The loss of a beautiful baby boy

After twenty hours of labour, through natural birth, a beautiful baby boy was born.

Imagine it. Have you been there? The birthing suite with the soft pastel walls, dim lighting, the soft hushed tones of the midwives, and the posters depicting tiny babies in their mothers arms, promoting "breast is best".

That final push before your baby will be in your arms at last!

Only there is no sound.

Only silence.

Silence broken by the hushed voice of the doctor, “I’m so sorry for your loss”.

I still cry when I think about it. 

I remember it like it was yesterday. My husband and I were out shopping. Our son Max, just three weeks old, lay sleeping in his pram, wrapped in layers of muslin, the labour still fresh in our memory.

My husband received the call. Our friend’s baby had died.

After twelve hours of excruciating labour, the baby’s heartbeat had stopped. It was unexplainable. The doctors declared that her baby had died “in-utero”.

Can you imagine how that must have felt? There was no time to process it. The contractions were still coming thick and fast. A baby needed to be born.

It was eight heart-wrenching hours after the shattering revelation, through harrowing contractions, when their son was finally born. He was gently wrapped in a hospital blanket, and placed upon her chest.

They never tell you how the feather light weight of a tiny newborn baby can crush your heart and soul.

What happens now?

Isn’t it every parents dream to take that first trip in the car with their baby, a trip home from hospital to their beautifully decorated nursery, where furniture, linen and toys have been chosen with thoughtful love and care.

What happens now?

A drive home in silence? A closed door at the end of the hall where dreams lay shattered behind it?

And then like a twisting knife in the chest, a cruel reminder that mother nature lays upon you, the milk that was intended for your baby arrives.

The sadness and grief my husband and I felt for our devastated friends poured over us like acid rain. We stood in David Jones, the sobs erupting from us both, causing shoppers to stop and stare. We didn’t care. At that moment we were overwhelmed with gratitude that our son had arrived safely and was alive and healthy.

As friends' of someone who has devastatingly dealt with the death of her baby, here are some reminders that may help to lessen the inevitable sadness that follows such a tragedy.

• Cry, as often and as long as you need to.
• Denial, isolation, anger and depression are all normal steps in the grieving process
• Fathers grieve too.
• We don’t have to face the world alone.
• Know that no one who hasn’t lost a baby can understand what it feels like.

The wonderful book What to Expect When You're Expecting has a really helpful chapter dedicated to the loss of a baby.

Like a gift from the angels, our friend is pregnant again with her second child. We know that this baby can never take the place of the one that was lost, but it will be just as loved and just as adored. By all.

Your comments below are always gratefully received.