Dear Lykan

*Content warning: The photos shared below are of a highly sensitive nature and may be considered disturbing for some. Please scroll with caution. *

On July 6, 2020, I went into the hospital 26 weeks pregnant with what I had just learned was my dead son. After more than 1 horrific, emotional, heartbreaking hour of labor, I had to leave empty handed. These are some of the things I needed to say to my son.

Dear Lykan Alexander ,

On November 3, 2021, you would have been turning one. But on July 6th of 2020 I lost you. Though a lot of ch healing has happened in these few short months and yet in one moment the pain can all flood back and seem like it happened just yesterday. Every day, I remember wondering how I would go on? Would I ever be able to get over this? The answer is no. But with the support such as I had from my family and friends, I did. The sun rises every day and I get stronger, better. 3 months feels sudden, somehow.  I have thought of you and longed to hold you in my arms just one more time every.single.day since I last saw you.

When we last parted, I had to hand you over forever to a stranger who I knew was taking you to the morgue. I knew I would never see you again as long as I'm living. Going home without you felt like I left a body part behind; it was the hardest thing I've ever done. I truly believe I will see you, hold you, and breathe in your sweet scent again someday. Until then, know that I will never stop thinking of you, never stop loving you, never stop being your mommy.

Rest in peace, my sweet Lykan.


This is my second time sharing these photos—the first time was with close family and friends. Many more who are close to me haven’t seen them either. But I feel like sharing these will not only help to honor LAE and his very brief time alive, but maybe someone who is also struggling will stumble upon them and know that they aren't alone. Yes, it's hard to see these images, it's almost tangible, but I also know how far I’ve come now too. Stillbirth isn't spoken of much, many just don't know what to say. As the mother you feel like you are just supposed to go on, don't bring it up, because it actually makes others more uncomfortable than you are. To the mothers who've also suffered this loss... You WILL make it through another day. You CAN go on.

How?

Talk about your child. Cry. Scream. Everyday will get just a little bit better if you let yourself. You have a guardian angel now. Do what you have to do to heal because of what your child would want for you. Go to a support group of suffering mothers and acknowledge that baby. Say his name. Hold that mother tightly and be there for her (the fathers too). Be patient and give them some grace. Your help and support is what helps so much to get us back to 'normal'. It will be a priceless gift; I can't thank my tribe enough.

But the first few days are extremely hard. Once I was home from the hospital, I had a literal ache in my arms. Nothing helped it—not pain reliever, massages—nothing. It wasn’t until I realized they ached to hold my son that the pain actually dissipated.

Another traumatic blow that everyone forgot to mention was that even though I didn’t have a baby to feed, my milk would still come in. Feeling like I had a big bowl of jelly stomach was no longer valid since I didn’t have a baby to “excuse” it.

But no one was harder on me than myself.

I wracked my brain for anything and everything I could’ve done wrong that  caused this to happen. But in the meantime, I blamed myself for everything. Even things I had done before ever pregnant—I thought it could be a higher power punishing me. I learned from both my aunt who is a licensed nurse and doctor that what had happened was fomenting called Placental abruption, which is an uncommon yet serious complication of pregnancy. The placenta develops in the uterus during pregnancy. It attaches to the wall of the uterus and supplies the baby with nutrients and oxygen. Placental abruption occurs when the placenta partly or completely separates from the inner wall of the uterus before delivery. This can decrease or block the baby's supply of oxygen and nutrients and cause heavy bleeding in the mother.

Then I felt terrible because I thought I didn’t love him enough; I really put myself through the wringer and I think put so much more emotional duress on myself than what I already had. Now as I look as these photos all I can think about is what I need to do next when and if I decide to have another baby and if this will happen again once I’m ready for another baby.

Five things you should know about stillbirth:

1. The emotional pain outlasts any physical pain.

2. The mothers endure so much more emotional turmoil and so much guilt. Please feel free to offer support, but keep your comments about "why" this happened to yourself.

3. Support is the way to better mental health. We need to share these stories and help each other.

4. You can't send a new mother home empty-handed and expect her to move on. Even if you give her all the information she needs at the hospital (regarding support groups or next steps), she won't hear you - not right away. Follow up and check in with her. Everyone's timeline is different

5. Grief is not linear; it's a process. Even 4 months later, I'm still feeling the emotions flow from my heart.

Losing my son has never been easy but I know that as time goes by the loss will ease up a little bit I know that no matter what happens, his due date will always be a reminder of my loss and I know that if I ever plan on having more children that the pain of his loss will scare me because eill remember this happened but I also know that with the right help I’ll be able to love forward and grow a family with my first watching over us from heaven.