Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness: My Story

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month began in 1988. Years later, October 15th was established as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. At 7 p.m. to 8 p.m., candles are lit, creating a wave of light in remembrance of our babies.

As a mother who suffered two losses, I am thankful these days are observed. In October, my social media profile picture is updated to the pregnancy and infant loss ribbon, a subtle and acceptable way for me to acknowledge my babies' existence, regardless of how short their little lives were.

I went through my first miscarriage in October 2010. I was estimated to be around six weeks pregnant. I went to my first ultrasound appointment, and the heartbeat could not be found. I struggled to accept the loss. I would not schedule a D&C until I went for a second opinion at a different hospital. I received the same result on the second ultrasound. The D&C was scheduled. After the D&C, I was able to begin healing from the loss and procedure.

In 2012, I found out I was pregnant again. As I moved into the second trimester, I began to relax and started preparing to bring home a new baby. I was convinced that everything was going to be okay with this pregnancy. I was beginning to show and felt tiny kicks. We were certain the baby was a boy, and we named him Gabriel. The gender ultrasound was scheduled at 19 weeks. My husband took off work, and my older children came with us to the appointment. We were all excited to find out the gender. The ultrasound screen showed a perfect profile of the baby, but no heartbeat. The ultrasound tech stopped without telling us the gender. I was taken through back hallways to my doctor's office, and my doctor gave me the bad news. Gabriel was measuring 14 weeks. He had passed a month prior to the ultrasound. My children struggled to understand, and I struggled to answer their questions.

No matter how many years have passed, the loss weighs on a mother's heart. The heartbreak eases with time, but we hold them in our hearts forever.

I went through losses over a decade ago. At the time, I was shocked to see that miscarriage was a taboo topic. It was difficult to understand how the loss of a baby could be stigmatized in some cultures. Communities pull together in times of death, showing support to families who suffered a loss, but it's forbidden to speak of a miscarriage.

When the loss was still raw, I quickly learned it was unacceptable to mention, even around family. An uncomfortable moment for family became a lasting memory for me.

If I brought up the loss, it made people uncomfortable. The subject of conversation was changed immediately.

Those who were willing to discuss it said harsh, inappropriate things.

“It's best to forget about it.”

“What if you carried it full term and it was born dead?”

“You knew better than to take those prescriptions your doctor prescribed.”

“I couldn't deal with having a dead baby inside me.”

I do not remember how I responded, but I will never forget what they said.

I learned “it's best to” keep it to myself. I mourned the losses alone. I healed on my own while caring for two small children.

I take comfort in knowing that during October, people who suffered the same type of losses mourn together, and on October 15th at 7 p.m., we create a wave of light in remembrance of the babies we lost.