Isha’s mom shares her heartbreaking stillbirth experience at 34 weeks into pregnancy and the aftermath of her loss so vividly and beautifully.
This one’s for you. Your journey into our lives.
225 days of sheer joy. The happiest and most memorable days of our lives.
You came into our lives after six years of marriage through our second IUI.
Our family of two was going to be a family of three.
An arranged marriage with its own up’s and down’s. We were just sailing through our lives. I was diagnosed with endometriosis and an immediate laparoscopy procedure eventually led us to seek fertility treatment.
With both our medical issues, age and stress, it was a pleasant surprise that our second IUI was successful. We saw those pink lines on Dec 11th. You clinged on to me from the beginning only to lose you at the end.
We have struggled together through GDM, Pregnancy-induced hypertension, and IUGR.
It was a tough journey, but anything for you. Till 34 weeks we kept our fingers crossed for each check-up.
Finally, everything was falling into place. Those last 2 weeks were too good to be true. Then came the day which we will never forget in our lives (if not for Alzheimer’s Pun intended ).
I read those dreaded words IUFD (IntraUterine Fetal Demise). Our hearts sank.
But we still hoped against all odds. We hoped for a miracle.
We were advised to go for a c section (now I feel it was not the right decision).
My Isha was shown to me. She was so perfect.
But we were not lucky enough to have you. You were born with no cries. We will never get to know the color of your eyes or see the sparkle of your smile.
I lost a part of myself with you Isha. I lost my smile with you.
I lost my humor with you.
We miss you each and every moment. I feel so guilty to even smile.
To be alive in this world when you haven’t been given the chance.
We still don’t have answers to our questions. Why did it happen?
Did I do something wrong? How long were you lying inside me dead?
The guilt was killing me. All I wanted was to die. I still do.
I can’t forget the insensitive way in which the hospital ICU nurses talked while I was recovering from anesthesia.
My Isha has been dead for 2 days inside me.
OMG, I just wanted to kill myself then. Then my doctor clarified it. The way hospital staff suggested to your father to give you to the corporation. Just to dump you like that. We wanted to give you a proper funeral.
The way they just kept my baby in a tub without cleaning as if she was a surgical waste.
We can never forget it. We don’t even have a proper picture. The one I have breaks my heart into pieces each time I see it. We thought this was the tough phase. Then came the toughest phase.
Even our immediate family didn’t accept my Isha as a human who was born dead.
They didn’t accept the fact that I have become a mother to an Angel even though I didn’t get to hold her, hug her, feed her or kiss her.
How much I miss that!!
We will name our next baby girl Isha-my husband said. One family wanted to plan a wedding and another wanted us to plan for another child.
I just wanted to scream.
I lost my baby. Let me mourn. Let me grieve.
Isha was born and is gone!!!!! Please accept it.
But being the person I am, I couldn’t.
Then I met Elliot’s mom. I am sure my Isha did that for me. I vented out my emotions and I felt understood. Not judged.
People told me that so and so lost a baby, had an abortion and now have a healthy child.
I am sorry for their loss. I really am. I will not wish this upon my worst enemy.
I say a silent prayer every time I see a pregnant woman. But my loss is mine.
I don’t want to belittle it by comparing it to anybody else’s loss.
People also said, “You will have another child, start treatment now.”
Oh please, I am so damn scared. I am wounded deeply.
I know how tough the journey was for IUI.
It was a lone battle for me! I really don’t have the strength to fight for it again now.
Some even said, “It’s good that you lost your baby now, what if you lost her later, or worse still what if she had some disability.”
I don’t know what to say to these people. If you don’t know what to say – Don’t say anything. A tight hug, patient LISTENING. If nothing else keep us in your prayers.
I am still struggling. There are days when I feel hopeful, days when I feel I should be grateful for things I have and then there are days where I just can’t look at myself because I hate the mother who failed her baby.
I don’t even know what to pray for anymore, still, I pray for you Isha, and for all the angel babies and their parents. Isha, my firstborn and my love forever. Thanks for sending Elliot’s mom into my life. I am at last able to write my emotions now.
To all moms of angels in heaven
Be kind to YOURSELF
Be brave for Your Sake
Have faith and be patient. Most importantly lots of love and tight, warm squishes.