Everyone has a story, a past, an event that has shaped them in some way.  Today I am sharing my story.  I use this tiny corner of the internet to share fun style tips and moments of my life as mom and usually do it with an armful of positivity.  Well, motherhood is not always pretty and perfect.  It can be so hard, and that is okay.

  Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day; a day that I wish I didn’t know existed.  I am sharing my story with you because I know this journey is one that, unfortunately, many mothers take and it is one that can leave you feeling so alone.  If that is you, I send you all my love.  Know that you will smile again;  you can find joy afterwards;  there is hope for the future.

You’ll never know how much we wanted you…

The first words my husband told me that he wished our little girl could hear, and the words that I will never forget.

Pregnancy is full of emotions. From the moment you find out that your family is about to expand the overwhelming sense of love, excitement, fear, responsibility, happiness, and nervousness fill your life. Is it a boy or a girl? Will she be blonde? Will she have brown eyes? Will she be outgoing like her big sister? Will I have enough love in my heart for both of them? Am I crazy thinking I can take care of two kinds under the age of 2? How much is daycare for two kids going to cost?

Between all the crazy emotions you quickly start to imagine your life with that child. You picture them playing with their big sister, secretly hoping that they will be best friends. You make plans to take them to Disney world, or think about what kind of sports you will put them in. Very rarely does the thought cross your mind that you may never get to answer those questions or see those dreams you had for your child come true.

Working at a children’s hospital, I was always very aware of how challenging a perfect, healthy pregnancy could actually be. I, however, had an amazing and easy first pregnancy with Harper. I always assumed the second time around would be just the same, except for maybe a little morning sickness here and there – and I was right! From the day we found out that we would be having a second child I felt great! I had one day of morning sickness (crazy, I know!) and was able to stay very active. I knew what to expect this time and I waited patiently for those flutters, which quickly turned into such strong kicks! This little one was SO active I couldn’t help but giggle every time I felt a knee or elbow jab me.

I always loved being pregnant. It was such an empowering feeling – I honestly felt like superwoman! The idea that a tiny human was growing inside of me was so amazing. My husband and I would both laugh when I had to give myself a push-start to get off the couch, or when it would take what felt like a 6-point turn to roll over in bed. But it all made me so happy.

There are so many milestones during pregnancy. Most people wait until they are 12 weeks to announce their big news to friends and family. At 14 weeks you get to hear baby’s heart beat. At 20 weeks you are half way there, get to see your little one on an ultrasound, and can find out if baby is a boy or a girl! Hitting each milestone is reassurance that your baby is healthy. Hitting each milestone is a memory that you never forget and is a moment in which your connection with that tiny little human grows.

At 21 weeks, we announced to our friends that Harper was going to be a big sister! We had just had our first ultrasound where we saw our little babe kicking around and waving, and I had a belly that no longer looked like I just ate an extra cheeseburger. We were on a high. When we got an envelope with the results back from our ultrasound we started planning a gender reveal party!
At 23 weeks we had a bunch of our friends over and watched as pink balloons popped out of giant box. I was so convinced that this baby was a boy, but to find out that we were having a second girl made me even more happy! Another little girl that I can dress up with cute headbands and matching mommy and me outfits. A little girl that my oldest daughter, Harper, could become best friends with. A little girl that I could watch Harper teach all her crazy dance moves to. A little girl that I could play dress up and have tea parties with. A little girl who would melt my heart by being such a daddy’s girl.

I never would have thought that, exactly one week after our party, my life would be turned upside down.

As a mom, your job is to provide a safe home for your baby to grow. You fill your body with all the proper vitamins, watch the food you eat, and adjust your lifestyle to make sure that you are giving that baby the best possible home for those nine months. With that responsibility you gain this amazing connection. They are a part of you. You feel them move. You know them so well without even meeting them… So when you suddenly realize that your extremely active baby has been kind of quiet for a day, you instantly worry. Thinking back to when exactly you felt them last, you try to sit and drink ice cold water – maybe that will get them going! When that doesn’t work, you try going for a walk. Then you sit down and eat spicy Thai food, which you KNOW always gets them dancing. But when all of that doesn’t seem to work, you panic thinking of all the things that might be wrong.

On Sunday, June 5th, Corey and I hopped into the car to take a quick visit to the IWK maternity hospital. I felt like something wasn’t quite right, but told myself that I was just being a paranoid pregnant lady and that the doctor was going to take out the doppler, we would hear the heart beat, and we would be on our way to enjoy the rest of our sunny day. I was never so unprepared in my life to hear those words from the doctor – “I am quite worried, I don’t see a heart beat”.

In that moment my heat shattered. All those questions I had about what our little girl would be like would never be answered. All those hopes and dreams I had for my daughter and my family would never come true. I instantly felt empty.

Being a health care provider, I always say that I have two sides of my brain – the medical side and the emotional side. In that moment, the medical side of my brain took over. As we went for a second ultrasound by a specialist I found myself strangely comforted knowing that there was no obvious cause for her tiny heart to stop beating…but then again I felt so confused and sad knowing that there was so reason for this all. I wanted to know the details and to know what we had to do next.

I knew that, at 24 weeks, our baby was substantial in size and was considered “viable”in any other circumstance. That meant that this was not considered a miscarriage, but was considered a stillbirth. That also meant that I had to go through the full delivery process. A delivery process that I remembered as being hard and painful, but rewarding when they placed Harper in my arms. This time I was going to have to go through the physical labour and pain, but would go home with empty arms.

Throughout the evening people came into our room with stacks of paperwork to fill out and vial after vial of blood to take for tests. At 24 weeks gestation, your baby is considered a person. That means that if your baby is stillborn, they need funeral arrangements. How were we sitting in a hospital room talking to a stranger about funeral arrangements for a baby that was still inside of me and that we hadn’t even met? How was I to decide what kind of autopsy I would like for my unborn baby? How did I decide if the names we were talking about just the other night are the names that we want to appear on the birth and death certificates of our baby?

It is a surreal thing to go through, yet I remember every moment so clearly. At about midnight, when I started to feel the contractions, the emotional side of my brain took over and I suddenly realized what I was going to have to do. I broke down in tears and told Corey that I didn’t want to do this and just wanted to go home. I honestly felt like I just couldn’t survive that moment.  To say that I married the most amazing, compassionate, and encouraging man is an understatement. To know that his heart was breaking too, but that he was there beside me, telling me that we can do this and that we can get through anything together is how I made it through that day.

The morning of June 6th, 2016, our daughter was born. It was a quiet room, filled only with tears and broken hearts. We didn’t see her or hold her, which was a decision that I spent a lot of time regretting and feeling shameful for.  What kind of mother doesn’t hold her child? I have since let go of that regret because Corey and I made a promise to each other. This was our story and we would not regret any decision that we made because we made them together in order to get through to the next moment or decision we had to face. We will never forget that morning, but we wanted our biggest memory to be about the celebration of our daughters life and the exciting moments we had with her; the first time we heard her heartbeat, the first kick, the first time we saw her wiggling around on the ultrasound…

No one can prepare you for such a moment in your life.  It is so overwhelming to wrap your head around the decisions you have to make and the new club of grieving parents that you have just been automatically enrolled in.

Leaving the hospital that evening was horrible. My body was in it’s post-partum pain, my eyes were numb and glossy from tears, and I was exhausted from all the physical and emotional stress I had endured during the last 24 hours. The most painful part of leaving was going down the hall with our bags packed and nothing in my arms. There is nothing to prepare you for that moment and it feels so unnatural to leave a building knowing you have left your baby, that until only 48 hours ago you were dreaming of meeting, behind.

As we turned the corner to reach the elevator, there was a sign on an office door. It read “It is just a bad day, not a bad life”. I don’t know who’s office that belonged to, but to this day I thank them! Feeling so hopeless and empty, those words carried a glimmer of hope that we could make it through this. I tried my best to hang on to those words. I knew that there were so many things in my life that I had to be thankful for and I did not want this experience to let me forget any of that. But in that moment there was nothing I wanted more than to just have my daughter in my arms. To take her home and live the life I had spent so many months imagining.

To say that the next few days and weeks were challenging is an understatement. Grief is a funny thing and there is no handbook on how to go through it. On top of that, grieving someone that you never even really met is a lot to wrap your head around. There were days that I just wanted to stay in bed. Days where I wanted to smash every dish in my cupboards. Days where I would finally get up to get dressed only to collapse on my closet floor in tears.  Days where I stayed inside my house just to avoid seeing anyone in the odd chance that I would run into someone who did not know what happened and have to explain why I no longer have a growing belly or why I am not at work on a Wednesday morning. Days where I would have a normal morning and even laugh, and then immediately feel guilty that I wasn’t crying.  I honestly thought that I was going crazy because the person I was in those weeks was so far from the person I used to be.  I didn’t recognize all these emotions and feelings and I couldn’t just pack them up and put them away.  I no longer trusted my body and dealt with months of anxiety with every headache or pain.  My body failed me to keep my growing baby safe and healthy with no logical explanation.

It has taken time and lots of work to get through the grief, although the sadness will never really go away.  I have learned that the best thing you can do is acknowledge your feelings, whatever they may be.  It is okay to be sad, to feel lost, to feel empty.  Acknowledge those feelings, sit with them for a moment, don’t bury them away.  Let them move you and teach you.  Then rise.

Losing a child is so unbelievably painful.  It is a feeling that many people cannot understand, even more so when you are grieving someone who you never technically met.  Talking about them often brings on tears, but it is such a comfort to have someone acknowledge your child’s life because it is something that you will never forget.  There are no words to explain how much I want my baby back. To feel those kicks. To have her take over my whole belly, knowing that she is growing so strong. To have her here with me, living this crazy life. There is nothing I can do to bring her back, but I try everyday to see the gifts that my precious daughter has brought me. And there are so many!

I wrote this story out in the months after our loss.  I was inspired to Choose Joy.  To find the beauty in the pain.  To soak up every ounce of love and goodness in my life through my family and friends.  I would not be where I am today if it was not for her.  She has taught me to love harder, to show up through the pain, to give myself grave and to be brave.

This journey has taught me to love myself and to surround myself with an amazing tribe – I have gone on to create this tiny space on the web and shared it with you, who are part of my special tribe.  This is my story and I will not let it define me by holding me back, but will allow it to fuel me to do amazing things.

xo
Katrina Gwen Rose

If you or someone you know is going through a pregnancy loss, I am here for you with open arms and a heart full of love.  It takes a village to raise a family and to overcome losing part of one.

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