“I gave birth to our first born, a son, who was stillborn…”

“In December 2013, I gave birth to our first born, a son, who was stillborn. After trying for a little over a year, it was a really devastating situation to come to terms with.”

Pictured are the mother and her doula.

“My life pivoted when I returned home with my husband, completely empty-armed. But it didn’t stop me from trying everything in my power to continue to nurture my life without him. I wanted to be able to be the best mother I could be, and embracing motherhood without my baby was my goal, and I never looked back.”


“Loss doesn’t make you any less of a mother. It’s hard for people to understand this concept, I feel, and further understand that the loss does not define me or my body or how I feel about myself when I wake up. I wish and hope to be able to show that women who have had a loss like I have can embrace their children and themselves and that they can also look upon their experience and learn from it instead of running away.”


“I think that having a doula is so important when you are going to be having a baby. No matter what choice you choose – medicated or not medicated, c-section (planned or unplanned) having another woman who is there to comfort you, guide you and unconditionally rally for you is so vital to birth. My doula was no exception, especially when my labor turned for the worst and we lost our son’s heart tones and he passed away.”


“She was the first person who told me without any hesitation, without a thimble of doubt, that I am a mother, even if my son cannot be in my arms today. And I really took that to heart, I took her wisdom of transforming from maiden to mother very, very seriously. Since I did that, I never doubted my motherhood from that day on. I don’t know the kind of person I would be, or how I would’ve struggled with motherhood if it wasn’t for that cosmic moment. I really feel that everything happens for a reason, and my love for my doula during those dark times really helped fuel the person I am today.”


“I have learned to love tears. Tears burn, they’re salty, and messy and magical. They make you feel broken, they make you feel whole. They show up when you’re sad or when you’re happy.”


“I work every day to try to remember my son, and I embrace everything he’s ever given me. I’m thankful for the woman he’s allowed me to become, and I feel so blessed to be able to stand among other women and enjoy motherhood with them.”


“Loss isn’t just about sadness. For me, tears are a vessel, a cleanse, a release. And sharing them with someone else is so sacred and beautiful. My son showed me that crying isn’t an action to be ashamed about. He showed me that it’s a moment to embrace, and I can say with conviction I am more whole person because of that.”


“My son has only been gone for about a year and a half, and I still struggle daily with the way my stomach looks. When I was pregnant, I worked to embrace the idea of having stretch marks, and even the idea that I may need to have a c-section to deliver him, but coming home with multiple battle wounds and no baby was the most difficult reality I’ve ever had to overcome.”


“I try more to advocate to women as a whole, that we all have our hardships and we are never alone. And while no two stories are the same, we can always rally for each other and love each other and the gifts our children (alive or not) bring to us.”


“I’ve always believed a woman’s body is a temple, and I know that women tend to have a skewed idea of what beauty is, but I’ve actively chosen to engage in projects like this to be able to embrace the new me. The woman I am today is wonderful, smart, beautiful, funny and courageous. She has fought in many battles and has persevered. And to be honest, I really love who I am, scars and all.”


“It’s taken this time to realize that every mother’s journey is their own. Yeah, I lost my first baby in labor, had to have a traumatic birth instead of the home birth I planned. I had a bowel obstruction as a result of the c-section, presumably because of a mistake on the surgeon’s part. But you know what? That’s MY journey.”


“I’ve walked a road that has no name. There’s no right and wrong, it’s just a journey that continues and changes every day. Every day I am faced with a choice of how I am going to rememeber Alex and how I am going to allow myself to be defined by him not being here. Every day I choose to remember him and I choose to persevere.”


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