This series of personal stories from parents who have suffered pregnancy or baby loss holds space for talking about loss and grief and remembering our babies gone too soon.
In sharing their stories about their pregnancy journeys, feelings and insights, these parents are beginning to exorcise the double demons of silence and ignorance that afflict so many conversations in the space of pregnancy and baby loss.
Parents share their journeys and the lessons they have learned about grief, parenthood, friendship and living after the death of their baby. They tell us how they have changed, who they have become, and what truly matters now.
Angel Ezra with his parents
I found out I was pregnant on a random Wednesday afternoon after work. It was our first month of trying, so it was a huge surprise to be holding a positive pregnancy test.
I told my husband [we were pregnant] the next afternoon by making a bandana for our dog that said ‘Big Sister’.
It was a shock for both of us, but we were over the moon.
I had a pretty easy pregnancy. During the first trimester I had a lot of morning sickness, which eased up halfway through the second trimester. I did have marginal cord insertion, which we were told not to worry about - but we got to have two extra ultrasounds, which we were excited for. We loved seeing our baby on the screen!
I was so incredibly excited to become a mother. This is something I had always dreamed of. I imagined all the things we would do together and how we would spend our days.
I never ever imagined that I would never get to experience all the firsts with our first born child.
I went into labour on the evening of Monday the 27th November. I always joked that I would work right up to giving birth, and it just so happened to be my first day of maternity leave.
I laboured at home until the early hours of Wednesday morning, when we called our midwife, as I couldn’t remember when I last felt him move.
We rushed into the hospital, but I still didn’t believe anything could be wrong. We were on the home stretch. As soon as we got into the hospital, our midwife tried to find his heartbeat on the CTG monitors. She brought in two doctors who tried to find his heartbeat on a bedside ultrasound machine.
One of the doctors turned to us a few seconds later and said the six words that I will never forget – “I’m sorry, there is no heartbeat”.
My husband and I were in shock and we just held each other, crying.
Before we knew we had lost Ezra, my labour was exactly as I had envisioned. I was labouring at home with my husband right beside me, only using non-pharmaceutical pain relief.
Once we knew he had passed away, I just wanted to be out of physical pain.
It took a while for that to happen though – I was given an epidural at 4pm. My mum, dad, dad's partner, sister and sister's partner all came to the hospital and spent time with my husband and I. My husband spent most of the day beside me – we actually had to persuade him to take a break, which was short lived as he rushed back upstairs when they had to redo my epidural.
We felt numb this whole day and just went through the steps of what we needed to do to give birth. I am so thankful we were surrounded by loved ones.
The birth of Ezra was beautiful. My husband was in the room, as well as three midwives. There was crying, but there was also a lot of laughter and happiness. We were given skin to skin and my husband was able to cut the umbilical cord.
I will never forget looking at Ezra right after he was born, wishing I could hear him cry.
We named our son Ezra Alexander Knight - Ezra being the only name my husband and I could agree on by the time he was born. Alexander is the same middle name as my husband.
I felt numb when I first held him. I wished more than anything that he would start crying. I couldn’t believe that I was holding my son who wasn’t alive.
He looked just like his dad – so much so that it was one of the first things the midwives commented on when I gave birth to him. He looked perfect – a little button nose, red lips, chubby cheeks, long limbs, fingernails that I am jealous of. He weighed 2,390 grams and was 46cm long. Perfect.
We got to visit him a week later, after he had come back from his autopsy. It was lovely to spend time with just the three of us. I felt less numb on this day and was able to soak up our last moments with our son.
We read to him, sang him songs, and cuddled him. I remember walking out of the hospital and still not being able to accept that I would never see and hold my baby ever again.
Baby loss is lonely. I remember the day after I gave birth, googling stillbirth and seeing that six families go through this every day in Australia. Yet, we didn’t know anyone. People can try to understand, but unless you have gone through baby loss, I don’t think you can truly ever understand.
I have since reached out to other bereaved families, and their support and understanding have helped on this journey.
Losing our son made my husband and I so much closer. We have made sure to communicate what we are feeling and to never tell each other that how we are grieving is wrong.
We lent into each other in our darkest days and no topic was ever off limits. We continue to speak about Ezra every day and to check in on each other.
Baby loss showed me the people I want in our lives. It showed me the people who are there for us in our toughest days. We were surrounded by love and support, but we were also let down by some people.
I understand that people don’t know what to say, but saying nothing is so much worse. We really noticed the people who didn’t reach out.
We also lost a lot of trust in the healthcare profession, after finding out there was negligence and there is no reason Ezra shouldn’t be here.
Baby loss also shifted my priorities a lot. Things that used to be a big deal seem like nothing now. I continue to honour Ezra every day and will always protect his memory.
I wish we were more educated on all the things that can go ‘wrong’. We were blissfully unaware of all of this during my pregnancy; thinking once we hit 12 weeks and then 20 weeks that everything was okay.
We spoke about what I would want if I passed away during labour, but not once did we think about our son dying.
I wish we had been more educated on pregnancy in general and didn’t just rely on healthcare professionals. Maybe if we had known more we would have asked more questions and things wouldn’t have been neglected.
To a parent who has been recently bereaved I would say: you are not alone. There is a whole community of bereaved parents who are there to support you. Reach out. It is okay if your grief looks different to others. We all grieve differently and there is no right or wrong way.
If all you did during the day was get up and shower, that is fine. Do what you need to do to survive each day.
As for our Possum Portrait, I am always amazed by the generosity of people and organisations in the baby loss community. Receiving a beautiful portrait of our family and being able to share our story in a safe place helps keep Ezra’s memory alive - as well as spreading awareness and showing other bereaved families that they are not alone.
Our portrait will hang proudly in our house for everyone to see.
We do not have any living children yet, but I am currently pregnant with our rainbow twin girls. They will know all about their big brother right from the beginning. He is and always will be a part of their lives.
I hope that other bereaved families can read our story and know they are not alone. I hope that the rate of preventable stillbirths can decrease with education from our story and others.
Ezra, I carried you every second of your life, and I will love you every second of mine. I will look for you in sunflowers, lady bugs and storms. Mum, dad, and big sister Zari love you to the moon and further, Ezzy.
Please consider donating and help give a
Possum Portrait to a family living with loss.
Comments