Losing a child is not easy. It’s one of those things that completely go against the cycle of life. A child should not leave the world before his or her parent, right? We, the ones with the older bones and who have already lived should expire before our offspring so they can have their chance to smell the flowers, make their mistakes and experience what we have already had a chance to. The pain is no different when you lose a little person that has been growing inside of you. There is no amount of time- no matter how little- that makes it OK to lose that precious life. Whether you lose the baby at four weeks or at thirty six; that life is precious.
Admittedly, losing a pregnancy when you have come to term is a different experience from a mother that has lost her child at a few weeks. I cannot imagine the kind of pain and/or trauma that puts you through, but today I’d like to take time to say that whether you lost your child at 9 weeks- like I did- or 36 weeks like a friend of mine did, at the end of the day, that little person is a life we will not forget.
I am not writing this so you can feel “woishe” for me or that other mother, but because those little souls are not forgotten and just because we don’t name them or count them as we proudly declare those in our brood doesn’t mean we do not think of them. It doesn’t mean that they do not matter or that we do not pray or thank God for them despite the fact that we knew them for the briefest of periods. Also, and perhaps the main reason I am here today, so that a mother that has been through this can know that she is not alone. That keeping your sorrow and pain locked up in your bedroom with you or buried deep within your blankets is OK and that once you are ready to talk to someone we are here to help you get through it.
Kamau was about 9 months old when I found out I was pregnant. My initial thought: OMG! What will people think?! Horribly selfish, right? I blamed myself for this thought for months after I went through my D&E procedure. Maybe if I hadn’t been so selfish, God wouldn’t have taken my little baby away. I cried myself to sleep many nights after I’d told everyone that I was OK. I had just began getting excited about having another baby- wondering if I’d have another boy or perhaps a little girl- when I noticed that I was bleeding. I called my sister and she told me that it might just be spotting and I must not panic, but advised me to call my OBGYN. I called Dr. Kinyua as soon as I got home and he told me he wanted to see me first thing in the morning, but also told me not to worry as it might just be spotting. I knew something was wrong, Blogiary and I prayed and told God that I would never again react to news of a pregnancy as I had. I felt certain I was being punished for being so ungrateful. I woke up really early on Tuesday (yes, I still remember the day of the week) and to my horror I was really bleeding. The doctor at Karen Hospital didn’t want to confirm the worst until he was certain and because their scan machine wasn’t working, asked us to try the Nairobi Hospital at Bomas. We went to my OBGYN instead and he confirmed that we’d lost the baby.
You are not prepared for the emotions that run through you when a doctor confirms that you’ve lost a pregnancy. I blamed myself for so long and to date I still feel like it was my fault somehow. They tell you not to tell people you’re pregnant before you get to 12 weeks, but I’d told my entire family and a few friends as soon as I’d gotten over the initial shock of being pregnant so soon. I feel like I jinxed it; like I did so many things wrong and was punished in return. I sometimes sit and wonder what my life would be like now if I’d had him/her. I will never forget.
My friend suffered from pre-eclampsia and lost her child at 36 weeks. I’ve promised her that I would talk about mine and her loss here because she told me that it’s hard to talk to people about her experience especially because of a certain situation they are in. Think about it, Blogiary. You want to speak to a person that will really understand what you’re going through yet you don’t want to give your pregnant friend a story about losing a child, your friends with kids look they’re living the life so who do you turn to? I’m saying it here today that sometimes opening up to someone may- along with helping you heal- also help another person, whether directly or indirectly, so don’t be afraid to talk about it. Also, no loss is less significant. It affects all of us despite our varying situations, circumstances or experiences. When sharing my experience with my friend, I closed by saying that my loss doesn’t come close to hers, but she told me that even at 4 weeks, that was still your child and you still feel the pain and should not be ashamed to mourn that life.
I had a cup of tea a few months back with another friend that said she wasn’t sure she wanted to have a child. When I prodded, she confessed to having lost a baby from a fall. I understand her fear only too well. When you are so afraid of going through that loss all over again and you think you’re better off not trying for another child. I felt this way for a while too, but the older Kamau gets the more I feel in my heart that fear cannot keep me away from wanting to watch another little person grow.
I’d also like to say that if/when you are pregnant, listen to your body, gut feeling and most importantly your baby if you are at the point where baby has started kicking. My blog began as a means of keeping up with my baby in terms of establishing a rhythm- when he would wake up, when and how many times he would kick throughout the day. Dr. Kinyua had told me that this is the only way you can tell if something is wrong with your baby. I wrote those times RELIGIOUSLY every single day also because Mwangi, being in Juba, wanted a record each day so he too would know little Pan (this was our name for him back then) and I were well. If this rhythm is off by a few beats in a day, especially in your 3rd trimester, then it just may be that baby is a bit tired. If the rhythm is way off or you feel a bit worried something isn’t right, don’t think twice; rush to the emergency room. You’d rather have them tell you it’s nothing than wait til it’s too late. Listen to your body also. I have low BP generally and during my final month (when pregnant with Kamau) I had an episode where I assumed I was just fatigued when in truth I had an extremely low BP and had to be admitted for a few days. If I hadn’t called Mwangi on my way home, and had he not insisted that I go to the emergency room, I don’t know what would have happened to little Pan and I. I also met a lady recently (her daughter and Kamau were born on the same day) who told me that she ignored a pain she’d had on the side of her belly, writing it off as pregnancy issues when in fact her baby was in breach and she had to have an emergency Caesarian Section. Don’t wait until your clinic day is due or til the OBGYN you’re seeing is free, don’t even sit in traffic waiting to drive all the way to wherever you’re taking your clinic appointments when there’s a hospital near you. Get help wherever you can if you’re worried that something’s amiss.
I hope that this post encourages any mother that has been through losing a little one in whatever circumstance. It’s private, I know, which is why I’ve never spoken about it here, but talking about it with your husband or boyfriend, a family member or friend, could really be just what you need to let go of the pain and start the process towards healing.
You are not alone.
xoxo!
Raising Kamau! 