After Loss
October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. Losing a baby at any stage of pregnancy has a profound effect on the way a woman goes on to parent any future children. We often don’t think about the effect a prior loss has on parenting but I personally believe it touches every aspect in some manner.
I have written extensively on my difficulties with breastfeeding due to my history of sexual abuse, but I have spoken very little on the effect that my losses have had on my breastfeeding relationships. The effect has been both positive and negative and navigating its effect has added another dimension to my journey.
I am currently pregnant with what will hopefully be my third and last child. But this is the 8th time I have been pregnant. Five times I have heard, “I am so sorry, there is not heartbeat.” or “the numbers just aren’t doing what we would like them to do” or woken up to blood when there should have been none. My most recent loss was in May of this year and it has had a profound effect on this pregnancy.
When my daughter was born in 2013, she was my miracle after consecutive losses, including one in the second trimester. She was my rainbow. She was my everything. I felt so blessed to have this tiny being finally alive and screaming. Our breastfeeding story is deep and complicated. She is also the baby who began to unthaw my heart after 18 years of sexual abuse had made my breasts something taboo. Weeks after Grace was born, I began to think more about the babies I never got to feed. The babies who grew within my body but ended their journey before they could ever be nourished by my breasts. I thought of them often as she grew, hit milestones, and as she weaned I wondered how long our relationships may have been.
Losing a baby changes everything. When I became pregnant, I had dreams and hopes of how things would have been. Each time I had my heart shattered because I dreamed so much. I dreamed about how it would be to hold a sweet baby in my arms instead of a stuffed animal. I dreamed about who they would look like, what color their eyes would be, and if they would grow up to be smart like daddy. I dreamed about showing my babies the world instead of carrying around their ashes in hopes that I could show them the world they never got to see.
After Grace was born, breastfeeding started to play into that. It is such an important part of my parenting that I can’t help but wonder what it would have been like with the babies who never made it home. Would they have sweetly stared at me while latched on like Grace did? Would they have thrashed about wildly with a twinkle in their eye like Brendan does? What would our relationship have looked like? Its another thing I lost and never got to experience, only dream about.
Each year I dedicate posts and reflection to the babies we never got to meet, the babies who were born but couldn’t stay, and the one’s who had to leave shortly after going home. I dedicate words to them, their parents, and all who loved them. Losing a baby changes you forever. The early days, months, and years are unbearable. As time goes on, so does life, but a piece of you always wonders and always thinks about what could have been. For me, breastfeeding has been a part of that. I will always wonder what could have been, what it would have looked like, and how it might have contributed to my journey.
My babies will stay with me forever. As I prepare to deliver my third baby and second girl, I remember those who aren’t with me. I carry them in my heart forever. I will always wonder who they would have been and what role they could have played in my story had they only gotten a chance to live.