The Longevity of Grief

The 20th of July is Matthew’s 11th birthday, but he died more than 10 hours before his birth. He died the day before he was born. That isn’t the story of his loss though. That isn’t the complete history of grief.

With weeks of complications piling up, I went into preterm labor. My placenta abrupted, and I began to hemorrhage. I was white as a sheet and couldn’t hold my head up. His nursery was nearly ready, his car seat purchased, and his crib was on the way. It didn’t matter though, because he had been deprived of oxygen and died.No one tells you that life continues whether you agree with the direction or not. No one tells you that you may survive the unthinkable. My life was a train barreling down the tracks when it derailed.

Living with PTSD means I can remember horrific details. It means I relive it over and over and over again. I was alone and lost, but my husband found me deep in my grief and propped me up. My saving grace was the loss support group we attended, and the women of “The Dead Baby Club”. With their similar stories, they normalized the very taboo subject of miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant loss.

So many people think it ends there. I was alive, my relationship intact, I had a group of people who knew what I was going through, and the support of a therapist. …