I work as a hospital chaplain, and even got my start in OB/NICU care, I knew stillbirth happened. What I didn’t know is stillbirth occurs in about 1/160 pregnancies… I didn’t know until it happened to me; until my daughter Rayna died at 33 weeks. I also didn’t know that in about 50% of those stillbirths a known medical cause is never found until we found ourselves in the group of unknowns. This blog is about my experience with pregnancy loss, pregnancy after loss, and navigating the ambiguity of grief.
This blog has three purposes to me:
- This can be a place for me to write about and share as many details of our parenthood journey and how the experiences of our pregnancies and losses impact me, my spouse, our families, and those around us. I hope this will be a meaningful opportunity to share my story, even if no one else reads the blog.
- This can be a place other baby loss mommas come to feel less alone. I am not an expert; I am not a physician. I am merely a woman grieving the loss of her daughter. For me, reading stories of other women in the weeks and months following Rayna’s death was immensely helpful. Through those blogs, I was reminded I am not alone, and my feelings are normal. I hope this can be a similar space for others.
- This can be a place where those around pregnancy loss–family, friends, coworkers–gain insight into the loss and pregnancy after loss experience and explore how to help.
Rayna’s Sunset comes from the gorgeous sunset that appeared over my parent’s farm the evening we found out Rayna died (pictured below). My spouse believes the sunset was Rayna’s way of saying goodbye, and therefore it holds a lot of meaning for us. Even now, sunsets each day remind us of our baby girl and the love we have for her.
I’ve never blogged before, so I might post too often, or not enough. I might grow tired of this or have good intentions, but forget about the project entirely. I will certainly make mistakes. Overall, I hope this blog brings peace to all who stumble across it.