Personal Stillbirth Story

“Two months after we got married, I was pregnant. We were so excited, but also nervous. A couple of weeks into the pregnancy, I got a bad stomach virus, or so I thought. It was lasting a bit too long and I realized it must be pregnancy related. A few days later I was stuck in bed, I couldn't move, couldn't sleep, and could not talk. Any smell made my stomach turn, I couldn't eat and drinking water made my stomach feel like there were marbles inside.

It was summer and we moved into my in-laws basement so at least I wouldn't be alone all day and my husband would be able to eat! We were new to this; we didn't really know what was going on. Later, I found out I had hyperemesis gravidarum.

We lived in my in-laws basement for a couple months but staying in the dark basement was not helping my already decreasing mental health. I was lonely, confused and just so extremely uncomfortable. I lost touch with my friends, I couldn't talk and could barely text. Opening my mouth was difficult and anytime I spoke I got nauseous. It was obviously a tremendous challenge. Newly married and this was my life.

After about 14 weeks I was able to be more "human". The nausea was just a part of my pregnancy journey. I was thankful for any time I was able to function. At 37 weeks I started going to my weekly appointments. At that 37 week appointment, I mentioned to the doctor that I didn't feel the baby moving as much, we checked the heartbeat- loud and clear, BH. I figured it was normal. I thought "the baby is getting bigger and must not have enough room to move around." That week also noticed a decrease of movement, but at my 38 week appointment we heard the heartbeat loud and clear. Phew!

I went to the office for my 39 week appointment, my regular doctor was on vacation so I was just seeing the OB/GYN that was available. She was having a hard time finding the heartbeat, my anxiety was rising, but sure enough we found it. However, it was a little lower than usual so she wanted me to sit and get monitored for a bit. As the tech was putting me on the monitor she was having trouble finding the heartbeat again, I saw it in her face as she excused herself.

I quickly texted my sister- in-law and mother-in-law, who were in Israel, to stop and daven (pray) because something was going on. It didn't occur to me what exactly it was, I just knew that something was wrong.

Soon, another doctor brought me into a room to do a sonogram. I remember seeing a pair of boots sitting next to the chair and thinking this is not right, they kicked a patient out of the room so I could come in.

I was having a hard time breathing, a nurse came in and grabbed my hand. A sonographer came in as well and all I saw was a shake of her head, and that's when the doctor said the words, "I'm so sorry there's no heartbeat"! I remember calling my husband screaming, "There's no heartbeat, there's no heartbeat!"

I called my mom in Boston, this was her first grandchild. The nurse and doctor comforted me and brought me to a quiet office to wait for my husband to come from work. I just lay there crying. I remember exactly what I was wearing: a heather grey top from Target and black skirt. Finally my husband got there and we spoke about our options. A lot was discussed but we decided to go home shower pack up and get ready to be induced.

The process was long and painful. The baby was still way up and I was not dilated at all. My mom drove in and for three days and she and my husband sat at my bedside. We had the most amazing nurse who sat with me and let me just talk and cry to her when I needed, and talk normally when I needed that also. My husband's family was in Israel for a Circumcision ceremony bris of our new nephew, that's a whole story in itself. Having a nephew have a bris while you're delivering a stillborn isn't so easy; it leads to more pain and suffering.

It took three days but I delivered her. A baby girl. I didn't make a sound as I pushed. All I kept mumbling to myself was a reminder that I wouldn't be hearing her cry. With the help of a bereavement counselor and family friend, my mom, my husband, an incredible doctor and a room full of nurses, I was able to push. I had so much medication in me, I wasn't able to do it alone. When she came out, there was silence.

A nurse took her out to clean her off and at that point we already knew we wanted to hold her and spend time with her. We were told not to kiss her or name her. The Chevra Kadisha would be naming her at her burial. Once she was handed to me I just cried and cried, I sang her the song my Bubbie always sang to me, "I love you a bushel and a peck" and I just told her how much I loved her and how badly I wanted her. I wanted to make sure she knew she would have been so loved with us.

My husband and mom also got a chance to hold her and talk to her. Then my husband and I had alone time with her. When she was taken from us, it was already shabbos and we were wheeled to our room, furthest from the nursery. But when the anesthesiologist came to check on me, he asked about the baby. I had no words. I just looked at him blankly. He apologized and stepped out, he realized he had made a big mistake.

There's so much to this story. It is hard to know what to add or what not to, but in terms of my healing there was so much pain. Physically and mentally. I started drying up my milk right away. I didn't want to be in more pain than necessary. We were able to be discharged on shabbos (Sabbath). We were advised to not go home where we were expecting and waiting to bring a baby home to, so we went to my in-laws.

People visited, I didn't want many visitors but felt bad saying "no" to some. I appreciated my friends and family who just sat with me and listened to me talk. I was less appreciative to have others come and talk about their own losses, I wasn't ready to be the therapist for them. I had one visitor speak to me about her own 7 healthy births and how her children have been lucky to make pidyon habens (Ceremony for first born son) (like really?!). It was very uncomfortable and quite awful to sit through that, and I wish I was in a place to have asked her to just please stop.

A lot of our family didn't know how to react. Many acted like it never happened, some relatives didn't acknowledge it for weeks even during Passover, which was just a few weeks after. It was just "normal". But I was not normal. I was suffering, waking up in the middle of the night crying out for the baby who was supposed to be with me. Crying to Gd for some healing and understanding.

I didn't, and still don't, like when people say, "it happens for a reason" or "the baby was probably sick so this is G-d better" or "Hashem has a plan." I know those things. That's not what I needed to be told.

I needed my pain to be acknowledged, I needed support and love and comfort. I am so thankful for my family and friends who were able to give me that. I thank those who stood by me then and now, while I continue to work on becoming the person I lost through that first pregnancy and loss. It changed me... in more negative ways than positive.

But I won't stop growing. I now have three healthy living children. Each pregnancy came with its own problems and losses in between. Many nights in the labor and delivery triage room getting monitored - my babies just don't like to move. And many liters of orange juice consumed. I know who my supporters are and turn to them when I need to.”