Imagine a mother who sees for the first time not one, but two, pink lines on her pregnancy test. She is full of joy and nervous anticipation. Ready and willing to bring life into this world.
Imagine a mother whose body swells with anticipation as life courses through her veins and love encompasses her heart. Her belly growing bigger with each passing day waiting to meet her unborn child.
Imagine a mother full of beauty and hope for the child she tenderly cares for in her womb, as she caresses her enlarged tummy and embraces her pregnant body. Gently whispering her hopes and dreams for her child to her womb as her husband sleeps peacefully next to them both at night.
Imagine a mother being held by the father of their unborn child as they look in to their newly prepared nursery, the nest they have created together, for their future family member. Their shared true love. Their child.
Imagine a mother praying to God, the Universe, the air, to whoever will listen. Asking for safety and guidance as she prepares for her little one’s impending entrance into this world.
When I was asked to write a guest blog, I was honored, but a bit intimidated and plagued with writer’s block. While trying to figure out what would be interesting to those at OC Walk to Remember, I thought I could address who I ‘remember.’ For my husband and I and our families, we will always remember our first son Garrett. He was stillborn at 37 weeks in July 2004. We were blindsided and spent the next several months trying to sort out what had happened, learning how to process a kind of grief we had never known, and working really hard to take life one day at a time. This is a story I know happens over and over, every single day. While each story has its own twist, I’m continually saddened by the similarities in the stories. So, then I thought that I could address how I ‘walk.’ While our story may be the same as so many other families, we each choose our own path to ‘walk’. And it’s that walk that has brought me a sense of peace and purpose.
In my ‘real’ job, I am a Pediatric Nurse Practitioner. While, I was extremely grateful for all of the grief resources available to us, my brain was wired to ask about why this happened and what could be done to prevent it. In the first few months after our loss, I, like so many mothers, could barely function let alone answer these questions. Almost nine years later, I am starting to address them. For us, our ‘walk’ began with a simple golf tournament. Our goal was to honor and remember our son in a way that our family would enjoy. We chose to have a fun golf tournament to celebrate Garrett’s brief time in our lives. Over the years, it grew and has morphed into the Star Legacy Foundation. Over that time, we have been fortunate to meet phenomenal researchers and too many beautiful families affected by these tragedies.
My name is Ingrid Norrmann-Vigil, and I’m a Ph.D. student in the Department of Applied Linguistics at UCLA. I’m currently studying narratives of trauma, medical communication, and how men whose partner/spouse have experienced a pregnancy loss recall the experience and their interactions with medical personnel. The idea for this study started from my own experience; I miscarried on September 2011 and again on May 2012. After noticing the lack of emotional support not only from medical personnel, but also from some people close to me, I started researching on the subject. I’m currently enrolling men for my research study. To be eligible for this study, he must:
• Be 18 years of age or older
•Have a partner who has experienced at least one pregnancy loss
•Be willing to be audio and video recorded during the interview
If you would like to participate, you’ll be asked to complete a brief demographic questionnaire and I’ll interview you for approximately 30 to 45 minutes. During the interview, I’ll ask you questions regarding the loss, your partner’s experience, how you recall the interaction with medical personnel, and also how you coped with it. The meeting will take place at a mutually agreed upon time and place. The interview will be digitally audio and video recorded to accurately reflect on what is discussed; the recordings will only be reviewed by members of the research team who will transcribe and analyze them. The materials will then be destroyed unless you authorize otherwise in a written consent form you’ll be given prior to the interview.
I’m aware this is not an easy topic to talk about. You may feel uncomfortable answering some of the questions, but you do not have to answer any questions you don’t wish to. Although you probably won’t benefit directly from participating in this study, I hope the findings will benefit couples who in the future go through this unfortunate experience.
Thank you so much for your time and for considering my request!
I acknowledge the fathers like me, who have had a miscarriage and/or stillbirth, and those fathers who have lost a child at birth or in infancy. Father’s Day without a child can be just as difficult for a father as Mother’s Day is for a mother. We need to be sensitive to the needs of fathers, too. So I say this to my fellow fathers, I share in your sorrow this Father’s Day and validate you all in fatherhood.
Thank you STILL Project for once again breaking the silence on behalf of all father’s and those struggling to have a child. This is truly an inspiring and positive influence that should be seen by all men who have walked this dark path or find themselves walking through this pain now.
Written by Adam, blogger: Dazed Dad-Reflections on Family Fatherhood, Loss & Grief
I’m not really sure how to blog about something as tragic as Sarah and I have experienced in the past few days – yet, I feel the need to begin to share our experience. Perhaps it’s part of my grieving process. Perhaps it’s so that I can hear from others who may have gone through something similar. I don’t know – but below is one of the hardest things I have ever experienced.
On Sunday, October 24, at around 1:15pm, Sarah’s bag of water broke, although we didn’t know it at the time. We weren’t really sure what had happened, so we went to Labor & Delivery in Walnut Creek. After a few different tests, the doctor pulled a stool over and sat down next to the bed. It was at that moment, that I knew that we were in for some bad news. There was something about the way the doctor sat down on the stool, and began to share with us the news…
