Several weeks ago, I asked my friends and family if they had any questions for loss parents like myself. I also reached out to a few friends that have also lost babies, and asked if they would contribute to this post. Just like everyone handles different situations differently, loss parents aren’t a “one size fits all” group either. We all think, feel, and grieve different.
You know my story…I have two babies in heaven. Ruby was with us for 2 days before she was called home and her brother, Jack, was stillborn at 32 weeks a little more than a year later. I share my grief journey openly and I try my best to help other families like my own.
I’ve asked two friends to introduce themselves as well. First up, my friend Ashley…
Hello, My name is Ashley Pike and I am a survivor of stillbirth. I was 20 years old when I found out I was pregnant. Kyle and I were excited but also very scared because we were not married yet and he was still in college at GA Tech in Atlanta. Everything at first was going great. The baby was looking good and growing properly. One weekend when I was about 16 weeks pregnant, I was visiting kyle at college when my water broke. I was admitted into Piedmont Hospital in ATL. That weekend was very rough and eye opening. We found out we were having a boy there. We found out Conor was going to be born paralyzed there. We found out that I had to be put on strict bed rest until 20 weeks and then be admitted into the hospital for the rest of my pregnancy to receive fluids and steroids for baby’s growth. The bed rest was very hard because it was a lot of time to think negative and sad thoughts about what will happen to Connor. I went to my OBGYN on Monday November 25th for a checkup since I was going to be admitted that week and we found out the worst news. Connor was gone. I was blessed to have had my mom there with me or I would have been a bigger mess than I already was. I had to call Kyle who was at college. That was the hardest part because when he answered the phone I remember him being so happy and in a good mood. David Connor Pike was born on November 25, 2013 weighing exactly one pound and 20 inches long. We were only able to have two hours with him after his death…that is not enough time. The next year and a half was going to be one of the hardest emotional years I have ever experienced. Six months after Connors death I had to have heart surgery and almost died twice. I was in the ICU for a while and remember waking up very confused. During this time in my life, I was very angry, bitter, sad, confused, and just didn’t know how to feel. It took a lot of soul searching, seeking council from wiser Christian woman, and counseling to really start to heal and be able to function in real life again. This November 2020 will mark his 7th birthday. Sometimes I cant believe its been seven years while other times I feel like it was just yesterday. I still cry over his death A LOT. I think about him almost every day. I visit his grave often and as much as I can. I am not very open with people about his death unless I am talking to someone I trust or another bereaved mother. I cant talk about his death openly because it still causing me to have those unwanted feelings. Sometimes I feel guilty for not using his death to help others, but at the same time I feel God thinks its ok that I didn’t do that. I never felt “called” to do something like that. I do commend those mothers who have reached so many people of the loss of their precious babies.
Second, I’d like to introduce my friend, Erin.
Erin Maroon is Founder and President of Ashlie’s Embrace, a 501(c)3 organization based in North Canton, Ohio. Ashlie’s Embrace was started after the sudden, full-term loss of Erin and her husband’s first child, Ashlie. At 41 weeks and one day, Erin went to a routine doctor appointment and was told Ashlie was healthy and ready for induction the following week. That evening, Erin felt one large kick followed by no movement. After rushing to the hospital, Erin and Anthony learned Ashlie had no heartbeat. Their entire experience was rushed, confusing and filled
with grief, emotion and exhaustion. In total, the Maroons spent less than one hour with Ashlie.
After their tragic loss, Erin read an online article about stillbirth and it referenced a CuddleCot TM, a device that keeps a baby cool (instead of frozen or at room temperature) and allows parents hours or even days longer with their child to say goodbye. The cooling units are used extensively in the United Kingdom but are relatively new to the United States. It made Erin angry it hadn’t been an option for her and her husband. The more she thought about the little time they had with Ashlie, the more upset she became. The United States is one of the most advanced nations in the world, but there is nothing advanced about the amount of time they spent with their first child. Erin realized it was up to her to make sure every U.S. hospital, birthing center and NICU has a CuddleCot TM. Each year about 24,000 babies are stillborn in the United States. Parents will, unfortunately endure the same tragedy, but when they are faced with whether to hold their child for hours on end or say goodbye immediately, they can have choices—choices that were not available for the Maroons, and many other families experiencing the same loss.
I’ll be sharing our answers to the questions that were presented to me. We hope it can help someone now or int the future…
Q: As a nurse, what could I do/say to assist parents, siblings and families during this time?
Kendall: After day following Ruby’s birth, the nurse who’d check us in was assigned to me. The hours we spent in the hospital with Ruby, were rough. We were given conflicting information from those trying to spare our feelings and we were also having to fight for information because no one was really telling us anything. Kim, my nurse, advocated for me. I hadn’t been able to see Ruby because of a medication I was on for seizures and they were getting ready to transfer her to Augusta. Kim made sure I saw my daughter before they took her. Kim also got me discharged in about 10 minutes so that I could get to Augusta to be with her and my husband. On top of all of it, I have pictures of Ruby and I BECAUSE OF Kim. I was in shock. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do or how I was supposed to feel. Kim practically took my phone out of my hand and started snapping. Those pictures are some of my most cherished and I have them because of her.
With Jack, I had both a positive and a negative experience with two different nurses. The nurse who checked us in, Sara, took us to our room, immediately told me how sorry she was and when I began to cry, she wrapped me in a hug so big, I didn’t realize someone of such small stature could accomplish. She asked me what my babies name was and she was patient and kind.
Unfortunately, Sara was not my nurse when I went into my c-section. That nurse was NOT patient and she was NOT kind. I was upset and filled with anxiety and I had a hard time sitting still while they tried to place the epidural. This nurse got annoyed with me (at least that’s what her tone portrayed) and told me that I needed to “be still and stop moving”.
Patience and kindness are key, but also, just know what you’re walking into and understand that we have no idea what we’re doing. Make sure we have the options to hold our babies, take pictures with our babies. Treat us like the other parents and let us decide for ourselves what we want and need. Don’t decide for us.
Ashley: I think for me and Kyle the biggest help for us from a nurse was when they presented a box to us with his footprints, name tag, swaddle, cap, etc. That was a blessing to me because I was able to take something back home with me that was my child’s that I could go back and look at whenever.
Erin: There are a few things our nurses did (or didn’t do) that made an impact.
This sounds silly, but even just knowing what you’re walking into is key. Alone the afternoon after my c-section, I pushed my call light to get help up to the bathroom. The nurse walked in to see what I needed, and I told her I needed help to the bathroom.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I just had a c-section?” I replied, exasperated.
“Where’s your baby?” she said.
“In the morgue,” I hissed.
Apparently she’d missed the teardrop on the door.
That same night, my husband had gone home to shower and collect his thoughts, and I was having trouble falling asleep. The night nurse, Amanda, came in to check on me. I broke down into body-wracking sobs, unable to catch my breath. She sat down on the bed to offer support, then held me for two hours while I cried. She didn’t leave my side, suggest a sleep aide or judge. She listened while I rambled and blew snot all over both of us, then tucked me in and waited until I fell asleep. The following day, my birthday, she brought a homemade cake for our family to share. Amanda’s presence is one of the greatest gifts we received during that hospital stay.
When we left the hospital, none of our “regular” nurses were on duty. Not knowing how to get ahold of them, we handwrote a thank-you note to our favorites and invited them to Ashlie’s service the following week, then dropped them at the nurses’ station. Out of the four we invited, Amanda and another nurse, Kate, came to the service that day. It makes me emotional just writing about it. I know they had a million other places they could be, but they chose us. They chose Ashlie. I will never forget looking up to see them walking into the chapel. They remembered.
Q: I have customers who have been through this and I’d love to know what to say when it comes up to help them?
Kendall: I HATE what I call “pity eyes”. They make me feel awkward and out of place. I had a strong urge that I wanted to talk about my babies. My hairdresser, Amber, asked me, point blank, are you comfortable talking about what happened, and then she allowed me to say what I wanted and she talked with me like I was “normal”. That meant the world to me.
Ashley: I feel that can be a tough question because for me, I didn’t want a “strangers” help. I was very angry and bitter at that time in my life. But I do think that you can always be polite and simply state I am sorry for your loss. You don’t have to get emotional because that just makes it that much harder sometimes to see a stranger getting emotional which in turn just makes you emotional and you could have been having a very strong day.
Erin: If you own a business that offers goods and you want to support your customer, you can send her something for free that you know she can use to take care of herself during this time. No coupons for a future purchase, no business cards, no advertising…just an item that you sell, beautifully wrapped, with a handwritten note to let her know you’re sorry and your thoughts are with her.
Q: What’s the best way to support a friend who has lost a child?
Kendall: Don’t brush it under the rug. Don’t pretend it didn’t happen. But don’t try to “make it better” either. Sometimes it’s hard to see your friend upset, but after child loss, that is what your friend needs…to be upset. You don’t have to try too hard. You just have to be there in whatever capacity is needed.
Ashley: I think the best way to support a friend is to just hug on them, give them time to tell you how they feel. DO NOT be pushy about getting them to open up or cry on your shoulder. Just be present.
Erin: Acknowledge it. Bringing it up will not make your friend more sad. It will likely bring her joy because you said her child’s name. But please don’t be silent. That makes it so much worse. If you don’t know what to say, tell her that. “I don’t know what to say, but I’m sorry.”
I didn’t need (or want) to hear that everything happens for a reason, that she was in a better place, that God needed an angel, or any of the other things people say when someone dies. I needed people to text me and tell me they were thinking of us. That’s it.
Also, if you’re comfortable, listen. Let your friend cry, scream, sit in silence, whatever she needs in that moment. And yes, it will change moment by moment, especially in the first few months.
Q: Is there something someone said or did that you found helpful or encouraging?
Kendall: I’ve said from the beginning that my circle is one to be envied. My closest friends visited me at the hospital with Jack (there was no time with Ruby), but only after checking with me to ensure I was ready for visitors. My coworkers as well as my husbands, set up a meal train. After we lost Jack, I asked for donations instead of flowers to raise money for CuddleCots. I’ve never been so thankful to not see a single flower in that funeral home. After we lost Ruby, a fellow loss mom sent me a self care package with various self-care items. I received a cross with a Ruby placed in it and Ruby’s name engraved not he back. I wear it EVERYDAY. Simple, thoughtful gestures. Nothing grand.
Ashley: I had a friend whom I met at GA Tech when I would go visit Kyle at college and she asked my permission to send me a book by a woman who had lost a child and how she was able to heal. I said yes and read the book. It was very helpful and encouraging.
Erin: I cannot say enough about the incredible support we received from literally thousands of people, but one of my best friends came to the hospital within hours of us receiving the news, and she was there with my family for two days. Then she went home and came back with snacks, cards from her kids and a prayer shawl from her church. She was one of the few that held Ashlie the night she was born, and I will always be grateful for her presence. Another close friend set up a meal train (I didn’t have to cook for six weeks!) and a Gofundme (which we used to start Ashlie’s Embrace). Other friends sent gifts and cards, named stars after Ashlie and put us on their prayer lists at church. Another friend took me out whenever I needed to leave the house…to shop, get dinner, or to just “be.” Also, I am an independent contractor, and one of my “co-workers” called all of my customers and took their orders for me, then gave me every penny of the sales without asking for a dime in return. We were taken care of in every sense of the word.
Q: How hard is it for you to be around someone who was pregnant at the same time? What about being around that child that you know is similar in age? What is the best way to make you feel most comfortable in that situation?
Kendall: Pregnant women in general don’t bother me. Pregnancy announcements are very hard for me. Birth announcements are very hard. I can’t be around newborns. It’s too much for me. With my friends children, I waited until they were a few months old at the earliest to meet them and, thankfully, my friends understood. I also, can’t do baby showers, partially because it’s hard for me and partially because I feel like my presence brings the event down (that may be just in my head and not reality, but it’s a thought and emotion that I can’t shake).
As far as children that were born at the same time, it was difficult at first, but now, I mostly see it as a blessing. My friends little boy was born a few weeks after Ruby and when he hits a milestone, I’m able to better imagine what Ruby might be doing if she were home with me.
Ashley: Right after I lost Connor, I could not even look at a pregnant woman without crying and becoming bitter. I had A LOT of anger towards God and did not understand why he would allow this to happen to me. When I was pregnant their was another woman at my church who was pregnant as well and her baby was alive and well. I would get so angry when I saw her and her baby that I had to take a break from working the nursery at church. For me the best way for me to be comfortable and try to not feel those emotions was to remove myself from those situations.
Erin: For me, it’s so, so hard. Even almost five years and a healthy baby later. The sting doesn’t go away. One of my closest friends and I announced our pregnancies a week apart and were due the same day. Her healthy, living baby girl was born two weeks before we lost Ashlie. I didn’t have the courage to meet that baby girl until she was 2. My friend has gone on to have two more girls, and I don’t have my girl. I still get upset sometimes when I see pictures of them or hear stories about how they’re growing up. Also, my cousin’s son was born the exact same day I gave birth to Ashlie. They are forever the same age. Sometimes it’s comforting, but other times it makes me so unbelievably sad.
Even though there are moments it physically hurts, it’s not my friend’s or my cousin’s job to make me feel comfortable. They did nothing wrong. Their children are a gift, and I would never ask or expect them to change their lives or dim their joy because I’m uncomfortable. It’s something I have to deal with on my own. I lessen the sadness by avoiding contact if it’s been a tough day, declining invitations to be with them on or around “anniversary” dates (Ashlie’s birthday, the day I found out I was pregnant, etc.) and looking at their social media when I’m in a good mood. (I am still their friend and still want to know what they’re up to!!) That may not be the right answer for everyone, but I’ve found it to work for me.
Q: How do you want people to tell you or not tell you they are pregnant or their family or friends are pregnant?
Kendall: I prefer being told over text or messenger. I never want my reaction to come across disingenuous, but there are so many emotions that go through me when I learn someone is pregnant and the happy emotion doesn’t alway come across first even though I AM very happy for them. But I’m also sad for me and scared for them, and jealous, and about a million other emotions. A text message allows me to react naturally without worrying that I hurt someones feelings.
Ashley: At the time I was okay hearing they were pregnant. I was happy for them but then there was always that thought in the back of my mind of I wish that was me.
What I do not like is when a friend or someone I know is being very insensitive to someone who has lost a child. What I mean is always complaining about pregnancy in front of them or making statements like I am so ready to not be pregnant anymore. That in my opinion is disrespectful to say that in front of that person especially if their loss is very fresh. I think pregnant woman are entitled to feel how they feel but also need to be considerate to those friends who have recently lost a child. Making those statements in front of a mother who has just lost a child is like a slap in the face because in our minds we would kill to have those pains, we would love to feel those kicks and pushes that make it hard to breath. I don’t think the average person thinks this way that’s why people don’t stop to think maybe I should only complain to this friend and not yet in front of this friend.
Erin: I personally don’t mind how people tell me they are pregnant. Social media, in person, a surprise reveal…I’m not fazed anymore. My reaction is generally the same: genuine happiness for them, sadness for me, a quick stab of fear for them, then a prayer their baby comes home. I may or may not unfollow that person on social media as the pregnancy progresses.
Q: What is it like recovering from c-section for you?
Kendall: I had two c-sections, an emergency c-section with Ruby, and repeat with Jack. After I had Ruby, I was up, moving, going almost immediately because I HAD too. Ruby was transferred from the hospital she was born at to a hospital over an hour away and I had to be there for her so I wasn’t thinking about my c-section. Adrenaline kicked in and pushed me through. After I had Jack, I was up just as quickly, this time, because I knew I could from my experience with Ruby. Sometimes, my c-section scar makes me feel closer to my babies. Thats how they came into this world and their presence here means so much to me.
Ashley: With Connor I had a natural child birth. I wanted to feel every pain every push because for me that was a connection I would have again with him.
Erin: I had two. The first was excruciating. Yes, I was in physical pain, but looking back, that part wasn’t really that bad. The emotional pain made it so much worse. I had never had a c-section before, so I moved slowly and took time for a full recovery.
When I had our son, I was up and moving the following morning. Yes, there was pain, but I had a baby to take care of. I was bending, walking, sitting and standing without any help. There was a clear message it wasn’t about me anymore, and my nurses seemed to expect I’d figure it out on my own. No one coddled me like they had the first time. I refused pain medications because I was nursing, but I honestly don’t remember much pain after we came home. There was no time for that.
However, there’s a secondary, more lasting effect of the c-sections: I generally avoid labor or birth stories. My first labor and delivery was filled with fear, grief and confusion. My second delivery, although joyful, was severely clouded by the first. So I feel those “mom” moments of labor and delivery were stolen from me, and I try to steer clear of conversations about ice chips and birth plans.
Three loss mother’s. Three stories. Four children who were gone too soon. I hope this has helped shed some light on what we went through and how you can be there for a friend now or in the future.
Out of the Darkness 