To my pregnant friends and those with new babies

I know I’m a lot right now. My posts are heavy. They probably scare you. You might have hidden them from view. It’s alright. I understand. I remember finding a blog written by a mother who experienced stillbirth not too long ago and it terrified me. I shut the browser window immediately. Stillbirth was (and still is) my worst nightmare. And then it happened to me. And yes, it could happen to any of us, but it won’t happen to all of us.

There are so many of you - new friends, old friends, former colleagues and classmates, and yes, even other mom bloggers that I never really knew personally -expecting new babies this summer. I didn’t have this same community of pregnant friends the first time around. It made being pregnant with Blair even more special that I was able to share that season with you. One delivered in May, another in early June, two in July, a handful in August, and two more in September. Oddly, but I suppose this is just how God works, I met a 36-week pregnant mother expecting twins just one day before Blair died. We chatted on her driveway while I came to buy her stroller with our huge bellies and sundresses (because everyone knows that’s basically all that can fit at that stage of pregnancy!) and I felt instant friendship chemistry. I’m sure we were quite a sight. Neither of us seemed to want to stop chatting but my kiddos were getting antsy in the car as they waited. Little did we know that later that week we would find ourselves in the same hospital delivering our babies on the same day. I saw her birth news just as I was getting ready to push. She saw my stillbirth announcement a day later. Another fond memory is getting on a Zoom call with college pals and three of the four of us were pregnant and in our third trimesters.

Please know that I really enjoyed being an expectant mother with all of you. I will always treasure the memories of exchanging new ultrasound photos of our babies, when/if we found out if we were having boys or girls, physical changes we were experiencing, and all of the mixed emotions bringing a new baby or babies into our families. My heart does break when I see your babies online or your bellies about to pop but please know that you must never hide from me or feel guilty because your babies lived and mine died. Please don’t take me out of your circles. And please still reach out to me for newborn advice or anything you would have talked to me about if Blair had lived. I’m still here. Albeit with a shattered heart, but I’m still here. Please don’t isolate from me. I am still Blair’s mama after all. I was still pregnant alongside you. I’m still going through postpartum changes and milk that came in and still hasn’t really left, and I’m probably going to start getting that postpartum receding hairline again. Let’s still commiserate. Let’s still be joyful together at the what is still joyful in your lives and in mine.

And to my extra special college friend who just delivered her own baby #3 this week, thank you for being my friend through our last two pregnancies. I remember the chills I felt when I learned you were also expecting your own baby #3 just four days after Blair was expected to be due. Although for different reasons, neither of us at the time were mentally prepared for their arrivals and we bonded over our struggles. Please know that I feel our connection deeply and it will be a special day when/if I ever get the chance to meet your precious daughter. Somebody will have to bring us all the tissues.

There was and will always be times when I mourn Blair, please give me grace to do so. I write as a way to keep Blair’s memory alive and show that her life mattered and continues to matter. I’m sorry that my experiences likely gives you some fear and anxiety. That is not my intent and I hope you that your pregnancies and babies can still bring you great happiness as it did with Blair when she was alive and even still after Blair died. (Even in death, she was a beautiful baby.) But please hear me out when I talk about stillbirth. There is absolutely a stigma and silence about it and it is affecting how stillbirth is researched and handled worldwide. I do hope that my writing about Blair’s stillbirth and death empowers you to be vigilant of your babies’ movements and to trust your instincts if something feels not right. I pray in earnest for healthy outcomes of your pregnancies and healthy babies. I look forward to being a part of you and your babies’ lives in the years to come.

And if there is a moment down the line when you realize that Blair could have shared in a milestone that your child is having, say her name. Acknowledge her. Let me know you feel her absence, too. This keeps her memory alive forever and deepens our friendship and shared history of being pregnant alongside each other.

With love,

Maria