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Lindsey M. Henke | The Motherhood Therapist
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The Psychology of Pregnancy After Loss
What I Want You to Know about Pregnancy After Loss
Let Me Be Your Story Listener
There were no baby showers, preparing of the nurse
I can be BOTH mad at my body for losing my baby A
Emily Nagoski, PhD and her sister Amelia Nagoski,
The ultrasound tech asked, “Do you want to know
Elizabeth Kubler-Ross came up with the five stages
Being pregnant after a loss is a blessing but can
“Congratulations!” said my primary provider du
![There were no baby showers, preparing of the nursery, or taking birthing classes.
We were too afraid to jinx this baby’s arrival with preparing for a future that wasn’t guaranteed. We already had all the items we needed from our previous baby. They were perfectly placed and untouched in this new baby’s bedroom, right where we left them just 15 months before. But, as the weeks drew closer to her birth, we hesitantly chose to take little leaps of a faith that this baby might live.
There was a gender reveal party and a coming home outfit all her own that we placed in a hospital bag. It was packed just two weeks before her arrival. We did some little things deliberately to let in the light of joy during days that were often still shrouded by darkness and fear.
We even made a birth plan, which now felt like an oxymoron, but we went ahead with creating one anyway. This time it was a birth plan with a clause in it for losing a baby that we hoped we wouldn’t have to use.
Lub dub. Lub dub.
I could hear my heart beating in my ears as my eyes stayed focused on the surgical lamp above. In it, I could see the reflection of my OB-GYN lacerating my abdomen.
Within seconds of the incision, I heard the most sacred sound, the wailing of my second daughter’s lungs gasping for her first breath.
“Is she OK?! Is she OK?!” I would repeat a hundred more times as my husband leaned down and kissed my forehead, his tears mixing with mine.
After the nurses tossed her back and forth like a football over the scale and wrapped her in a receiving blanket, they placed her on my chest. Her skin touched mine.
“She’s so warm. So warm,” I said in disbelief that this baby was not cool to the touch like my other.
I searched her face for a person who was not there, disoriented by grief and how the past can show up in the present. I hoped for a moment I was meeting my first daughter once again. The dissociation only lasted a second. Within a heartbeat, my soul filled with joy and connected to the new little bundle of life we had created. [Continued in comments]](https://lindseymhenke.com/wp-content/plugins/instagram-feed/img/placeholder.png)