Pregnancy after loss is incredibly hard under the best of circumstances, though I’m not sure “the best of circumstances” actually exist when a major factor in becoming pregnant again is the loss of a baby.
The idea that your baby could die isn’t just an irrational fear, it’s a reality that has been experienced first-hand.
People say things to you like:
“Everything will be fine.”
“This time will be different.”
“I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”
But those of us who have experienced a pregnancy where nothing was okay and everything went terribly wrong, know there are no promises. Even when life feels stable, good.
Tragedy doesn’t pick and choose its victims based on past experience or whose turn it should be. It strikes whenever and whomever it pleases. And it can certainly strike the same person more than once.
When you’re pregnant after loss, everything feels scary. Everything feels like a threat. Because you know that no matter how well you take care of yourself and your baby—no matter how healthy you both appear—you truly can’t control whether your baby lives or dies.
So if there ever was a time to check on your friend who is pregnant after loss, it’s now. When the whole world is out of control, almost unrecognizable. When everyone is scared and uncertain about what comes next. When the threat of illness and death continues to increase. When tragedy is unfolding minute-by-minute from the other side of our screens.
We’ve been told that only the most vulnerable are at risk, but that doesn’t help when you’re carrying a very vulnerable unborn baby. Especially when you’ve lost a very vulnerable unborn baby before.
So check on your friend who is pregnant after loss. Now.
She’s afraid her baby will become the next victim of coronavirus.
She’s afraid to go to necessary medical appointments, wondering if the air and offices are contaminated with a deadly virus.
She’s afraid she’ll have to give birth without her partner or other support people.
She’s afraid to go to the hospital, wondering who or what she might unknowingly come into contact with.
She’s afraid there won’t even be room for her at the hospital.
She’s afraid her medical needs or that of her baby won’t be met.
She’s afraid of bringing a baby into this strange new world.
She’s afraid she won’t be able to get diapers or formula or any other number of necessities when needed.
She’s afraid of taking care of a newborn alone, without the help of her mom, grandma, sister, or friend.
She’s afraid her baby is going to die.
I guarantee you she felt alone before, because believe it or not, pregnancy after loss can be an incredibly isolating experience. But now, in the age of social distancing, your pregnant after loss friend feels incredibly alone, unseen, and unsettled.
So check in with her. Because she’s not okay.
As she attempts to convince herself that another of her precious babies isn’t going to die, the state of the world seems to become more dire, telling her otherwise.
And she needs to hear from you.