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Challenge: Pregnancy and Infant Loss

Finding the strength to tell my stillbirth story

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After 18 years, I finally have the strength to tell the story.

From a thriving heartbeat to no heartbeat.

At 7 months pregnant. There must be a mistake.

From doctor’s office to emergency room. I prayed Lord help me.

There must be a mistake.

From heartbeat monitor to ultrasound.

Still no heartbeat. I continued to pray.

Because, there must be a mistake.

From emergency room to delivery room.

There must be a mistake.

I was induced to deliver a life that was determined to be no more.

There must be a mistake.

Surely at any moment I would wake up from this nightmare and everything would be okay.

And after what seemed like hours and hours of labor. It was as if my own heart had stopped, there I met him. For the first and last time.

A baby boy. 10 tiny fingers. 10 tiny toes. Perfectly formed. With no signs of life.

It felt so unfair.

To carry a baby. And to go through full labor and delivery for a baby that I would never bring home.

I could not remember a time that I cried so hard. My heart ached so deeply.

It just wasn’t right. There must be a mistake.

But what seemed to be so surreal came to a screeching reality. And nothing could have prepared me for it.

I stared at my baby boy as if the reality that he was gone, would somehow change into a miracle of life.

Questions flooded my soul. With no answers, just grief.

Shock. Denial. Pain. Guilt. Blame. It was all there.

Lying there in a hospital bed on the labor and delivery room floor, where the sounds of babies rang through the walls, seemed to only add to the pain.

I wondered how someone could ever get over this.

I wondered if I could ever get over this.

I found that you never get over it but you can get through it.

You see prayer and time heals all wounds.

And I now have strength to tell the story.

It has taken me 18 years until now to share it. But healing takes time.

I pray for the Momma who may read this.

Know that you are loved. Know that you are never alone. Know that the light will shine again. Know that you too will heal.

And that you, too, will one day have the strength to tell your story.

I was graciously blessed with a baby girl 4 years after this experience and now have a family with 4 beautiful children.

And with God, strength to begin to tell my stories.


For more stories of inspiration, follow Natasha Smith on Facebook and Instagram.

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