Almost Parent
''Maybe it was for the better''
''It wasn't meant to be''
''No matter how it happened, you weren't going to be in it's life anyway''
fuck off.
"Were you even gonna keep it?"
"It's really for the best, you did save some money on the procedure"
"You just weren't meant to be a parent''
Fuck off.
"God knew you could handle it"
"God didn't think it was your time"
"He had other plans"
"He needed them more than you"
Fuck Off.
"the first one was almost 4 years ago, shouldn't you be over it"
"It wasn't even that far along"
"At least you didn't have a stillbirth"
"At least they were gone before they were in your life"
"At least they didn't feel anything"
FUCK OFF
things not to say, to anyone.
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Hello Friends 💙
I'm Shay and I'm 20 ❤️
I made this blog to help me talk about my struggles whilst trying to conceive my second child with PCOS.
I was diagnosed when I was 16 and was warned I would have trouble conceiving children in the future, this devistated me because all I have ever wanted to be in with world is a mother.
When I was 19, I met my soulmate. And 2 months into our relationship we found out I was pregnant.
It was a complete accident but we were still over the moon and so excited to be parents. I loved being pregnant and I was very prepared to be a mum.
At 20 weeks, my waters broke. We were assured there was still a chance we could make it to viability but unfortunately 3 days later my sons cord fell through my cervix, which sealed our fate.
Our son, Aspyn, was born 3 days later at 21 weeks. He passed during birth.
TTC after losing a child is hard, but its a hell of a lot harder with PCOS. It's been 6 months since my son passed and I have only had 1 period in that time.
I'm here to lose some weight, impliment more positive changes for my body and kick PCOS's ass so my partner and I can finally give birth to a child who can cry when they're born.
Everything I do is with my son in my heart, he can never be replaced or forgotten 💙
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Mama of Two
Every year on the first Sunday in May, International Bereaved Mother's Day honors mothers who have lost a child. It's also a day to recognize women who cannot be a mother due to infertility or other health reasons. One of the hardest days for many women around the world as Mother's Day.
TRIGGER WARNING mention of loss
So I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All my life
And I will praise the One Who's chosen me
To carry you
It’s been a little over four years now since I started this motherhood journey. Even my last proper blog entry here was about Maternity... an experience I wanted to write about in a series. But obviously, four years have passed since and my son has now grown into this wonderful, cheeky big boy (family also moved from Korea to New Zealand)! I just wrote about the second trimester the last time I sat to blog here and now I am at this stage of getting him his first soccer shoes and having his primary school enrolment lined up. Time sure did fly!
But as the title of this entry suggests, I also have a second child. And that, after gathering some courage, I promised myself to write. Nothing inspiring or interesting like that. But still something I hold close to my heart and will read back in years to come. Anyway...
In September 2020, after a year or so of anxiety from secondary infertility (my hormones have always been at odds with me for forever) while trying to conceive Baby #2, I received the miracle of an answered prayer... and that was the wanted pregnancy.
It was the 7th week (October), instead of an ultrasound to confirm a heartbeat, I found myself waking up from an emergency surgery. While I was in bed, the surgeon stopped by, showed me photos of my uterus, the right fallopian tube where the fetus was in, the beginning stages of internal bleeding-- the cold clinical diagnosis of an ectopic pregnancy, and the successful laparoscopy. From a medical and moral standpoint, the pregnancy was not viable, the internal bleeding was life-threatening, so termination was inevitable.
Compassionately, the doctors expressed their sympathy and added a hopeful “Next time we hope to see you in the maternity ward (to deliver a baby)...” I sighed a sigh of relief, thanked them for saving my life, and got myself ready for the road to recovery.
Or not.
It didn’t take long from the “I can’t believe it, we’re gonna have another baby!” to turn into “I can’t believe I lost a baby.”
Just as two lines on a pregnancy test could easily lead to a future family of four... until something goes wrong and your worst fear is realised.
From Congratulations to I’m sorry.
From dream come true to living a nightmare.
From exciting to traumatic.
From thanking God for an answered prayer to being angry at God for the tragedy.
Grief. Yes, it has become very much a big part of me since that day of my surgery. Since becoming a mother. Of. Two.
6 years ago, when I lost my father at 52, grief entered and changed me and scarred me for life. Then...
It happened again.
Not long ago, I was happy and hopeful... now I’m walking this sometimes painful, sometimes numbing, always lonely road of grief. My incision scars have long faded and all. I even forget that I had a body part gone. But not the part of my Mama heart that died.
I often listen to Bethany Barnard’s song, Tears on Your Face. A raw and beautiful song coming from grief... one of my go-to songs for comfort to ride a wave of grief or anger that knocks the wind out of my faith.
You don't fast forward me through this
And I've gotta reconcile that
You want to know me when I'm like this
And I've gotta reconcile that
You didn't change the diagnosis
And I've gotta reconcile that
You've reconciled it all in Your flesh
And like her, I’m still trying to make sense of my life post the loss.
It’s now 2022, I’m living through a global pandemic, inflation, and war but I’ll shamelessly admit that I’m still hung up on losing that baby. There was even a phase... whenever I heard someone complain about something, and while listening, looking like I was empathizing, but mentally I was raging. So? But I lost my baby...
The weather sucks. So? But I lost my baby..
Traffic sucks. So? But I lost my baby..
The housing market sucks. So? But I lost my baby..
COVID sucks. So? But I lost my baby..
The government sucks. So? But I lost my baby..
Everyone around me moved on in life. And to me, that felt wrong. But that was just my grief.
I couldn’t stand pregnancy and baby related posts on social media. But that was just my grief.
I gave my son extra hugs thinking bitterly that he might be an only child. But that was just my grief.
I stopped praying. I was scared that instead of giving, God will keep taking away from me. But that was just my grief.
On better days, I find comfort in knowing that my baby is Home in Glory, like my Papa. That she (or he) won’t have to experience the struggles of living in this fallen world, she was spared of suffering and evil. And that I will meet her. Even if it’s for the first time. Because God made her soul, she exists. I’ll always be her mum and she will always be my child. God is good. I’m gonna be okay.
On difficult days, I am far from okay. Hours of stuffing my face in a pillow, stifling the ugly bawling. Here I go again, mourning...
I know that I’ll be brokenhearted for a very long time... I’ve read so many stuff coming from mothers who lost children from every stage of pregnancy or infancy... In Reddit, Facebook groups, Youtube’s comment section. Mothers mourning for 10, 20, 50 long years. Crying about someone they’ll never know in this life but alive and loved, forever carried in their hearts. So much grief and pain.
This is the world of bereaved mothers. A place no Mama deserves to find themselves in. A life I didn’t want to know and am crippled with.
I am all here to celebrate my son’s milestones. Absolutely! but also a part of me will grieve for the other one who didn’t make it...
Knowing what I know, I hoped to go through it all again, you see. Having been through pregnancy, babyhood, and now childhood through raising my son... I was going to be an improved version, not like a first-timer. But instead, I am in a loop, hounded by what-if’s and could be’s... I never thought it’ll be silently devastating. The trauma is so sneaky, out of nowhere it messes with me.
I wasn’t prepared for it-- the unbearable thought of never knowing.
The sound of your heartbeat.
The sleepless nights. The cuddles and kisses.
What you’d look like. Your smile. Your frown.
What you’d sound like. When you call me “Mama.”
I wasn’t prepared for it-- the guilt.
I was supposed to keep you healthy and safe and alive. But instead, from the womb, I couldn’t. For all I know, you were a perfectly healthy baby, but to preserve my life, yours was cut short. I gave up my right tube for my right to live. For my health and future’s sake. While you were just getting started, cells still multiplying, your tiny heart still beating. *SNIP* Tube removed. That was it?
I feel like I should be very sorry. Why, my poor baby, you had to go that way?
I wasn’t prepared for it-- a future of missing someone.
When we take a family picture, Christmas, New Year, birthdays, and every June. I can just see you there, you were going to turn 2.
So it’s just right to not ever forget you. I can’t and I shouldn’t. I’ll make sure your brother knows you. But even if it’s just me, I’ll cry when I think of you, when you were given to me and when I lost you. I’ll still imagine you could have been my little girl or boy, someone to cherish and be proud of. Always part of the family I’ve always wanted...
You belong here.
And on That Day, when I face you, I can say that in my life, in my own way, no matter what, Mama’s here and I love you.
Helpful Links:
13 Things You Should Know About Grief After Miscarriage or Baby Loss
Things Not to Say to Someone After a Miscarriage
The Ectopic Pregnancy Trust
Pregnancy/Infant/Child Loss Support
An Unexpected Family Outing
P.S. To family and friends and co-workers who have been there for me, and prayed for me, I also want to say THANK YOU again. I may not be in a better place yet emotionally, and even my faith walk has nothing to show for it... Two years on, know that I’ll always be grateful.
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Not a Pregnancy Announcement
A year ago this past January, I realized I might be pregnant as I sat on my couch chatting with my mother. I tested negative, but something told me to test again, and I did, for three days on the third day, that is when I got those two pink lines. Those two wonderful pink lines. They were faint, but I figured it could only go up from here right? How wrong I was, I tested the next day just because I couldn't believe it, the lines were more faint, and the next day barely visible. I went to the doctor for blood, and they were barely positive. The following day I started bleeding. Baby boy/girl was my rainbow, and now I had to give him/her back to the universe, where my first angel baby resided. I completely shut my partner out, as a matter of fact, I told him I wanted nothing to do with him anymore, and he didn't understand. In a haste of anger, sadness, and grief I got the Nexplanon put in. I couldn't imagine going through a miscarriage a third time. I just couldn't. Our darling rainbow was due September 13, 2023(based off calculations). And we will love them forever.
This February, I had my Nexplanon removed, and my partner and I are now actively trying to conceive our double rainbow. I will post updates and stories of our journey here as frequently as I remember. It took over a year to be ready to even think of TTC again, but we are ready, with hearts cautious but optimistic. We'll never forget our beloved angel baby. Remember, it is OK to grieve for as long as you need to. Love and baby dust to all!
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stages of grief
The stages of grief, as originally proposed by psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, are a framework that describes the emotional and psychological process people often go through when faced with a significant loss or bereavement. While it's important to note that not everyone experiences grief in the same way or follows a linear progression through these stages, they can provide a general understanding of the common reactions individuals may have. The stages of grieving are listed as follows:
Denial: This initial stage involves shock and disbelief, where the individual may struggle to accept the reality of the loss. They could experience emotional numbness or detachment.
Anger: As the denial fades, feelings of anger and frustration may emerge. The person may direct their anger toward themselves, others, or even the situation itself. It's a normal response to the loss and can be a way of expressing pain.
Bargaining: In this stage, individuals may attempt to negotiate or make deals in an attempt to reverse or mitigate the loss. They may find themselves making promises or seeking a different outcome, often in a religious or spiritual context.
Depression: Feelings of sadness, helplessness, and despair are common during the depression stage. The individual may withdraw from others, experience difficulty concentrating, and have a loss of interest in activities they once enjoyed.
Acceptance: This last stage entails accepting the loss and incorporating it into one's life. It does not mean that the person has completely "gotten over" the loss, but rather that they have found a way to move forward and adjust to a new reality.
TalkToAngel is an “Online counselling” platform that provides professional support and guidance to individuals facing various challenges, including grief and loss.
Working with an “Online counsellor” can provide support and assistance throughout the grieving process. They can help individuals explore their emotions, work through the stages of grief, and develop healthy coping mechanisms.
TO READ MORE:- https://www.talktoangel.com/area-of-expertise/grief-and-loss
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