Facts of My New Life
1. I will never be the same. Do not be alarmed or worried when I’m not acting myself. That person I was is gone. That person was a woman with a 4 year old and a baby growing inside of her. Now, I am a woman who has explained to a 4 year old that he will not meet his baby sister on this earth and had my baby die inside of me. I may be happy, smiling and acting “normal” but it’s not the Mary I was before. Things change us, and this experience has changed me forever. If the Lord ever blesses me again with another sweet baby; it won’t be the care-free pregnancy I had before; it will be the longest and scariest 9 months. I’m now labeled “high-risk”
2. I will never get over it or move on. I hear songs and see quotes that say “hold on because difficult times end and the pain passes.” The pain and heartache of losing a child is completely different than any other difficult time. Every loss is terrible and difficult, but the pain of losing a child is not to be compared to any other loss. When someone’s child dies, hopes and dreams die. You will never see that child grow, change and make a difference in the world on their own. You lose the future, not a past. You never know the nightmare someone is living until you live in it yourself. I am now that sensitive activist when it comes to abortion and pregnancy jokes. There is a special type of pain that comes with losing a child, you just make room for it and take it in as it comes; it never will go away.
3. I will have mood swings and be an emotional mess. The emotions come in waves. One day I will be ok and the next, I will not want to get out of bed and participate in life. One day I will want to talk and the next, I will not want to speak a word to anyone. One day I will not cry a tear and the next, I will cry the whole entire day. I find myself day dreaming about being hugely pregnant, getting ready for her arrival and seeing her and my son together. Then, like a ton of bricks, reality literally knocks the breath out of me.
4. My life is now categorized into “before and after”. When I think about events that have happened in my life, my mind automatically puts it into a timeline. It’s before her death and after her death. The things that happened before her death are now painful; Christmas, New Years, my son’s birthday, anything. It’s one of these: I wasn’t pregnant with her yet, I was pregnant with her, or I lost her.
5. Her death isn’t a taboo. It’s not a secret or something I should be ashamed of. There needs to be more awareness when it comes to miscarriages, stillborns and infant loss. It’s real, it happens more than I ever thought.
6. She will never, ever be replaced. I have had those comments “Well, you can try again” or “at least you have your son”. That’s not something a woman who has just lost her child wants to hear. She wasn’t a lottery ticket or a pet; she was my baby. And to the second comment: if you are a mother of multiple children: think of which child you could live without. I may be blessed with a “rainbow baby” one day and in no way, shape or form with that baby replace Maelie.
7. I will always talk about her. There’s this quote: “When a baby is born, it’s the mothers instinct to protect that baby. When a baby dies, it’s the mothers instinct to protect their memory". Her memory is all I have. I wont be able to post a million selfies with her or share her new “outfit of the day”. Instead, I will share pictures of the new flowers I put on her grave. Yes, its depressing but please know that you can hide my posts or delete me from your social media account; but I’ll never apologize for sharing my daughter. To others, please bring her up to me: yep, I’ll be sad and maybe cry but to know that my daughter isn’t forgotten is more important.
8. Let me grieve. As selfish as this sounds: it’s not about you. Yes, everyone in the family and circle of friends will grieve and have every right to do so; but please don’t forget that no one, not even the father knows the pain a mother feels when her child dies, especially when the child dies during pregnancy. I was the only person who held Maelie while she was alive and moving. I did everything humanly possible to protect her and get her here safely. I connected with her on a level no one else had; she was in my womb, I felt every movement, every pain from her. My mother had to go to the ER one night after I had lost Maelie and I wasn’t aware of this, when I asked her why she didn’t tell me she said “you just lost your baby, I was not going to text you and have your attention away from grieving her”. <<<< that right there, is exactly how a mother should love her child and how someone should let a mother grieve. If a grieving mother is not friendly all the time or has her days where she secludes herself; just let it happen and let her know you are there for her whenever she wants you, and until then, let her be.
LOVE to you all. Embrace life, embrace the pain and let it change you; but don’t let it defeat you
