Mothering From Afar: My Story of Second Trimester Loss
The month of June will mark the first anniversary of losing our baby boy, Joseph.
Even being in the middle of it, it’s hard to know what language to use…first birthday, first anniversary? Because my baby boy died before he was born. The first year has gone so quickly, it all still feels so new to me.
Our battle with infertility had spanned over 9 years, experiencing a missed miscarriage in 2018, and having a full-term pregnancy in 2021 when my baby girl was born.
This time last year I was on cloud 9, after our long battle with infertility and subsequently secondary infertility. I was pregnant after a frozen embryo transfer. I had a scan at around 17 weeks and was told I had a very active baby. No problems detected.
Our baby was below 1st percentile.
I continued to feel movements, my bump was growing.
We attended our 20-week scan on the 14th June and received a bolt out of the blue. Our baby was below 1st percentile. We would need referral to fetal medicine. And just like that I felt as though a trap door had opened and my heart fell to the ground.
We saw fetal medicine the following week, and although our baby wasn’t growing, and amniotic fluid was low, we somehow remained hopeful that we would find a cause and turn it around. But a week later, at 22 weeks we returned for a monitoring scan and found out our baby had no heartbeat.
I was given medication to start induction process and was sent home, to return the next day for admission.
Leaving the hospital without him is the worst pain I have ever endured.
What followed was a relatively straightforward labour and Joseph was born at 1.30am 30/06/2024. It’s hard to put into words, but I was grateful for this. It felt like an opportunity to be able to physically mother my son. We were able to spend the day with him, cuddling, dressing him and making memories. We were offered the opportunity to stay for longer but I knew this would only make things harder.
Leaving the hospital without him is the worst pain I have ever endured.
We planned his funeral and celebrated the day with our nearest and dearest.
The months that have followed have felt like a haze.
Life has returned to “normal”…but how can it possibly ever be normal again?
What has made it harder to process, is that our loss has barely been spoken of since. I’m not sure if this is because people feel uncomfortable or they assume I won’t want to talk about it, but how else can I keep Joseph’s memory alive? This is the only way I get to mother him now, by telling his story and by showing him my love from afar.
I am still very much learning to navigate how to move forwards and how to be the best mother to Joseph. I have taken opportunities to fundraise for charities that have supported us, and have signed up to support with research where I can.
Thank you to The Worst Girl Gang Ever Foundation for giving us the opportunity to share our stories and to speak our babies’ names. This enables us to honour their lives, and to know that we are not alone.
