"There is no heartbeat"
How to describe the feelings of the day you not only welcome your child, but also have to say goodbye to him.
First pregnancy, innocence and excitement. If everything looks good at the 12-week ultrasound and, on top of that, everything is perfect at the 20-week ultrasound too, nothing can go wrong? Well, yes, there are so many things that can go wrong that you're not even aware of, so you don't even worry because you think misfortunes happen to other people, why should it happen to me?
One day you wake up and feel that its movements inside you are different than usual, much gentler, but you're not afraid because you're almost 38 weeks pregnant; nothing can go wrong. We decided to get checked out and make sure everything was okay, and that's when you hear the hardest words anyone can hear in their life (and anyone who's been through this knows): "There's no heartbeat." At that moment, you don't understand anything because we had agreed that nothing could go wrong; your baby was already formed, it just had to decide when it wanted to meet you.
From this point on, you feel like everything is a decision you have to make, without knowing what is better or worse, letting yourself be carried away and blindly trusting the professionals who are attending to you at that moment.
Fortunately, we had the best people there could have been at that time, and within what we were experiencing, they knew how to be there at every moment in the most appropriate, respectful, and empathetic way.
At that moment, you can't believe that one of the first things they tell you is that they have to induce labor because that baby has to be born. Your first thought is to have a C-section and get out of there, go home, erase everything—this can't be happening to me.
You ask yourself different questions. If you can, you think about the future and what would be best. After considering the situation, you blame yourself for thinking about the future.
That's when they really need to help you, to understand, to give you time to accept it, to encourage you to get to know your baby, to hold him, to take pictures of him… because for all of this, you need time to understand that it will help you in the coming months, for your entire life. You're at a point in your life where, if you had a stop button, you'd press it. Your mind might make you think you're not there, but time will take you back to the delivery room.
Your task now is to try to understand what's happening around you before the race of time confronts you with what's going on. Even so, not everyone is able to understand and accept it during those hours of labor.
October 11, 2019, while undoubtedly the worst day of my life, was also one of the most beautiful, because I met my first child, my precious baby. Everything you doubted you could do becomes second nature, because what you hold in your arms is your child, the one who will always be with you wherever you go.
The only difference from other births is that when you give birth, there are no cries from the baby; everything is silent. It's a moment for mom, dad, and your baby. We get to know each other, we caress each other, we kiss each other, so that we can move on, because this isn't something to erase from your life, because your child existed and you love them.
The hard work comes later, when you leave the hospital, your little bubble, to face reality. You're afraid to go out and meet all those people whose first thought is to ask about your baby. How do you explain it without it hurting? It's impossible. When you get home, you find a room made just for you, and the questions return, the "how?" the "what if?" When you meet the first people, you tell them one way, and you see that it hurts because of how you said it and because of their reaction. You change the way you say it, trying different approaches, one by one, through the harsh lessons of reality, and finally, you find those words that make you feel safe and strong.
In our case, the psychological support offered by the hospital itself was very helpful, and after a few months, we started attending Mutual Support Groups (GAM) with the Petits amb llum association. There you find parents in the same situation as you, who might be able to put words to what you're feeling, words you haven't yet been able to verbalize.
The next tough step, and a difficult one at that, is getting pregnant again. You want to be a mother or father again and fulfill that role, but at what cost? You have to be prepared to face fears you didn't even consider during your previous pregnancy, and that's okay. It's legitimate to be afraid because those nine months will be a constant battle. This is when you have to trust completely and blindly in the professionals who will be monitoring you; there's no other option. Everything will be alright. Allow yourself to get excited and enjoy it as much as you can. You don't always have to be happy; it's a long and difficult road, but you'll make it.
The unity and support of family and your surroundings is very important, but what will definitely give you peace of mind is going with your partner because it is a shared desire and there is nothing better than the mutual support and peace of mind you can give each other.
Every year, five million babies die worldwide during pregnancy, childbirth, or in the first few days after birth. Families often navigate their perinatal grief in silence and alone. Despite the complexity and difficulty of supporting these situations, it is vital to raise awareness of perinatal death , ensure families receive adequate emotional, legal, and medical support , and gradually eliminate the taboo surrounding it. This is why October 15th is observed as World Pregnancy, Infant and Toddler Remembrance Day.
