No matter how they died, losing a baby sucks. It really does.
Here’s what else has the potential to suck after your baby dies.
1. Baby shower invites.
2. Social media.
3. Playgrounds.
4. Small talk.
5. Commercials for pregnancy tests.
6. Crying in the grocery store.
7. Crying at work.
8. Crying in your car.
9. All the crying.
10. When friends text you.
11. When friends don’t text you.
12. Anxiety.
13. Hearing babies cry.
14. Hearing babies laugh.
15. Leaving the house.
16. Holidays.
17. Putting on “real” clothes.
18. When people say the wrong thing.
19. When people say nothing.
20. When people say the right thing but it upsets you anyway.
21. The baby department.
22. Doctor’s offices.
23. Pregnant women.
24. Pretending to be happy for pregnant women.
25. Feeling guilty about not being able to be happy for pregnant women.
26. When people ask how many kids you have.
27. When people assume you don’t want kids because you don’t have any.
28. Being a little bit sad even when you’re really happy.
29. Never really knowing what is going to upset you.
30. Getting your period.
31. The nightmares of what happened.
32. The daydreams of what could have been.
33. Sex.
34. Looking at yourself in the mirror.
35. Feeling unsure of where you fit in.
36. Visiting your baby’s headstone.
37. Storing your baby’s ashes.
38. Not having a headstone or ashes.
39. When you start to become accustomed to the heartache.
40. Spending your time reading lists like this.
What would you add to the list? Share in the comments.
Photo by Ashley Walker on Unsplash
You’ve captured the heartache of loss and waiting so well. One more list item for me: Sitting next to a pregnant person at work for 40 hours a week. Her pregnancy is just six weeks ahead of what mine could’ve, should’ve, would’ve been. #pityparty
I’m sorry you have a reason to relate, but I’m glad you know you’re not alone in this. Throw as many pity parties as you want, I would come to every single one. <3
All of that. I was just thinking that I don’t know what to talk about with people. I feel I don’t fit anywhere and I am just the one who would ruin the party so better not to go anywhere.
The isolation is so difficult. Losing a child and/or dealing with pregnancy loss can make you feel so untethered. Sending love your way. <3
Baby room and baby stuff…sitting empty…not used. Do you get rid of it, because it was made for your specific child. If you have another child that takes over whats meant for your baby you lost you just dont feel right. You start over. Getting flyers in the mail about baby products, or email with excitement news, this is where you should be in you pregnancy, or baby growth. It all just sucks!!!
IT ALL JUST SUCKS. You’re exactly right. Trying to figure out what to do with all of the baby stuff is agony. And don’t even get me started on the promotions and flyers.
Add the following;
41) trying to unsubscribe from all the pregnancy tracking websites and apps.
42) trying to cancel and/or dodge packages in the mail of items you bought for this baby.
43) having family ignore you for almost 2 months because they don’t know what to say, how to handle any of it, or how to be empathetic or compassionate. (I don’t either, try googling something…. like I did.)
44) finding out one sister-in-law got pregnant at the same time and her due date is 3 days after yours was.
45) she gives birth to her baby on what was my due date. Trying desperately not to bawl while walking into or out of the maternity ward that day with empty arms.
46) hearing another pregnant sister-in-law tell you that if you went to church and were closer to god, he’d bless us with a family.
47) be told repeatedly that everything happens for a reason. That something was wrong.
48) that we should “just” foster or adopt. (News flash – it is not solely the responsibility of the infertile to foster and/or adopt all the kids!) That we are selfish for wanting a genetic child of our own.
49) being told that I should be done grieving and move on already.
50) the guilt and sadness that hits when someone you know joins this unwanted sorority. The anger when they get all the support that you didn’t. The jealousy when they get meal trains and support and you feel like you are standing shoved off to the side waving your arms saying hey what about me? I’m going through this too? Am I really that horrible of a person? That undeserving of a little kindness?
Anyone else find any of these familiar? Or is it just me?
Yes, yes, yes. The 40 items on my list were just the beginning. I’m thinking of making this a series. I feel like it could be at least 250 parts.
When friends that have 2 kids complain that it’s so hard. And you wish to God you were in their shoes! They have no idea how it hurts you to hear them complain.
It’s like a knife to the heart. How I wish I was dealing with the “troubles” of having multiple children. Instead, we are dealing with the hardship of mothering children who will never be in our arms. <3
Your sister still being pregnant and getting to deliver a healthy baby. People asking you when you’re due while you’re walking around with a dead baby inside you. Coming home from the hospital without your baby. Your aching arms longing to hold your baby. People telling you it’s ok you can have another baby. People asking you how many children you have.
I can relate to all of these. I especially struggle when people would tell me that at least I knew I could get pregnant. Someone I knew once told me (because she knew about my two miscarriages before my daughter was stillborn) that I almost made it. Maybe next time! Seriously?!?!?! There is so much hurt after all the hurt. <3
More things that suck:
1. Seeing women who are pregnant and appear as far along as I should have been.
2. Seeing families and wondering how many babies aren’t with them.
3. Hearing babies cry.
4. Waking up.
5. Going to bed.
6. When I have to think about how to tell people that she’s not with us.
7. Her not being with us.
8. Going back to the doctor’s office.
9. Taking birth control.
10. Thinking about another first trimester.
11. Having to talk to a therapist about her instead of being at home getting to know her.
12. When people ask “What’s wrong?”
13. Not being able to control my urge to cry.
14. Caring about controlling my urge to cry.
15. Social media.
16. Not being able to care about dumb things on social media.
17. Seeing baby girls.
18. Everything.
My best friend and I found out we are both pregnant around the same time. My baby died around 9 weeks. Seeing her tummy grow but not mine sucks. Seeing her get her baby’s stuff ready sucks. Planning and hosting her baby shower sucks. Knowing that June is around the corner and I will have to be happy for her, as she welcomes her baby into the world, and my due date will pass with no baby in sight…Sucks! Missing my baby every second of every day sucks. Me not having the ability to put my pain in to beautiful words sucks.
I’m so sorry for the loss of your baby. I’m sorry you are experiencing the added pain of having the experience and being involved in the baby shower for someone else. It all just sucks. It doesn’t matter what words you use, it’s just important that you keep sharing. <3
All of these…and so many more. They tend to continue to add as the days,months and years go by as well. My losses were 14 yrs ago and 6 yrs ago…everyday I wonder what it would be like to have girls those ages…girls at all. Mother daughter days that I will never get to have. Wishing that my boys had sisters in their lives…not just a cemetery plot. It all just really sucks!!
I can relate to each item listed above. And I will say that, 6 long years and one sweet and healthy rainbow baby later, I still really hate to be around pregnant ladies, and I still really struggle with all the things that totally suck about losing my girl at 26 weeks. But ladies, there is JOY in your baby (babies)! You did not lose them. The hope of heaven tells us that our babies are ours, from now until forever after. I love to dream about the day I meet my girl in heaven. I love to share my girl and her story with anyone who will listen. Because, I prayed for her. I prayed that God would use her to knit my family ever more tightly together. And that is exactly what He did. Not my way, but His, and bless Him, that He showed me how He was was so good and so right for me and for my husband and for my older daughter. Through our loss, we gained wisdom and glimpses of God. Our faith was strengthened and our family, including our angel, was knit tightly together. Nothing, not even sucky sadness, can take that away. To God be the Glory.
Hearing story after story of healthy baby deliveries. Honestly, can’t women talk about something else?
I love this. My one thing I would add is trying not to snap on pregnant women who are complaining about the gender of their baby. I work with several women that are pregnant or who have been pregnant since I lost my son. They don’t think about it and and inconsiderate of my feelings. They have openly complained about having “another boy” or “another girl”. Really. I would give anything just to have another baby. I would give anything to have my baby back. And you are complaining about having your fifth boy.
This. This. All of this. Plus so much more. Having people constantly judge you, because 7 years and 1 rainbow baby, you are “over” it. I still wonder what her personality would be like. Also, the feeling that my family will never be complete here on Earth. The heartbreak every single time someone else joins this awful club of hurting parents.