to the surface and created anxiety at a much higher level than I expected. My husband was out of town quite a bit which meant I had to do many of my IM injections on my own.  My nurse drew a target on my booty to help me hit the right spot.  (Pardon the messy room in the photo)


Ultimately, this cycle ended in bad news…a negative pregnancy test.  I couldn’t bring myself to write about it until now and it took me a couple weeks to talk to my doctor.  Sadly, this bad news lead right into the four year anniversary of losing Jaxon (our first loss at 15 weeks) and I struggled emotionally right up to that date (March 23).  I took a walk that day where I discovered the sign above, “love is an ocean”.  Whoever placed it here has no idea how much love is here.  This is where we spread Jaxon’s ashes.  I took the photo two days later on my birthday.

My husband gave me this necklace for my birthday.  He said it represents our home by the ocean but more importantly is a symbol for Jaxon at the center where my birthstone in aquamarine is placed.  That was the first time I thought about sharing my birthstone with Jaxon and it gave me a sense of peace.  This necklace brought a lot of love to me on my birthday.  “Love is an ocean” is what I now carry around my neck and close to my heart.


I wanted to be around something beautiful for my birthday.  My husband and I went with some friends to a botanical garden.  Tulips ruled the land and the colors painted our day, leaving everyone with smiles…and a peacock to bid us farewell.  

Out of the Darkness, the Light of an Angel

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There have now been many times in my life that I reflect on as my darkest hour.  Not just one.  Many.  Many, many hours of darkness.  Every pregnancy loss, every failed embryo transfer, the death of a loved one.  My third pregnancy loss left me feeling empty and hopeless like I was living in a blank space for a while.  Yet somehow as I crawl or walk or fall down or stumble through the periods of grief, trauma and pain that turn life colorless and dark, there is someone there reaching out a hand and bringing the light back.  I’ve worked very hard since my third pregnancy loss to make my world colorful and bright again.  But it wouldn’t be the same beautiful place without the gifts of light coming to me from my friends, my family and my husband.  This experience with infertility and recurrent pregnancy loss has created new relationships.  Bonds created easily through similar experiences of loss and struggles to make a baby.  The online support group I joined (that I now consider a miraculous discovery) has brought some amazing women into my life.  One of whom reached out to me after my last miscarriage and sent me an open invitation to her home…whenever I was ready…whenever I needed to get away…whenever I just needed some girl time and a break from my life.  It took me about 4 months to take her up on that offer.

A couple weeks ago I flew to LA and there she was – my new friend, my sister in this journey, an open heart and an open hand.  A woman full of words of hope and support and encouragement.  A woman full of hugs that would carry me through another embryo transfer cycle and another set of holidays without a baby in my arms.  A woman who knew my pain and shared in it so deeply, her eyes would tear up when she talked to me about what I had been through.  A woman full of so much generosity and sincerity, she warmed my heart and re-filled my soul with her kindness and optimism.

There she was – The light in the darkness – An angel reaching out to me and her name is Carolina.

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I captured this photo at the beginning of this year.  Thinking I was just trying to capture the moon, I somehow ended up with the image of an Angel.  The moon is her heart.  I can see her wings.  The light of our babies’ souls being held in her hands, preparing them to be angels too.

Everyone wants to be the sun to lighten up someone’s life,

but why not be the moon,

to brighten in the darkest hour.

Unlocking the Mystery of Miscarriage

sunset

For those of us who have suffered through miscarriage, one of the most difficult aspects to emotional recovery and trying to find peace after enduring the grieving process is that we can be left in a constant search for Why.  Quite often miscarriage is simply unfair and unexplainable, leaving us with a dangerous mind game of blaming ourselves…

  • I had some decaf coffee.  How much caffeine is in a decaf coffee?  What was I thinking?
  • I ate gluten, wait maybe I should be eating gluten.
  • I ate some chocolate, OMG I need to cut back on sugar.  Ooh, is that a cupcake?  Damn, this is all my fault.
  • I got in a fight with my husband and got really stressed out.  We got in another fight and I was crying too much.  I stressed out my body, it’s my fault.
  • I had a rough week at work and I was totally exhausted.  It’s my fault because I didn’t put myself on bed rest for the first 6 weeks of pregnancy.
  • Maybe I exercised too much
  • I didn’t exercise enough
  • I didn’t get enough sleep
  • I’m sleeping too much
  • I’m overweight and my BMI is too high
  • I had an herbal tea.  Oh shit, what herbs were in that tea?
  • My fears and anxiety over pregnancy caused me to lose the baby
  • God is punishing me
  • I didn’t love the baby enough
  • I should have been eating flax seed crackers instead of graham crackers
  • My uterus is uninhabitable, or tilted, or shaped funny.  Wait, what size and shape is my uterus supposed to be?
  • Does my cervix know what it’s supposed to do?  Is it incompetent?  Is it confused?
  • Oh crap, was I drinking out of a water bottle that wasn’t BPA free?
  • I ate some meat that wasn’t organic and grass fed.

If you’ve been through this, you know that the list can go on and on.  No matter how many doctors tell you it’s not your fault, when left with no medical reasons, our devotion to the role of motherhood can cause us to carry blame for the sake of protecting and mothering the baby that we lost.

For quick reference, here’s a good read on the top reasons for miscarriage:

Reasons for Miscarriage

When I had my first miscarriage, I recall my OB/GYN saying that it was horribly bad luck.  It was like a lightning strike. (The first loss was due to a subchorionic hemorrhage at 15 weeks).  After my second loss, again it appeared to be bad luck.  I had become pregnant with identical twins following the transfer of one embryo.  It was perhaps the result of them competing against each other and I lost them around 9 weeks.  The third was twins again, following the transfer of two embryos.  I lost this pregnancy around 9 weeks and we were left with a mystery, confusion and hopelessness.  Testing was completed for all three losses and each one found to be genetically normal.  Is there something linking all three of these losses?  Something not yet detected?  Can it just be random bad luck three pregnancies in a row?  Or does each one have a different reason lingering behind the loss?

My husband and I were at a loss.  My OB/GYN was at a loss.  My fertility specialist was left speechless.  All of us shocked, hurt and not sure what to do next.  Following my third miscarriage, we were referred to a recurrent pregnancy loss specialist at Stanford Fertility and Reproductive Health.  What follows is a list of tests that I’ve been through following each miscarriage in case it is helpful to those of you in a similar situation.

Miscarriage 1:

Miscarriage 2:

No additional testing

Miscarriage 3:

  • Hysteroscopy
  • Comprehensive metabolic panel
  • C-reactive protein
  • Anti TPO Antibody
  • TSH (again)
  • Hemoglobin A1C
  • CBC
  • Antiphospholipid Antibody Expanded Panel (includes the following)-See link below for article on Antiphospholipid Syndrome (APS):
    • Lupus Anticoagulant
    • Anticardiolipin
    • AntiB2glycoprotein 1
    • Antiphosphatidyl ethanolamine
    • Antiphosphatidyl serine
    • Antiphosphatidic acid
    • Antiphosphatidyl glycerol
    • Antiphosphatidyl inositol

Out of all of these blood tests, did we find an answer?  Have we unlocked the mystery of my miscarriages?  Well, kind of, maybe…we have a clue but it could be inconclusive…but it’s a good enough clue to act on it.  The good news is that after all these tests, I know that I’m not diabetic, I don’t have an autoimmune disease, or thyroid problem and my uterus is in great shape!

While the results from these tests did not give a medical textbook answer, we did find a combination of things that could mean something and this came out of the Antiphospholipid Antibody Expanded Panel.  One of these (Antiphosphatidyl-inositol IgG) gave a result as “indeterminate” rather than negative.  You’ll notice in these lists of tests that there are several that relate to blood clotting factors.  During pregnancy, the blood thickens and changes in other ways that I won’t try to explain because I’m not an expert but this is all important in relation to blood supply to the placenta and survival of the fetus.  In my case, the combination of this indeterminate result with the timing of my miscarriages (15 weeks and 9 weeks) and the fact that all were genetically normal puts me in a possible diagnosis of Antiphospholipid Syndrome (APS).  While this is not exact evidence of APS, there is enough reason to believe that I could try to become pregnant again with the treatment of Heparin and baby aspirin daily during pregnancy.  For details on APS, check out this informative article

The investigative work is not yet quite over.  I’m still going to be meeting with a perinatal specialist to go over all of this as well, but I have a feeling we won’t get much more information than we have now.  From there, this big question will continue to linger…can I mentally, physically and emotionally hold up for another try?

 

Appendix:

Since I took the time to look up my tests, here’s a list of testing done for IVF and FETs:

Pre-IVF:

  • Prolactin
  • TSH (repeated approximately yearly)
  • FSH (day 3)
  • E2, Pre-Cycle (day 3)
  • Anti-Mullerian Hormone (AMH)
  • 17-alpha-Hydroxyprogesterone LCMS
  • FSH (day 3) repeated 2 months later
  • E2, Pre-Cycle (day 3) repeated 2 months later
  • Tested for various STDs
  • RPR/VDRL-Rapid Plasma Reagin, Qual
  • CBC (repeated throughout process of FET’s)
  • Blood typing, RH Type
  • Vitamin D (repeated throughout process of FET’s)
  • Cystic Fibrosis Profile
  • Anti-Mullerian Hormone (AMH) tested again

IVF cycle and FET cycles:

  • Follicular ultrasounds (repeated through cycle)
  • Estradiol (repeated through cycle)
  • Progesterone

Photo by CJE

A Blessing for Mamas

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Mother’s Day was hard.  No words would come to me.  I couldn’t think of anything to write in my blog.  My thoughts and pain were stuck in my head and in my heart.  The day felt like a complete disappointment.  I thought about my Mom and how much I love her.  I’m so grateful for the life she has given me and what she continues to give every day of my life. And I’m thankful that she is just a phone call away.  I wished her a Happy Mother’s Day, but I couldn’t hide the sadness that had settled behind my voice.  The heartache of my losses beat me up yesterday and overpowered the love and appreciation I have for all the Moms in my life.   In the jumble of thoughts and emotions stuck in my brain yesterday, there was one thing that I kept hearing in my head over and over and over again throughout the day.  

A Blessing for Mamas

Late last night I couldn’t sleep and the words came out and I started writing.  One day late for Mother’s Day, I share this with you because it wasn’t just a hard day for me.  I know for many of you, it was a tough day too.

A blessing for mamas whose babies are here
They grow, they love, and they learn with you near.
They roll, they crawl, they walk and they run
Play chase, tumble and sing and have fun.
They stumble and trip and cry and throw fits
But you hold them and squeeze them and love them to bits.
First smile, first word, first step, and first giggle
She runs to your arms with love and a wiggle.
Your heart beats for her, a soul meant to be
A mama like you, I’d be proud if it’s me.

A blessing for mamas whose babies were gifted
A heart broken down now suddenly lifted.
A woman let go and now he is placed
In the warm, open arms of your soft embrace.
The long wait is over and in his eyes you know
This little one is mine; the love will blossom and grow.
Miracles do happen, do not overlook them
Your faith lead you here and you get to keep him.
Your heart beats for him, a soul meant to be
A mama like you, I’d be proud if it’s me.

A blessing for mamas whose babies were taken
Your world was shattered, shredded and shaken.
Your angel in heaven; she guides you with love
She sees every tear, and watches from above.
Your arms are empty, no baby to hold
Don’t live in silence, your story must be told.
Let your pain be replaced over time with her light
An angel you made; your life worth the fight.
Your heart beats for her, a soul meant to be
A mama like you, I’d be proud if it’s me.

A blessing for mama who’s waiting; why me?
Your faith and sweet hope given so openly.
There’s no answers, no timeline, no promise or end
You are stuck in the middle knowing fate might not bend.
There are doctors and needles and so many tests
What will it take to fill up my nest?
Your heart, your marriage, your life feels broken
What do you do when no answers are spoken?
Your heart beats for him, a soul still to be
A mama like you, I’d be proud if it’s me.

 

Poem and Photo by CJE, 31chances.com

The Unopened Gift

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Trigger warning:  This post is about pregnancy loss

Last Tuesday we went to what was supposed to be our “graduation day” from our fertility center.  It was our 10 week ultrasound, one day early.  I brought a gift for my doctor.  I had framed the photo for him from  “One Little White Light”  as it was such a symbol of hope for all of us in the room.  With high anticipation and holding our breath, we looked for the baby.  But to our complete shock, there was no heartbeat.  Again, our happiness crashing down around us in an instant.  Darkness invading my mind.  My heart breaking into a million pieces.  Tears streaming.  Shock.  It’s not possible.  This can’t be happening. I can’t do this again.  I can’t do this again.  I can’t do this again.

I was two days away from celebrating my last intra-muscular injection.  I was in so much pain from those injections and was so close to this milestone.  I had been counting down the days for the past two weeks, willing myself to get through each one, knowing it was best for the pregnancy.  And then suddenly there was nothing to celebrate.  Coming home from the doctor appointment, I had the gift bag in my hand and there is no one to give it to and there is no longer a reason to open it.  What do I do with it?

And so it begins… the un-doing of a pregnancy and the dreams that came with it.  I have to tell my friends and family that know I’m pregnant.  Canceling doctor appointments, figuring out how to write the email to my work to let them know I won’t be back for awhile.  Phone calls with my OB, a grueling confirmatory ultrasound, and calls with the hospital to schedule and prep for another D&C.  Fighting the agony that comes from every image and thought that I’ve had in my head over the past 6 weeks since we got the positive pregnancy test.  Realizing my morning sickness is quickly disappearing and fully aware that the hormonal changes coming my way are going to feel like crap.  Watching my husband grieve but I can’t help him because I’m in too much pain and I can’t stop crying for hours and hours and hours.  Letting go of how happy I felt every day waking up pregnant.  Now faced with the fear of waking up in the night forced to realize that my baby is gone.

I had become so attached to an online support group for women who had become pregnant after their long time struggles with infertility.  In the six weeks I was with the group, I had seen several babies born and several more were very close to coming into this world.  There was a list of due dates going into December.  There must have been at least 30 of us, with mine listed as November 16.   November 16.  Another date to add to my list of haunting dates.  I had become attached to their stories, their daily posts about food cravings and appreciated discomforts, and birthing plans, and what to put on a registry, and photos of nurseries, and photos of newborns and simply the unwritten word that we all just understood each other…And I had to say goodbye.

In the doctor’s office after getting the news, my husband and I were left alone for awhile to deal with our new reality.  I kept telling him, “I don’t want to go back, I don’t want to go back to the way it was before.”  I had crossed the line from infertility and TTC to Babyland.  I loved it here in Babyland.  I did not want to go back to the stories of struggles and pain and suffering and what if’s and waiting and loss and heartbreak.  I didn’t want to go back.  Please don’t make me go back.

The framed photo I brought for my doctor was now an image that tore through my heart like the most cruel joke that could be played on me.  I had wanted to hang that photo in our nursery.  That day on the beach…it was our beautiful gift.  Now, never to be opened.

 

One Little White Light

It seems that at this point I should have lost count, but I can’t because I know how many I have lost.   I try to let the numbers and dates stay blurry, but I know how old my first baby should be. He should be 2 and a half. I purposely try not to remember the due date of the twins. But I can still see their heartbeats. There are six other embryos that disappeared somewhere in between the transfer to my body and the pregnancy test. On Monday, I had my ninth embryo transfer. Two more embryos.

On Monday morning before the transfer, I went for a walk with my dog. I had a choice to go left or right on the trail and decided to go right. We ended up near a beach where she loves to play catch but we didn’t have time for that…but she pulled me out to the beach anyway, looking back at me expectantly with a huge wide smile and tongue hanging out. The beach was empty except for the stroller in this photo. For a second I thought, well maybe my baby is right there waiting for me! Well, no that wasn’t the case, but I tried to view this as a hopeful moment. Somehow, maybe this is a sign. My babies that are watching over me and the baby that is still to be is here with me in this moment. A moment to give me courage to try again. To wait those nine hopeful, yet agonizing days again waiting for the pregnancy test.

stroller on the beach

 

The sun was blinding me, but I snapped a photo anyway, not quite sure what I would end up with. I wanted to be reminded of the stroller that was in my path. As I faced the stroller and the rock wall where we had once stood to spread our baby Jaxon’s ashes, I could feel them all with me.   A little white light ended up in the photo and I choose to see the souls that I love so much in that light.

One little white light, Two embryos, Nine days to wait.  Trying one more time.

2 embryos

GIVE VOICE: #GivingTuesday

Giving Tuesday 2015 Banner

The Resolve.org #GivingTuesday topic for October is “Give Voice.”  It’s about sharing our Infertility Story.  For this topic, I’m re-posting a previous blog post titled, The long, long wait.

The long, long, wait

I was first married at the age of 31. I married my high school “sweetheart” after we had been together for about 15 years or so. I remember in those early days of marriage and through most of our married relationship, we’d get a lot of questions about when we would have kids. Sometimes questions were direct, and sometimes they were subtle hints. Sometimes it was not subtle at all. I remember a family camping trip where the in-laws snuck into our tent leaving behind baby shower signs. I thought it was kind of cute and funny at the time, not knowing I would still be childless so many years later. In the beginning, these questions didn’t really bother me. It was definitely on my mind, but following high school, we had both been very driven with our college education and our careers. Once we were ready for marriage, there were travel plans to fulfill before babies. I wasn’t quite yet ready for kids, but I also knew that time was ticking and I didn’t want to end up regretting it later because I had “missed my chance.”   In that dual income, no kids relationship, we were fortunate to travel to South Africa, Zambia, Kenya, Tanzania, New Zealand, Amsterdam, France and Greece. It was truly incredible. I’m thankful for those opportunities and the memories of seeing lions, elephants, zebras and monkeys in the wild, glaciers in New Zealand, and sunsets in Santorini. When I turned 34, the clock was ticking loudly and I thought we better not waste any more time. But here’s where infertility hit without actually being an “infertile couple”. It just takes one person in the relationship to decide that kids were no longer in our future and bam…you can no longer make a baby. And that’s what happened. And during this time, I had my first experiences avoiding the comments…

”When are you going to have a baby?”

“You better not wait too long or you’ll miss your chance”

These questions and comments tore through my heart. I was now facing a decision of staying married with no kids or divorcing with the hope of still having them in the future. It was then, that I started realizing how hurtful these questions can be. I hadn’t even touched the surface of infertility at this point in my life, but this is when I realized, even hinting at parenthood could be a painful topic. I myself had been guilty of asking others these questions without any idea that it could be such a difficult topic.

I went through my 20’s avoiding pregnancy, and there I was in my early 30’s wanting a baby.   But now the person I had married was taking away an irreplaceable dream.   My high school sweetheart turned out not to be so sweet. This was the first time in my life I had to go through the grieving process of not being able to have a baby. By the age of 36, I was going through a divorce. I had no idea if I would marry again, have a baby, or if I would even have issues trying to get pregnant.   I remember thinking, “how could I possibly meet someone, fall in love, get engaged, get married and have a baby while I still actually have good eggs? Who knows how long this could take?”

A year and half went by between my separation, finalized divorce and magical eHarmony wink. And there he was. We went on one date and fell in love. So, that accelerated my imaginary timeline to baby quite a bit. Five months later we were engaged and a year and a half after meeting, we were married.   I was 38 when we got married. Let the baby making commence! Well…not so fast. We determined at the beginning of our relationship that we were one of those 1 in 8 couples. Three months after we were married we had our first round of IVF. In early January of 2013 I found out I was pregnant. Two days before my 39th birthday, I miscarried at 15 weeks. From there our story continued with a second miscarriage of twin girls and now I am moving toward our 8th embryo transfer at the age of 41. I’ve been married twice, yet I’ve never had the chance to try to conceive naturally.

I’m 41 years old and still trying to have a baby. But trying to conceive at 41, brings a lot of blessings in addition to the heartache. At 41, nobody asks anymore, “when are you going to have kids?” Nobody is on our case about having a baby.   Nobody says, “you better hurry up”. Baby showers become a rarity, since all of our friends already had one or two kids years ago. By the time 39 slipped away from me, baby making peer pressure that had previously existed, simply faded away.

Where that’s helpful when faced with infertility, it’s also scary because you start to realize that perhaps there’s no longer a reason for anyone to ask those questions. I worry that people may think we are crazy to try to have a baby so late in life.  Or may not even believe it is possible. While I see other women in their 20’s and 30’s going through the challenges and emotional pain of infertility, I realize in some ways I’m really lucky. When I was in my late 20’s and throughout my 30’s, all of my friends were having babies. But all this was happening at a time when I wasn’t faced with infertility and the pain associated with that journey. I went to a lot of baby showers and played a lot of baby shower games. I bought a lot of baby gifts. I could enjoy walking into a Baby Gap and buying some cute little outfits. I was able to be there with my friends not just for baby #1, but also for baby #2. And I loved all of it. I was able to be emotionally there for them and to watch their joy and feel their joy with them. I was able to be a friend and really care deeply about their move into mommyhood and was able to fall in love with all of their children. I have nieces and nephews that I love dearly, but I’m also an “Auntie” in several other households. I’m known as Aunt Cookie, Crispy, Auntie Chrissykins and Auntie Nasty. My husband even acquired the nickname, Uncle Cupcake this summer. I’ve been able to watch these kids grow up without the cloud of jealousy due to infertility. I didn’t have to back away from being a part of those growing families because I had just had a miscarriage or another failed embryo transfer. Those things didn’t start to happen until after my friends had their babies and for that, I am grateful.

I’m thankful that even though I’m doing this so late, those same friends are there to support me in my struggle. They are there to offer me words of encouragement when I can’t take the emotional pain anymore. They are understanding and allow me to follow my own path. They are compassionate. At this point in life, my good friends have had the life experiences to know what words to say or how to offer sympathy and kindness.  They have the strength to feel my grief with me.

While I never expected to wait so long to have kids of my own, I have had a journey that has changed my life. It has taught me how to survive deep emotional pain and grief and allowed me to support others in their journey as well. Through all the heartache, it has taught me that hope and faith still do exist. I haven’t given up yet. I’m still waiting for my baby…but oh, does it feel like the longest wait ever.

October: Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month

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I’ve been wanting to participate somehow in “Pregnancy Loss and Awareness Month” on my blog but the reminders of it all are putting me at a loss for words.  Seeing more posts on social media about Pregnancy and Infant Loss is comforting and painful at the same time.

It seems impossible to find the words to express how much I miss and love the babies that I lost during pregnancy.  And for those of you who have experienced it too, you have my deepest sympathy.  We are connected in our grief and our recovery.  We understand each other.  We are not alone.

In loving memory of our baby boy Jaxon, and our twin girls who were not named.  Thank you for the love that you gave me that grows stronger with every beat of my heart.

Photo by CJ

Angel Baby Keepsake

IMG_7003Having gone through the heartbreaking experience of two miscarriages (15 weeks and 9 weeks), I wanted to create something for other women experiencing this type of grief and loss.  The words “Miscarriage” and  “Pregnancy Loss” do not equate to the trauma experienced.   At any stage of pregnancy, we have already become parents.  We have fallen deeply in love with our unborn child.  We have experienced hopes and dreams and ideas about what this baby will be like, how our lives will change, and the future we see for ourselves as a family.  It is a loss that stings so deeply and it is a grief that some may never find peace with.  It is a loss that many people do not talk about, but so many experience.

IMG_7009While first trimester miscarriage is common, there are those that have lost their baby during the second trimester.  There are those trying to pull their lives back together after a stillbirth.  I simply can’t imagine a pain so deep that would accompany these tragic losses.  But those going through this heartache need love, support and acknowledgement of their grief and their baby who’s life was so terribly short.

IMG_7013But what do you say to someone who has experienced the loss of their pregnancy?  The loss of their baby?  For those of us who have had this experience, we are left with a loss that has nothing tangible to hold on to.  We rely on the memory of the feeling of pregnancy and the bond and love that so quickly developed.  There may be ultrasound images that we can save but are now so hard to look at.  If you have not been through this type of loss, you may not know what to say or how to help.  But here are some do’s and don’ts that I have found helpful and that I hear repeated in the community of women that have experienced miscarriage:

  • Please acknowledge our loss.  Don’t pretend like it didn’t happen.
  • We are grieving deeply.  There is no quick recovery.
  • If I’ve named my baby, it feels good to me to hear his name.  To recognize that his life was real, that he is my son, and that I became a mother.
  • It’s ok to acknowledge our loss on Mother’s Day or Father’s Day to let us know you are thinking of us and know that we are heartbroken that our baby is not here.
  • Know that important dates are traumatic:  the planned due date, the anniversary of the loss, the date we found out we were pregnant.
  • Be aware that for those dealing with infertility and experiencing the miracle of pregnancy through medical intervention, the loss is terrifying.  We are not sure if we can ever get pregnant again.
  • Don’t say things like, “It was God’s Will”, or “It was not meant to be”.
  • Do not assume there must have been something wrong with the baby.  (All three of my angel babies were genetically normal).
  • Do not insinuate that the mother and/or father did something wrong or that it was their fault.
  • Recognize that the person grieving may not be able to attend baby showers, or visit a friend or family member who recently had a baby.  Give space without pressure or expectations in these situations.

IMG_7019In order to help those witnessing a loved one who is experiencing grief after the loss of their baby, I’ve created a gift that can be given to the woman or the parents of the unborn child.  If you do not know what to say, this gift will provide the acknowledgement of the loss while also providing something for them to hold on to.  I have created a hand made Angel Baby Keepsake gift box and card.

IMG_7021The outside of the gift box includes an ivory satin ribbon and silver angel charm.  Inside the box, is a card decorated to hold their baby in memory and love.  Included is a poem and pewter heart.  The box can be further customized by the parents to add items such as an ultrasound image or to write notes to the baby or to add little items in memory of him or her.

To order:  Visit my Etsy shop

Card Chic by CJ