Entry 026
October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.
If you’re reading this, you’ve likely been affected by pregnancy or infant loss in some way—whether by the passing of your own child or of someone you love’s—or maybe you just stumbled upon this writing and your curiosity has kept you reading.
Most people don’t know Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month exists. Admittedly, I didn’t until I became a loss mom. Much like miscarriage, stillbirth, ectopic pregnancy, and the death of a newborn themselves, this month isn’t widely talked about. It’s well known in the community of loss parents but really, this month isn’t for us.
To tell you what I mean, I’m sharing some the words I wrote almost a year ago in Blog 003. It was October 15th—National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.
This is for the family members trying to learn how to comfort their loved one whose pregnancy ended before they got to share the news of baby’s existence.
This is for the friend wondering why the loss mama didn’t show up for her baby shower even though she said she would and for the guys wondering why he’s taking it so hard even though he never felt the baby move.
This is for the pregnancy apps still notifying the mother of baby’s development despite her reporting the loss and for the company still emailing her coupons for customized onesies even though she unsubscribed.
This is for the co-workers wondering how she can be ‘fine’ even though she just miscarried while she cries in the bathroom and changes another blood-soaked pad because she doesn’t have any more PTO.
This is for the people who mean well but still can’t manage to understand that no, God didn’t need that baby more than his or her parents did on earth.
Pregnancy loss and infant death are far too common. But that doesn’t take the pain of waking up every day without your baby any less. Even though 1 in 4 pregnancies (around one million) end before birth each year, loss parents feel alone. Your baby dying inside your body or in your arms makes you feel like a failure. Not being able to do the one thing you need to do as a mother or father—protect the wellbeing of your child—makes you wish it was you instead of them.
Loss parents fear judgment and shame when we just need support. We think considering ourselves parents makes us frauds to those who are blessed to care for their living child every day because our parenthood is vastly different. We’re afraid people will think we just want attention and sympathy when really, we just want the world to know our baby existed. So we don’t tell you about our angel. We don’t factor that child into the number we say when asked how many children we have and we say, “Hopefully, soon!” through a forced smile while still bleeding from our loss when asked when we’re finally going to have a baby by someone who has no clue what we’ve been through.
Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month exists so that loss parents can talk about their baby who’s no longer here without feeling guilty, and for those who haven’t experienced it to become aware of why that matters.
Emily Lindquist