Pregnant after stillbirth: First Trimester Thoughts
A watercolour womb, depicting the uterus after a birth. The simple heart shaped hole represents the love that is left behind after a miscarriage, termination or intrauterine death. - Emma Plunkett's Art Gallery.
As shared a few blog posts back, I am pregnant again. To have life inside my womb again where another child literally died is, for lack of a better word, a mind f**k. I looked for a polite synonym, but truly, there is no other phrase that captures the feeling quite so well. When people ask how I’m doing emotionally, the simplest answer that I can give is that “I am doing as well as can be expected” and that “it’s complicated”.
Let’s unwrap that.
At the waiting room at my pregnancy confirmation appointment when I was seven weeks pregnant (and just five months after Blair’s stillbirth), I wrote:
“I just desperately want to hear a heartbeat. I want to know that my body can still carry life.”
In my earliest weeks of this pregnancy, my strongest emotion was pride. It felt validating to me that I was pregnant again. I was proud of my body for giving our family another chance at bringing a healthy, living child into the world. There was of course a dark side to this. I felt like I had worth and purpose in my family again, as if I had failed in my mothering abilities by Blair’s fetal death. While I know logically that my worth is not tied to how many children I have, I certainly wrestled - and continue to wrestle - with complicated feelings of validation and worth in this pregnancy after stillbirth.
I have also felt a lot of fear. Without knowing exactly how Blair died, I became hyper-focused on scrutinizing what got anywhere near my body via food or contact of any kind. There was even a point where I felt afraid to kiss my twin toddlers’ lips because I couldn’t control where their mouths had been, and knew then that my protection was getting to an unhealthy point. I couldn’t let fear take control of my day-to-day life. I had to find a safe medium of protecting myself from potential germs and not being mentally unstable.
There have been moments when my fear extends beyond my current pregnancy and that of others. Seeing other pregnant women - especially those in their third trimester as I was with Blair - either in pictures or in-person in waiting rooms, can be hard at times. Another one of my excerpts of writing in the waiting room of my pregnancy confirmation appointment was:
“I'm not just scared for me. Whenever I see another pregnant women, especially farther along, I'm terrified for them. I hope desperately that they have a positive pregnancy outcome.”
As my pregnancy continues well into my second trimester now, these terrified feelings are not as strong. Cousins and friends of mine have shared their pregnancy news and I have once again felt that familiar sense of camaraderie, excitement, and solidarity of being pregnant alongside loved ones. With every pregnancy that I am interacting with, though, - even in the farthest periphery - I say a little prayer of protection over the expecting mother and children. I know how quickly life can come and be taken away and take nothing for granted.
In general, grieving while pregnant shares a similar pattern as before. There are good days with lots of laughter and clarity and peace. There are hard days when sadness is strong and tears flow. Sometimes, the good and the bad flow together just like the chocolate and vanilla swirls of soft-serve ice cream. Every day, I miss my child that died. Every day, I find ways to honor her memory. Blair is now not only a “little sister” to V and C but also a “big sister” to this baby #4 and any future babies to come. I am excited for our new future later this year as a family of six.
