Karla’s Story – Baby Loss Awareness Week

This week is always a week that for some who have lost children dread and for some they embrace. For anyone that has lost a child, we don’t need a week to remember, as it is something that we carry every single day.

I can only tell my story, as anyone that has been through this will tell you, we all deal with it very differently.

I was admitted to hospital on 1^st June 2019 to be induced, excited I was finally going to meet my little man. We had been there all of half an hour before the bottom of my world was ripped away.

I will never forget the look on the doctor’s face when she told me there was no heartbeat. We were quickly moved from the ward to a private room where again another scan was carried out and it was confirmed my baby had passed away. He had only been wriggling around that morning.

The next couple of days go by in what can only be described as a haze. Doctors, nurses, healthcare assistants coming and going, medication being given, I still can’t tell you what it was all for. What I can tell you is the compassion and sympathy we received was fabulous from all involved in our care.

We were given endless leaflets, spoken to by a bereavement midwife, (she was beyond fabulous) and a lady that dealt with post mortems. It did seem as though, everyone that came in our room was passing us leaflets. I was still in a daze thinking I came in to finally meet my little man and now I’m talking post mortems, funeral arrangements, it just wasn’t real.

My other half was my rock during all of this, going back to the house to remove the cot, the rocker, the Moses basket, etc, I still don’t know how he managed this on his own.

After giving birth to my son and naming him, it all suddenly became reality, and at that moment, I thought how on earth am I going to get through this? I didn’t want to see people, including my family, I didn’t want to talk to anyone, but I didn’t want to be alone either.

We made sure the funeral was for our little man, not a chance for everyone to come along and show support, although I know they wanted to, but it was for us, it was personal.

The days and months pass by and you really do just take one day at a time. There is no time limit on grief and there is no time limit saying when you will be ready to face the world again.

The day the results of the post mortem came through the letterbox was a day I had been dreading. What if it said this happened because of something I had done?  How on earth would I live with myself then?

We had been warned to expect no answers and that’s exactly what we got. There was no definitive reason for my baby dying. I had done nothing wrong, and there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent it.

So here I was with no baby and no explanation as to why, for me that was tough, I always want to know why.

The leaflets I mentioned earlier, were for all kinds of charities that help bereaved parents, from counselling to memory boxes. I remember one of the midwives passing me a teddy bear and at first I thought, is this some kind of joke? I’m supposed to be cuddling my newborn and this is a consolation prize?  Oh how wrong I was.

How little I knew then that this bear would become my lifeline, my arms were literally aching and this bear was all I could hold, but it helped. These bears are all donated by families that have lost babies and each one comes with a card with that child’s name on. I took great comfort in holding this bear and still do if I’m honest.

You see, when you lose a child, you become a part of an elite group that you don’t want to be part of but you are and there is nothing you can do about it.

The next biggest hurdle is getting back to some kind of normality.  While you’re at home you can tell yourself “I’m ok”, but having to go back to what you were doing before maternity, before your world stopped turning is scary! Having to face all those people that you know are excited to see you but also worried about how you might be.

My first day back at work was a day I really wasn’t looking forward to, I didn’t want to see the pitying looks, I didn’t want people asking me how I was. I just wanted to slink back in as if nothing had happened and I had never been away.

I am so lucky to have a supportive boss, supportive friends and work colleagues, and yes – there were the odd few that really didn’t know what to say to me and didn’t want to even look at me, and that was ok too.

I’ve been asked time and time again if I attended counselling. My answer is no, I’m not good at talking about feelings, I never know what to say. At no point did I feel I needed it. What I am good at is ranting, and to have colleagues and family and friends that you can just rant to is worth more for me than any counselling sessions.

To have people that you can just vent to, get everything out, it doesn’t even need to make sense, your true friends will understand what you’re doing.

I’m not saying counselling is a waste of time, what I’m saying is you do you. This is your story and you need to do whatever you need to do to get through each day.

A lot of people have said I’m strong, I’m brave. I’m not either of these things, I’m simply a woman who lost a child and couldn’t give up. What choice is there? Give up completely or face it.  I chose to face it.

If you are struggling with baby loss, there are so many resources out there that can and will help. You have all the leaflets, use them if you need to. Hug that teddy bear, but most importantly talk when you need to. Say your baby’s name with pride and most importantly, give yourself a break. This isn’t something that you will get over, but you will get through it.

Baby Loss Awareness Alliance

Here is a list of useful links for anyone who needs information, support and direct contact details.

If you need urgent support, advice or medical care, contact your GP.