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Briana
Mother of Sarraine Adaire Huffman
09-12-2018
Las Vegas, NV
 
It was Sunday, February 18 2018. I found out that my boyfriend and I, after 8 years together, were expecting our first baby. We were of course very excited. We both wanted a boy but just couldn’t wait to find out who our little bean would grow up to be. April 16th we had our ultrasound done and off we went to our gender reveal. Our close friend set everything up for us and my boyfriend shot at a little box and there it was, pink powder everywhere. A girl! My beautiful baby girl. I was excited, I get to play dress up again! My pregnancy was great, except for the gestational diabetes. We had monitoring twice a week at a high risk center. Everything was looking good, her heart rate was always so great. She was active, my little kicker. We had an ultrasound on a Tuesday and monitoring again on Thursday. As always everything was fine. So I thought.

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Piper

Mom to Twins, Addie, Avery, and Viola

Miscarried in 2008, Stillborn December 3, 2012, Miscarried in 2013, and Stillborn May 19, 2018

Dallas Forth Worth, Texas

When I was around seven or eight, my parents got divorced. We stayed with my Dad, while my Mom packed herself up and moved into a tiny apartment about ten miles down the road. That ten miles may as well have been another state. We rarely got to see her, and when we did, I had no idea when or if we were ever going to see her again.

Ah, the joys of being an overly anxious child-right?

It was at that young age I began to learn that some people are more ‘maternal’ than others. The nurturing, cuddling, dinner-making Momma was not what my little brother and I had. There’s no doubt she loves us deeply- she just doesn’t know that type of empathy. Our mother showed her love in mainly material things, and thank God she did- she was our only source of clothing. Our father suffered from severe depression and anxiety, so our shopping times with Mom were always a welcome escape.

We watched a lot of movies, and inevitably saw the stereotypical, more ‘maternal’ moms- tying shoes, forehead kisses, and blankets tucked tight. These families had connections with one another that I craved…this was the type of Mom I knew I wanted to be. A baby-snuggling, snot-wiping, lullaby-singing, booboo-kissing Mom. Unfortunately, my journey into motherhood hasn’t quite been what I’d imagined.

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http://facesofloss.com/2018/10/8746.html

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La’Porchia
Mom to Jyson
June 15, 2018
Rock Hill, South Carolina

Being a mother is a role that you simply have to experience to truly know what it is like. There is nothing anyone can prepare you for or help you relate to. Although the road has been quite bumpy, being a mother is one of my greatest joys. My name is La’Porchia. I am 31 years old and I am a mother of two. My daughter is 11 and my son is 5. We reside in Rock Hill, South Carolina. After I gave birth to my son, I was not jumping at the chance to have more children as he is very active and drives me nuts with his never-ending energy.

So, when my fiancé, June, and I found out we were expecting again, shocked is an understatement of how we felt. We were in the middle of wedding planning and had to push the date back as a result of the pregnancy. Everything was happening so fast around me. I was nearly finished with the first semester of my senior year in college and most days, I didn’t know if I was coming or going. Nevertheless, we were excited about the baby. This pregnancy was very rough for me. I found myself vomiting every other day. No matter the dish, it seemed it made me sick which caused me not to gain much weight.

I had my first high blood pressure reading in 31 years during my 37-week appointment. I think it was in the 160 range. The doctor sent me to labor and delivery at the hospital to monitor my blood pressure. They monitored me for 2 hours. Before I was sent home, I was given a jug with the instructions to place all of my urine over the next 24 hours in the jug. This was to ensure there was no protein in my urine. The results showed my urine had no protein. When I reached my 38-week mark, I was OVER being pregnant but anxious to meet my little one. We had finally decided to name him Jyson Louis Davis.

I had my 38-week appointment and my pre-op appointment on the same day. I had a scheduled c-section for the following Thursday. At this appointment, they checked the baby’s heartbeat and my blood pressure and everything was great! So…how is it that the very next day, I am at the hospital and the nurses are telling me that they can’t find my baby’s heartbeat. At first, I thought it was Jyson being stubborn but I soon learned that something was very wrong. The pain that I thought were contractions were just my body telling me that something was wrong. As my fears turned into tears, all I heard was apologies from the nurse.

At this point, I can hardly control my crying because I am nearly sobbing. I am then told that my blood pressure has skyrocketed and they are rushing me into emergency surgery. I cannot begin to explain the emptiness and sadness that I felt when the doctor confirmed that Jyson did not survive. He was 6 lbs 8 oz and did I mention he was gorgeous? He was. Everything about him was perfect. My placenta ruptured. Supposedly, it was preeclampsia. Just like that, he was gone. The date and time of death was Friday, June 15, 2018 at 10:35 pm.

How could I not know that something was wrong? How could the doctors not detect preeclampsia during the numerous doctor’s visits? How is it fair that God allows so many unfit parents to continue to bear children but He took our son away? How could everything be great yesterday and be snatched away in an instant today? I had so many questions and not enough answers. As I held him, I felt so empty. It seemed I had run out of tears in that moment. I felt sad for my children who were anxious to have a little brother to play with. I felt sad for June because I know he was just as devastated as I was. I felt sad for my family who was so excited about the new addition to our family.

Meanwhile, I am told that I almost died along with my son and I am baffled of how could all of this be happening without any warning signs. Whether I chose to accept it or not, my son was dead and we were forced to pick up the pieces of our lives that weren’t scattered about and live. Even with the love and support of others, I found myself crying some nights when everyone had gone home and there was nothing left to deal with but the pain in my heart. I was so angry!! It seems that since Jyson’s passing, I hear good news concerning babies or see so many baby-related ads and it makes me sad. A very good friend of mine had her baby the day after I was supposed to have Jyson and I saw it on social media. Seeing that cut me so deep because I felt robbed. I texted her and congratulated her while my eyes were filled with tears and my heart was filled with pain. It is so hard seeing someone love on their little one when yours has been taken away.

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Kerry
Mom to Oliver
April 6, 2018
Syracuse, New York
 I am 36 years old and met my husband almost 5 years ago.  We were married June 23, 2017 at the most beautiful wedding we could have imagined.  We were married on Cayuga Lake in Upstate New York, where we’ve lived all of our lives, surrounded by family and friends.  Steve is three years older than I am.  We knew we wanted to try to become pregnant right away and were so excited to start a family.  It worked!  We considered ourselves incredibly lucky and couldn’t believe that we became pregnant on the first month of trying.  I had a positive pregnancy test on August 17, 2017 and texted my husband at work “Steve. Steve. Steve! Can I call you?!?!”  He called me right back and I told him the news.  We were shocked and excited.  It’s so odd that although we were actively attempting to get pregnant, we were still so surprised by the result!  Neither of us has ever been married nor do we have any other children, this was our first.  We are each the “baby” of our families, we each have siblings who have children themselves, so we know what it is to be surrounded by kids – our nieces and nephews.  We heard (too often) from our families, that we should hurry up and have kids.  I’m not sure we could’ve went any faster. ha.

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http://facesofloss.com/2018/05/8630.html

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Trista

Mom to Audrina Marie

March 23, 2018

Rice, Minnesota

On November 24th, 2017, I found out my ultimate dream was coming true. In April, Aaron and I would welcome a daughter into our family. I can’t describe in words the joy I felt in that moment the ultrasound tech told me it was a girl. A thousand dreams flooded my mind…. little girl dresses, tea time and tiaras, tutu’s, pig tails, ponies, ballet slippers, mother daughter excursions like baking or going to the craft fair the list just goes on. The next day which happened to be Thanksgiving, I woke up feeling extra blessed. We were so excited to share the amazing news with our family on such a fitting day. The next week or so we spent living on cloud nine while imagining how our lives would soon change as we welcomed our daughter, Audrina Marie into the world.

Monday, December 4th, it all came crashing down on us. My level two ultrasound revealed a few markers for skeletal dysplasia. The ultrasound tech said, “it looks like a lethal type of dwarfism.” I jumped out of my skin and into shock. This can’t be real, I’m in a nightmare and I just need to wake up. I can’t even process the information. Doctors refer us to specialists at Abbott Northwest to get a second opinion. We stayed hopeful for two days and then our hearts dropped after meeting with specialists in the cities. Doctors seemed to confirm what St. Cloud had found and suggested we do an amniocentesis. We moved forward quickly hoping to get some answers.

The next month was an emotional roller-coaster from hell. We remained hopeful that Audrina would prove the Doctors wrong. We prayed, oh god did we ever pray. I tried to keep the faith and imagine her with us despite what the experts were saying. Our faith train fizzled out after receiving the most heartbreaking news with the genetic counselor at Abbott Northwest. The results from our amniocentesis came back positive identifying the FGFR3 genetic mutation code consistent with the diagnosis for Thanatophoric Dysplasia. Our worst nightmare.

The condition would mean our baby girl would likely die of respiratory failure at birth. Even now after months of processing and grieving, I still cry at the thought of meeting her and feeling so helpless knowing I have to let her go. I know the next few months are going to be tough, and even harder after we have to say goodbye. Right now, all I can do is enjoy her kicking inside me, and love her while she is here with me. Inside there, she is safe, loved and free of all harm. She is a blessing regardless of the situation I face. Even though it would be so easy to be angry with God, I can only thank him for giving me a daughter. Audrina Marie, my angel baby. My dream really did come true, just in a different way. We will still love her for a lifetime. Even though her time here on earth will be short, our love for her will be eternal. [Read more…]

http://facesofloss.com/2018/05/8625.html

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Elizabeth
Mom to Grace Anne
 
February 25, 2018
Rocky Point, Long Island, New York

Life is made up of a bunch of fleeting moments. Some you catch hold of and can fully enjoy. Some fly by so fast they are a blur in your memory. Then there are the ones that change your life forever. These, I guess, you would call turning points. These moment change the direction you thought you were going, for good, bad or indifferent. Some of these moments come about on purpose, like getting married. Some happen as rights of passage, like graduation. Others happen, as a cruel act of fate. Our family recently suffered from one of these moments. It’s a moment in time where literally everything froze and then broke into thousands of little fragments. Shards of a direction that we wanted to travel, shards of a memory we wanted to embrace, shards of a life that was taken before it was given. 

February 5, 2018 will forever be our baby girl, Grace Anne’s day. I was 28 weeks and 6 days pregnant with our second little girl. Everything was going according to plan with our pregnancy. Two weeks prior we had heard a strong happy heart beat, I was sluggish and starting to swell but felt fine, and Grace was giving me little kicks here and there. We had been renovating the bedroom that would be Grace’s and our daughter Madelynn was super excited to be getting a baby sister to play with, feed, and teach things too. Our little family was growing by one more set of little feet and we were all anticipating her arrival, in May. Little did we know our world was going to change so quickly and devastatingly. 

February 21st, a 60-degree Wednesday, I took Maddie for a play date at the park with a few of her friends. I wasn’t super energetic and my ankles were still swollen, but I chalked it up to 6 busy work days as a server. I just needed rest. I went home that night and did just that. Put my feet up and rested on the couch. Thursday came and went without much to note. Friday and Saturday I was back at work. It wasn’t overly busy but I was moving. When I got home Saturday night I was pretty swollen in my legs and ankles and super tired. I had noticed that in the busyness of work I really hadn’t taken a second to feel Grace moving. So when I sat down I had some soda and ice cream to see if I could get her going. It was the first time that week that I, not only got a little time to think of just her but I panicked inside a little. I calmed myself down and told my husband I felt we should call the doctor Sunday morning. That phone call was the beginning of the end. Those days, looking back, should have been noticed by me more. I should have paid more attention to my sweet baby Grace. I should have felt my body wasn’t supporting her. I should have called sooner. I should have…

Sunday morning, woke up feeling better. I wasn’t swollen and had more energy. I put off calling the doctor because I felt good. Maddie had a birthday party and I had a baby shower to attend. Half way through the shower it hit me, I swelled up, I felt tired, and Grace hadn’t moved. I called my husband, who called the doctor, and I raced home. Still not thinking anything bad had happened to Grace, but felt like I might need to be monitored. I didn’t know why or what was wrong. I was just off. We left my 4-year old with my mom and went to the hospital. 

The first nurse came in with the fetal Doppler machine. She was talking with us about how I was feeling, so I didn’t even noticed she was having trouble finding the heartbeat. She excused herself and went to get the sonogram machine and the doctor.  The doctor started to poke around looking for the heartbeat. She had a small tight expression on her face, like she didn’t believe the picture. This is when time stopped ticking, voices became jumbled, faces a blur, and my whole world fragmented around me. I can vividly see the sonogram in my head, even though I never saw it. I can vividly see my husbands broken heart and face of disbelieve. I can vividly see every persons saddened face. Then she spoke the words, “I can’t find a heartbeat, I’m sorry, your baby is no longer with us.”

The sound of those words were like thousands of windows breaking at once. It was deafening and so lonely. I instantly felt isolated, empty, and alone. My husband was there, we were holding each other sobbing, the nurses and doctors were there, but my little angel was gone. The minutes after hearing those words were probably the longest in my life. I felt like I was having an out of body experience. Trying to wrap my head around my baby no longer breathing. I thought of a million questions. How long was she like that? Was she in pain? Why? What happened? Why did my body fail her? Why did I fail her? And then reality hit again, she had to come out, how was she going to come out? 

I felt like everything was in slow motion. Nurses and doctors coming in, moving us to a delivery room, calling our parents and siblings, it all seemed to be moving so slow around us. Our nurse, Jess, she stayed with us the whole night. She was supposed to leave but she didn’t and I was so thankful, I needed her. She kept me focused, helped explain decisions we had to make, and just helped me deal with everything I was going through. She contacted my actual doctor, Doctor W, because she knew I would feel better if my doctor could be there. Doctor W had just come home from a vacation with her family, but she drove right to the hospital to be by my side. She and Jess walked us through some tough decisions. We had to decide between labor or c-section, but since Grace was breached, the doctor was afraid of complications during delivery. So we went with c-section. We had to decide on an autopsy or not. How she would be buried? Or cremated. When and where? So many decisions that a mother and father should never have to face? I was shaking uncontrollably. My blood pressures were so high, I couldn’t stop crying and my head was just a mess. Nothing made sense. I was asking again, Why did this happen to my sweet baby? How did I not know? Then it was time, I was being walked down to the OR. This was it, my baby was coming out and I would never hear her cry.

Dr. W and Jess literally held my shoulders while I sat to get the spinal before the surgery. They worked together in the operating room to get baby Grace out as quick and smooth as possible. During the procedure my blood pressure sky rocketed. I was given some magnesium to control it. Jess stood by my husband and I trying to keep us both calm. Once Grace was out Jess asked me if I wanted to see her, I was so broken I just couldn’t bare the thought of seeing her. She took baby Grace and my husband to another room so he could be with Grace and came back to me. She told me how beautiful she is, with blond hair and the cutest little nose. Jess eased me into thinking of how I needed to see my baby, hold her, smell her, remember her. When I was stitched up and moved into another room I realized how much my heart ached to see my little girl. I needed to hold her. My husband brought her over to me. I held my beautiful baby girl for hours. I snuggled her, my husband changed her and took her foot print, we kissed her, watched tv with her, talked to her about her big sister Madelynn, had a priest come in to bless her and took pictures of her throughout the night. She was so perfect. Her nose and the swirl in her blond hair were exactly like Madelynn’s. Her tiny hands had little nails, she had the lightest eyelashes and eye brows and the smallest little pink lips. I will never forget her beautiful face, her smell and the feel of her in my arms. These are the best worst moments of my life. 

Several hours later the nurses came in and asked if we were ready to have Grace go her new room and us to my room. I broke. I realized Grace would be alone, in a cold dark drawer somewhere. She would be alone… For six months her and I were never alone. I couldn’t handle thinking of her without me and me without her. I begged the nurse to make sure she had warm clothes, a blanket and a little piggy toy they gave us.  They promised they would and even took pictures of her with the piggy for us. We were sent to the post-pardum floor and given a room at the end with a butterfly on the name plate. The butterfly symbolized to the staff that we had a “fetal demise.” I was grateful for the butterfly as the staff that came in and out were very careful with how and what they said, but I was so angry that we had a butterfly. I wanted Grace.

Hours ticked by, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I was in pain, I couldn’t think clearly and my blood pressures were still out of control. I was going nuts sitting in the hospital without having my baby to hold, feed, and snuggle. Again, nurses, doctors, family and friends floated in and out of our room. Everything is a haze. No ones words made sense to me, I couldn’t focus. I was empty and broken. Finally, I was able to be released from the hospital. I was so happy to get out of there, but leaving was horrendous. Everything crashed down on me again. My baby was being left behind. I was being wheeled out without the excitement of bringing home our new baby. As we rolled past other rooms, hearing the sounds of happy families, I got angry. I forced my husband to let me walk out instead of being wheeled. I cried as we walked past the baby balloons. I cried as we walked past the expectant grandparents and friends. I cried as I got in the car with no new bundle of joy. I cried as we drove away and I thought of Grace alone. I was hallow. I am still. I’m just an empty body moving through my days, pushing past my grief and guilt to make sure my 4 year old still has a present mommy, my husband has a present wife, and my family and friends have a present me. But in all reality, I’m a shell. I constantly think “what if?” I’m filled with guilt over so much, not knowing she wasn’t ok in my belly, making silly statements like “I can’t wait until she’s out so I can feel like me again,” or “I can’t believe we’ve decided to go back to sleepless nights and diapers.” I would give anything to have my swollen ankles and big belly back. I’d give anything to be up all night because of feedings and diaper changes.  I’d give anything to have a rewind of the past month so I could fix everything. Instead I’m up all night because of guilt and overwhelming sadness. My body has begun to return to pre-pregnancy but I don’t feel like me. I’m not. I’m a fragment of myself. I lost a part of me. A part that grew in me for 6months, that I will never get back. I feel so lonely and empty. I feel like I’m in a fog, a nightmare that I’m begging to wake up from but never come out of. Some days are better than others, where the darkness isn’t so blinding, but I won’t ever be whole again, or feel “normal” again. This is my new “normal.”

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http://facesofloss.com/2018/05/8602.html

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Rebecca

Mom to Callan

May 9, 2017

San Francisco, California

http://facesofloss.com/2017/12/8595.html

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Debbie

Mom to Addy

August 11, 2017

Eau Claire, Wisconsin

​​My husband, Matt, and I found out we were pregnant right after the New Year this past January. We were thrilled, as were our families. We’ve been together a decade, and this was the first grandchild on both sides.

We had what everyone thought was a very normal, healthy pregnancy, regular check-ups included. We had an appointment on a Friday in August, and everything was normal as usual. Then, that following Wednesday, I had terrible stomach pains and left work early. We wondered if it was early labor at first (because she was our first, I wasn’t sure what it was supposed to feel like), but it was constant and pretty unbearable. I remember thinking it couldn’t be normal because I had a month to go and it hurt too much to be something livable for another entire month (I was 35/36 weeks), so I went in to the hospital. And that’s how we found ourselves watching our baby girl on the ultrasound machine, no movement, no sound. [Read more…]

http://facesofloss.com/2017/12/8589.html

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Chelsea

Mom to Avie Lee

August 19, 2017

Bristol, Tennessee

My husband Alex and I have been married for over 3 years. We found out in December 2016 that we were expecting our first child. I have three generations of miscarriage on my side of the family, so needless to say during the entire first trimester, we were on our toes. It went perfect, and we found out that we were expecting a little girl to be named Avie Lee Elizabeth.

Our entire pregnancy went perfect, we never had any issues whatsoever. My husband is 6’5″ and the doctors told us that we were going to have a big girl. At our 32 week checkup Avie Lee was measuring in the 97th percentile so they wanted to keep a close eye on her growth for the rest of the pregnancy. They had us come back 4 weeks later for a repeat ultrasound on August 16th 2017 to recheck her growth; they were planning on an early induction if she was still measuring that big. On that day she was phenomenal, curling her toes, and rolling her tongue. Alex and I were thrilled because we knew in a month or less we would have our daughter in our arms. Little did we know that day was the last day we would see our daughter alive.

I woke up on Friday morning, August 18th and was getting ready for work as planned, and I wasn’t feeling any movements from the baby. I shook my belly and did everything to try to get some movement from her. I called my doctor immediately and went in first thing that morning. I remember the ultrasound tech snapping 3 pictures and told me they were going to get the nurse practitioner. My husband and I burst into tears. We knew that something was very wrong. She came in and said Avie Lee was gone. I was 37 weeks pregnant when she passed away.

I was sent over to the hospital to be induced immediately. After over 12 hours of labor on August 19, 2017 at 2:57 a.m., Avie Lee Elizabeth was born weighing 7 lbs. 4 oz. and 20.5 inches long. She was absolutely perfect in every way possible. She had the most perfect heart shaped lips, auburn hair, and huge feet like her daddy. We spent as much time with her as we could but sadly her little body deteriorated very quickly. She is buried about 5 minutes from our home so we go visit her often. We still to this day have no answers as to what happened to our little girl; there was no explanation. I still don’t understand how I could have had the most perfect pregnancy and still lose my baby girl 3 weeks before she was supposed to be born. She is our world and we love her more than she could ever imagine. We know she is in heaven and we never have to worry about if she is safe. Somehow, I guess the Lord needed her more than we did. [Read more…]

http://facesofloss.com/2017/12/8584.html

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Amanda

Mom to Landon Ross

June 19, 2017

Olympia, Washington

I am 29 years old and my fiance and I got pregnant in January 2017 and we were over the moon excited and beyond happy to be finally having a baby and growing our family. At the time I got pregnant, we lived in Montana so for a bit of my pregnancy we lived there and then in April we moved back to WA state where my mom lived.

We found out after moving back [that] our baby was a boy so we named him Landon Ross. During my pregnancy he was measuring small and I had IUGR. He ended up having fluid around his heart and so I was referred to see Maternal Fetal Medicine and from there I had to get an amniocenteses test done. They thought he was going to have Down Syndrome but the test came back [that] he didn’t have it.

Things were going well but on June 16th I wasn’t feeling very well so I took a nap and woke up and I still wasn’t feeling well. We used my home doppler test to find the heart beat and we couldn’t, so then we went to the hospital and they couldn’t find the heartbeat [either].

We returned home that night and processed everything. I was to return Monday Morning at 7 a.m  to be induced, but Sunday night my body was already starting to have contractions, so we went to the hospital. I was having small contractions so they gave me some medicine and I fell asleep. In the morning, they induced me and I had him at like 5:56 and he weighed 1 pound and he was so adorable.

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http://facesofloss.com/2017/10/8562.html

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Jeanine

Mom to Diana Hope

June 13, 2017

West Babylon, New York

I want to tell you all a story about a girl named Diana.

I delivered my stillborn beautiful baby girl, Diana Hope on June 13, 2017 at 8:10 pm. She was 4 lbs, 1 oz, 18 inches long. She had dark hair and eyes, just like her dad, Gaetano. He says she looked like me and that makes me happy. [Read more…]

http://facesofloss.com/2017/09/8536.html

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Jessi

Mom to Olivia Lynn

April 23, 2017

Cape Coral, Florida

Olivia was our first child. It took us over a year to get pregnant with her. We were seeing a fertility specialist and everything came out negative except for that I had several fibroids. He had actually told me that was probably why I hadn’t gotten pregnant but he could not be sure, but that this could cause me to lose a baby if I got pregnant. He recommended I have a big surgery similar to a c-section to have them removed. He told us not to get pregnant. Well, we stopped trying and got pregnant. He followed us with ultrasounds until my first OB appointment.

Fast forward, the pregnancy was completely normal. I felt great during it. We found out her gender at 19 weeks and everything was normal, although we didn’t get a picture of her face because she was facing my back. We couldn’t see her heart either. The next week or so I started cramping, which they said was normal. They said it was ligament pain or me working too hard (I’m a nurse). They decided to bring me in to check it out. I felt her kick for the first time the night before my appointment and I was so excited it was more than [just] flutters. I also had my home doppler and listened to her that night too. I was leaving and I told me husband to stay home because It was a simple appointment.

When I went in the doctor’s office, they had the doppler out and searched and said, “Huh, she must just be laying in a funny position.” I then texted my husband to come up to the office. The OB then took me over to the ultrasound room and looked and was so confused. He kept saying, “This just doesn’t happen. You’re so far along and this is so rare.” He apologized to me and told me he couldn’t find a heartbeat and wanted me to go into the ultrasound tech’s room. She pulled me in and we could see our little one on the screen but there was no noise and no flickering of a heartbeat. She asked if my husband was coming. I told her he was. She had me stand up and apologized and let me cry on her shoulder.

I was brought back to the exam room. I called my mom on her cell phone (she’s a teacher) and I told her, and she left school to meet me up there. I immediately felt numb and like everything I had pictured and planned came crashing to a halt. My husband arrived and I just cried and tried to explain. Both of us were in such shock. My mom then arrived and hugged both of us. I lost it even more. The OB then came in to give me my options of what the next steps were, and that we could wait a few days if we wanted. I didn’t really know what to say other than I couldn’t have her stay In my belly any longer.

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http://facesofloss.com/2017/07/8503.html

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Yolandé

Mom to Ivy Kathryn

June 1, 2017

South Africa

I had visited my cousin’s for the weekend. I came back on the Monday. The Tuesday I noticed she wasn’t moving and told my midwife that I hadn’t felt her or rather can’t remember when last I felt her. I had started before then to do a kicking chart and did it that night also, as my midwife instructed. I did everything. Drank juice, lied down on my left side. I rested. I moved, tried to feel her, talked to her. Deep down I knew something was wrong. I made an appointment with my general practitioner who I’ve come to trust although I planned on doing water birth with a midwife.

My partner did not go in with me. I later saw messages on his phone that he told his mother that he was so stressed for the doctor’s appointment but that he chose to not go in with me and should it not be good news, he wouldn’t know how to deal with it. It’s these little details one never forgets. The image of her in my womb, dead. Lifeless, my body had failed me. How she felt when she died. Did she feel? These thoughts haunt me, daily. 

During my pregnancy, I was fairly stressed. The worry of another child, how we must prepare, how we must prepare our 16-month-old baby boy for his sister got to me and my relationship. Still, my partner stayed. I try to believe and accept that it wasn’t her time and that it is not my fault. Heaven needs her more.

I went into the doctor’s room. I started the consultation by asking the doctor for something for depression or something to calm my nerves and broke down, as I have always felt ashamed to ask for help, emotionally. As if this makes me a weaker person. He said [it was] no problem and then I mentioned that why I was actually there was because I couldn’t remember when I last felt her moving. It did not quite register that there was no heartbeat and that he was looking at my placenta and that there was a tear right there. I was waiting for him to tell me everything is fine, just take it easy and go home, start your anti-depressants. Ivy is fine.

[Read more…]

http://facesofloss.com/2017/06/8496.html

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Jenny

Mom to Baby R and River Beth

December 28, 2015 and December 22, 2016

Spokane, Washington

We were so excited to finally be pregnant after almost 6 months of trying. It was November 27, 2015, the day after Thanksgiving, when that pregnancy test showed a positive line. I blurted it out to my best friend because I couldn’t hold the excitement. My mother-in-law met me at my office and I gave her a card that had the news on it. I had been planning the announcements for months, waiting for that positive test. We drove to Babies R Us so that I could find the perfect onesie to announce to my husband that we were finally going to have a baby.

Our first ultrasound at 6 weeks was perfect. We told my sister-in-law, the grandparents, the cousins and some of our friends. We celebrated Christmas full of glee and opened presents for Baby R.

At 8 weeks, 3 days after Christmas, my in-laws went with us to the ultrasound. I will never forget the words, “I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat.”

That was the first time our world was shattered. My doctor ran dozens of tests. We already knew I had endometriosis, a bicornuate uterus, and low progesterone. What we didn’t know was that my endometriosis was stage 3 and everywhere. Or to the extent my uterus was bicornuate. With my bleeding disorder I couldn’t miscarry at home due to risk of bleeding out. The D&C was scheduled for three days after the news of losing our first child.

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http://facesofloss.com/2017/04/8447.html

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Kelly Kittel

Mom to Noah Patrick, Jonah Emmanuel and 6 Siblings

May 18, 1996 – August 10, 1997 and May 14, 1998

Portsmouth, Rhode Island

Andy kissed me awake early. I drew in my breath, realizing my contractions were getting more uncomfortable. “I hope these are working,” I said. “That nurse better check my dilation today, or you’ll have to.”

“Gladly,” he said, grinning.

Easing out of bed, I followed him to the kitchen. After months of bed rest, waiting and worrying, I was ready to have this baby. “Have a great day,” I said, kissing Hannah and Christiana. “Maybe today we’ll have a baby.” For the first time in ages, I watched them skip off to school. The sun reflected off their blond hair and the dew in the grass, the spring air sparkling with new growth and possibility.

Andy and I headed back down the hall—I to shower, he to dress Micah—and soon I heard them arguing. “Pleeeeze, you only have to wear them for an hour.” Micah skipped in, dressed in the corduroy pants he hated. “See, Mom? They swish when I move. Are you coming to my music?”

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http://facesofloss.com/2017/04/8433.html

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Eunah

Mom to Victoria 

December 6, 2016

Toronto, Ontario

I write to my dad, my friend, my sister to share my submission. I want their reaction, I want their input. I know it may impede me from going it my own way but that gives me reassurance that someone else I trust knows what I’m up to. Not even my husband knows what I am doing. That I’m writing a story about us and not a happy story but a sad and honest story. Well this one I decide will turn happy in the end. That’s how we all must think right? The good attitude that we tell all children to have in order to live happily.

http://facesofloss.com/2017/01/8407.html

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Charissa

Mom to Finn Liam

January 24, 2016

Gardner, Kansas

Two years after we initially started trying, we wondered if we would ever be able to have a second child. In June 2015, we went on vacation to the Smoky mountains and visited Dollywood. After riding a triple inversion roller coaster, I felt very off, which was unusual for me because I usually handle roller coasters very well. The next day I took a test and was thrilled to see two lines — I was finally pregnant with our second child! My pregnancy progressed smoothly and uneventfully, and our 18-week sonogram revealed a healthy baby who danced his little legs around and showed off for us. We learned our baby was a boy. Over the next few months, we painted his room and re-assembled the crib. As his due date of February 27th drew closer, I unpacked the baby gear and folded the newborn clothes neatly in his closet, including a couple of “Little Brother” sleepers I had picked out just for him. I packed a hospital bag with a newborn-sized coming home outfit. I unpacked and washed the infant car seat and ordered diapers online. We were so ready and excited to meet our baby!

On the morning of January 23rd, I didn’t wake up until it was almost time to leave for my hair appointment. I was exhausted as I had been fighting a cold and sinus infection all week. It didn’t seem like my baby had been very active that morning, but then again I hadn’t been awake very long and thought I might have just missed his activity. He was usually most active at night around bedtime. I had an anterior placenta, so it was often difficult to notice his movements unless I was paying attention. I didn’t feel him as distinctly as I had with my first child, Jaxton.

After my hair appointment, I still wasn’t feeling much, so I went home determined to monitor his movements. At home I glided the home doppler over my belly. Immediately, the sound of his strong heartbeat met my ears and I relaxed a bit. Maybe he was just having a slow day or in a different position than usual. Lying on my side in bed, I attempted to count his movements. I tried shaking my belly to get a reaction. I was getting barely anything. I decided to go eat and drink some sugary juice to see if that would perk him up. As I ate, I noticed his feet were poking out in their usual spot at the top of my belly. We often played a game in which he would poke out his feet and I would push back in on them and he would react by pushing back or moving them. On that night, his feet seemed to be pressing out with more force and they remained that way despite me pushing on them.

At that point, I was getting really worried. I checked the doppler again and his heart still sounded strong. I sat in a chair with my 3 year old son Jaxton on my lap while he was watching YouTube videos. In retrospect he should have been in bed, but I was too worried about the situation at hand to go through our bedtime routine. Usually when Jaxton would sit on my lap and lean against my belly, the baby would squirm or kick in response. My husband Phillip and I always joked it was sibling rivalry starting early. That night, there were no kicks or squirms. I thought I felt a shifting inside of me. I grabbed my doppler, hurriedly rubbed coconut oil on my belly to help it glide, and listened again. Nothing but the sounds of my own body met my ears. At that moment, I truly understood the meaning of deafening silence. My heart raced as I searched and searched, hoping and praying that he was just hiding or that my doppler wasn’t working correctly. I frantically told Phillip we needed to go to the hospital right away. We grabbed our coats, bundled up our son, and rushed out the door. I didn’t say a word the whole way there; I just prayed to God to please let my baby be ok.

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http://facesofloss.com/2017/01/8404.html

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Catherine

Mom to Iris Jayne

East Yorkshire, England

June 1, 2016

On June the 1st my only daughter, my second child was stillborn. Before, this my life was easy; nothing bad happened to me. I’d heard about stillbirth, but it wouldn’t happen to me. I was naive and pregnancy was innocent. It happened to the girl down the street, a friend of a friend, someone you knew of but never spoke to. Then on the 31st of May 7, hours after my ‘perfect’ 40 week appointment, I was in a hospital room being told my baby girl had died. I was now that girl. I was a part of the club no one wants to be a part of, the mother of a child that didn’t make it, a child that died. I remember thinking over and over, “this doesn’t happen to me, it’s a nightmare. I’ll wake up.” It wasn’t, my life had changed in 7 hours. I’d gone from the top of the world to the bottom of the ocean. I was drowning.

Nothing feels real when you are told your baby is dead. There’s no heart beat, nothing. A still frame on the ultrasound. This doesn’t happen to me, they must be wrong, I kept holding that. I was given a pill and sent home, they told me to go back when labour had started. I didn’t cry, it didn’t sink in. I was home with my baby in my tummy. If she was gone, why would they leave me like this. It wasn’t until the contractions started that I knew it was happening, the tears started. I would have to give birth to a baby I’d never take home and never see again. This was all we were going to have, And it was the least I could do for her.

I didn’t know whether I wanted to see and hold her straight away, not because I didn’t want her, but because I was scared. I didn’t know what to expect. But it all changed when she was about to be born.

Before I made my last push, the last moment of carrying her inside me, I begged them to give her straight to me, the mother’s instinct took over and I needed her. She was mine, my baby, my daughter and I loved her no matter what. Iris Jayne was born sleeping at 18:01 pm weighing 8lb 14 1/2 oz on the 1/6/2016, her due date. She was beautiful and perfect. She looked just like her big brother and had his head full of hair except hers was a little lighter. Nothing was wrong with her. A true knot in the cord was the cause of death. We spent that night and the whole next day with her, just me, my partner and Iris. People came to see her and to say goodbye, then we had to do the same.

No midnight feeds, no baby smell, no crying or teething, no first day of school, no university, no wedding. No living daughter. My family has a hole that will never by filled. Life isn’t easy, it’s hard. I’m not the same, I’ll never be the same. Its not a nightmare, it’s real and it happened.

You can email Catherine at cat.rennerz@gmail.com.

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http://facesofloss.com/2016/09/8353.html

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Teri

Mom to Mason

Liverpool, United Kingdom

March 16, 2015

[Story Begins]
September 2014

I can’t even begin to describe the feeling I had when seeing my “positive” pregnancy test.

I was living with my parents at the time so immediately called for my Mum who was completely over the moon. I then took a picture of the test and sent it to my boyfriend who was in work at the time. He came to me as soon as he could. We were both incredibly excited and decided to go to the doctor so the pregnancy could be officially confirmed.

We arranged an appointment for that day. After taking another test at the GP surgery we were told that the results were negative and it just wasn’t our time. We were gutted, the excitement taken away from us so quickly. It’s surreal how a faulty pregnancy test can make you feel, missing something that you never actually had. Fortunately for us my doctor had made a mistake and around twenty positive tests later and an ultrasound, there he was, a little blur on a scan picture, my little blur, my Mason.

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http://facesofloss.com/2016/09/8344.html

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Leah
Mom to Lyla
December 4, 2015
Elgin, Illinois

My beautiful Lyla Danielle was born December 4, 2015 at 4:48pm weighing in at a whole whopping 4.12lbs. She was the prettiest baby I’d ever seen, she was the only one of my children with my curls and she was still so perfect even though she was stillborn. This is her story: 

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http://facesofloss.com/2016/08/8315.html

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