I faced an unimagined reality: I would need to birth a baby that was dead.
I’m hopeful that I will one day figure out a way for Caleb to be part of my public life.
Before it was a nursery staple, it was a way for Robert Munsch to grieve.
My miracle came beautifully wrapped up in a feeble baby boy who fit perfectly in my arms. He was tiny and his life so very brief. But he is no less a miracle. He is my miracle. And I will never stop believing in the power and hope that continues to manifests in his life.
Few situations highlight our inability to fix and make better more starkly than the loss of a baby. Medical professionals treating a family affected by miscarriage or stillbirth are faced not only with the inability to fix or heal the baby who has died, but also uncertainty about how to respond to the grieving parents.
When the doctor confirmed my worst suspicions and slowly helped me up from the exam table, I asked, "What happens now? Do I need to have a D&C?" He shook his head no. "You'll need to deliver." With those words, I was transported into a "through the looking glass" world where life as it was supposed to be was turned on its head.
"Every time you feel frustrated and want to run away, please remember my story."
Don't minimize the precious child she has lost by saying she can always have another child, she was "only" at 10 weeks, or at least she has another child. She is grieving a life that lived inside of her -- for however short a time -- and that life and loss deserves honor and respect.
Dark: An appointment with the NICU doctors where we were reminded of realities of his diagnosis. Light: A beach day on Cape Cod followed by a scoop of the best ginger ice cream I've ever had. Dark: Waking up on Mother's Day knowing that I am going to be a mom to a boy in Heaven.
As a parent who has been through two miscarriages and a stillbirth, I have had the opportunity to experience medical professionals' responses to pregnancy loss first hand. Some were comforting and validating. Others -- like Dr. P's -- have been clumsy, hurtful, or off-putting.
I still think a lot about that searing winter when the dead and the living were juxtaposed, each clamoring impossibly to be understood. I remember the white-hot grief and the blunt-force trauma of my sudden loss, and also the sweet presence of my little boy, playing with blocks.
As I eagerly await a fun and relaxing Father's Day weekend with my three kids and wife, my thoughts -- as they often do -- turn to my daughter that isn't here to celebrate with us. Grace Elizabeth was born still almost 11 years ago.
On a beautiful, Sunday afternoon, my mother encouraged me to call the doctor. He told me to go to the hospital to be monitored. I was excited about the possibility of seeing my baby on an ultrasound again. We headed to the hospital with naive anticipation.
Like two million other women across the world each year, Brooke Hopkins suffered a stillborn birth without any indication prior that something was wrong.