What We Didn’t Know About Baby Loss

We knew that baby loss happened. We knew about miscarriage and we knew that sometimes people still had to give birth to their babies who had already died. What we didn’t know was that I would be encouraged to follow my birth plan as much as possible. That we would still be allowed a water birth or that Berty would still poo on the midwife when he arrived (literally all over her apron). We didn’t know that we would be too scared to hold him because of how soft his head was, and we didn’t know that leaving him in the hospital would be the hardest part of all.

When we got home, we hadn’t expected to regret not taking more photos of him or singing to him. We didn’t know that I would have to inject myself in my belly once a day for 10 days to stop blood clots. We didn’t expect a doctor to call up asking why we hadn’t taken him to the hospital for his heel-prick test and we didn’t expect the world to keep turning as it always does.

When it was time for his funeral, we didn’t know that the Hospital would pay for everything. We didn’t know that we would regret not seeing him again in the mortuary beforehand or for not taking photos. Berty’s Daddy didn’t know that he would regret walking too fast whilst carrying his son’s casket down the chapel aisle and I didn’t know that I would be angry when the vicar started praying and thanking God for Berty’s short life.

And in the time following this, we hadn’t expected to struggle with work. We hadn’t expected that Berty’s Daddy would become depressed or that I would have flashbacks for months after. We didn’t expect to feel so lonely and angry, and we didn’t know that we would struggle to talk to our pregnant friends or that we would be triggered by happy family pictures on social media and then feel guilty about all of this. We didn’t know that we would miss him every day and hate when people ignored his existence or expected us to be ok because some time has passed.

Looking back now, none of this is surprising for us, but we never would have known any of this if we hadn’t lost Berty. Baby loss is a taboo. People don’t want to acknowledge it in fear that they will ‘catch it’ or they don’t want to know because it makes them uncomfortable or because it's too upsetting. But we wish we had known all of this before it was too late. We wish we had known that we would miss Berty every day and that the few photos and items we have connected with him would be our most treasured items in our world. At the end of the day, I am sure that even if we had known that we would still have regrets, but the silence around baby loss needs to end.

Parents who suffer a baby loss have done nothing wrong but are told by society to keep quiet about it. They are told that it’s just ‘one of those things' and that they should move on by having another baby and not dwell in the past. They are told that they are lucky their baby died before birth instead of after, or lucky that they are so young and can try again. Yet we know many that have lost a baby, whether that be last month or 50 years ago who says the pain doesn’t go away, but you just get better at coping. That another baby will never replace the one you lost and that there is no bright side to any of this ever and people needing to find something positive about this is insulting and tiring.

This is why we believe it is so important to talk about baby loss and why we want to encourage people to say something and show that they care. We don’t think people mean to be insulting or insensitive, but that people don’t know any better. We certainly didn’t before losing Berty. I, Berty’s mummy work with families and have met so many who have encountered a baby loss, yet I was quick to move on to another topic or worried I would upset them if I encouraged them to talk about it. Now I know how wrong I was, and it’s changed the way I work with them for the better. When I returned, I knew I didn’t want to hide Berty’s story and that I would share if the time was right and I am so glad I made this decision as each time I have found the parent I am speaking to has their own story to tell. Stories of stillbirth, miscarriage, recurrent miscarriage, terminations for medical reasons (TFMR), ectopic pregnancies, sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS) and neonatal death. Despite three years working with this demographic, I never acknowledge how many people had experienced a baby loss and I hadn’t even thought that maybe a baby loss would affect their future parenting or cause a long-term mental health condition. But it can and it does.

Let’s start talking openly about baby loss. Let’s make sure we are prepared to support those who experience a loss and make sure people don’t feel so alone or guilty. Because although this may never happen to you (and I truly hope you never have to feel this pain) the reality is someone you know has had a baby or pregnancy loss and they deserve the chance to talk about their baby or their grief. They deserve to be acknowledged as parents going through hell and they deserve support.