It’s been over a year since I held my sweet, stillborn daughter- Harper Jane. My heart and my arms still ache for her each day. And as I suffer in this valley I have found myself in, I look around and realize I am not alone. There are so many others suffering from miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant loss all around me. They’re all around you, too. 

Today I want to share ten unknowns about stillbirth in hopes of educating others. It is more than just the tragedy of birthing and holding your child’s lifeless body. It is a tragedy that affects every second of your life afterwards. 

______________________________________________

1: PHYSICAL ACHE

Birthing a dead baby comes with the same physical challenges as birthing a live one does. I still labored. I still felt the pain of contractions. I still received an epidural. I still had to push. I still tore. I still had afterbirth pains. I still had to recover physically and my hair still fell out at around 3 months postpartum. 

2: CABBAGE LEAVES

Your body still produces milk- even when your baby isn’t alive to drink it. As I held Harper’s body that day, my nurses explained to me how my milk would still come in over the next few days. They recommended I wear tight sports bras with cabbage leaves inside to dry up my milk. As if I wasn’t hurting enough emotionally, now I had the constant physical reminder that I should have a baby to be feeding right now. Nursing is something I had done with my boys and was such a sweet time of bonding that I never got to experience with Harper. And let me tell you- hot, sweaty, wilting cabbage in your bra smells AWFUL.

3: THE LONG JOURNEY HOME

The trip home from the hospital started with the devastating wheelchair ride from our hospital room to our car with empty arms. Eric and I decided to leave in the middle of the night- mostly because I couldn’t stand to be there overnight and also because I wanted to avoid the crowds of people. No adorable newborn strapped securely in her car seat or swaddled snugly in my arms. Just emptiness and sadness and tears. Eric didn’t have to drive the car slowly and carefully home because we didn’t have a new life in the backseat. It was quiet and dark and lonely. 

4: FUNERAL HUGS

Harper’s funeral was held on a Friday, just a few days after her birth on a Tuesday and right around the time my breasts started to fill with the milk that would never nourish my daughter. It was a rough day, for obvious reasons, but was made even more painful by the ache of my milk coming in. If you’re a mom- you get it. After the funeral service, we hugged each and every sweet, sweet person who came to honor Harper’s life. I was incredibly grateful to each of them and cherished each moment, but with each hug... I ached. 

5: SLEEPLESS NIGHTS

Even when you don’t bring home a baby, you still experience sleepless nights. You aren’t woken by the cries of your baby, but you wish you were. You aren’t up to change yet another dirty diaper, but you wish you were. You aren’t jolted awake every so often to make sure that your baby is still breathing, but you so desperately wish that you were. You are kept up throughout the night with these deep thoughts of grief and heartache.

6: UNPACKING

Walking into your home with an empty car seat and diaper bag full of items unused is the reality of every stillbirth mother. Harper’s diaper bag sat for several weeks, untouched, until I finally worked up the strength to unpack it. With each item I pulled out, I fell deeper into my grief and the reality that I wasn’t getting to raise my baby girl.

7: HOSPITAL SURVEY

Believe it or not, our hospital actually called us to see how our visit was and asked if we would like to complete a survey for the hospital. No...just no. 

8: POSTPARTUM CHECK-UP

6 weeks after delivering Harper, I went back to my OB’s office for my postpartum checkup-talk about PTSD. It was so hard to be in the same building, office, room where I was throughout Harper’s pregnancy...including the ending when her heartbeat couldn’t be found (READ MORE HERE).  I walked through the front door just praying that the receptionist wouldn’t ask me how my baby was doing. She handed me the depression survey so my doctor would know if I had postpartum depression (eye roll). I sat in the waiting room with other pregnant women and couldn’t help but wonder if their babies were going to die too. The nurse walked me back to the room as tears streamed down my face. She took my weight and blood pressure-which was clearly through the roof. When my doctor came in we talked about what had happened to Harper, the chances of it reoccurring, and if we could start trying for another. As we were checking out, another mother with her newborn, alive, baby was in front of us. The nurses kept cooing at her and saying how beautiful she was. I wished that they could have met Harper. Would they have thought she was beautiful? 

9: POSTPARTUM BODY

After a stillbirth, your body still looks and feels the same as it would during a live birth… only you don’t have your baby. I lived in fear for the first couple of months after having Harper. Fear that someone I knew would see me and ask where the baby was (this actually happened once). Fear that someone I didn’t know would ask how far along I was. Fear that my body would always bear the scar of what had happened to me. Fear. 

10: SLEEPING BABIES

I will never look at a sleeping baby the same way again. I used to love watching my babies sleep. They looked so peaceful to me. No crying, whining, asking me 100 questions. Just pure peacefulness. But after holding my daughter so lifeless and still, it will never be the same. My mind will start to race with panic as I look for signs of life… the sound of breathing, a twitch, or the faintest rise and fall of their chests. Sleeping babies with always bring me right back to that moment of holding Harper in that hospital bed.