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Grieving the son I lost at full-term: how I learned to live again

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My pregnancy was completely uneventful until the last few days. First, I noticed that my fart smells like a rotten corpse and my poop smells even worst. No one dares to use the restroom after me. I also noticed that all the symptoms of pregnancy I was having in the last trimester of my pregnancy had stopped – instead, I started having strange feelings. Everything irritated me.

My husband and I got married the previous year after dating for nearly three years. A few weeks before our wedding, my husband got a promotion at work that came with six-figure take-home pay, an official car, a well-furnished apartment, and a yearly travel allowance. How good can our God be! I was working as a personal assistant to a famous event planner and it was at one of those events that I first met my husband. He had called for help and I was asked to assist him and the rest they say is history.

A few months after our wedding, we discovered we were pregnant. My husband and I have always loved children. We both have nieces and nephews that we love to hang out with every chance we get. So you can imagine our excitement when we learned that we were going to be parents, and even more joyful is the fact that we were having a son – just like we have always wanted.

My husband stopped me from working at week 22 simply because he doesn’t want anything to happen to us – me and the baby. He was very protective of us. He made such we didn’t miss any doctor’s appointment or fail to follow through with any instructions from the doctors. He refused to travel during my last trimester even though he knows that I will be fine and that he will be back in town before my estimated due date.

After a few days of having this strange feelings and smelling like a rotten corpse literary, we went to see the doctor and was told immediately that all is not well but to determine what is wrong we have to carry out a couple of tests which we did and we were told that somehow, somewhere between our last doctor’s appointment and now, we have managed to lose the baby. That our son – who we prayed for, wanted badly and has bought Heaven and earth for is dead and rotten in the womb. He has been dead for days and I didn’t even know it. He was in distress yet I didn’t sense it. I didn’t feel his kick but somehow I didn’t even realise it. Life can be one hell of a cruel joke.

It’s been almost two years since that day that we left the hospital empty-handed – no, with a dead son and a funeral to plan. I was still recuperating from the surgery that I had when my husband took our son to the children’s cemetery to be buried. In fact, to this day, I don’t know how it went and my husband has refused to tell me anything about the funeral. He says I am better off not knowing. And I think he is right.

After I was discharged from the hospital, I was inconsolable for months. I was devastated, broken, shattered and depressed. I didn’t go back to work. I just stayed at home and all I did is eat, drink, cry myself to sleep and repeat. Life became meaningless. I was so consumed in so much grief that nothing anyone did or say to me could bring me out of it. I added so much weight, I lost friends (because I locked everyone out) and I almost ruined my marriage.

Even now, as I type this, life has not gotten any easier, but I have learned to live with the grief rather than let it consume me. I’ve made peace with the past and I have accepted that my son is gone not because of anything I did or didn’t do. I think what really helped me in my healing process is learning to count my blessings and truly being grateful for all that I have and all that I am blessed with, instead of focusing on what I have lost. I rekindled my relationship with God and sort Him more than I ever did in my whole life. That was when I found the courage to forgive myself for the death of my son and only then did I truly find the peace which has helped me to move on, to heel and to live again.

In about two weeks from now, my husband and I will be 3 years in marriage, and although we will never forget our son and all the things that happened to us after his death, we are ready to try again, to give this parenting thing another shoot. So right now we are actively trying for a baby and I know it wouldn’t take long before the PT comes back positive. Pray for us, please!

If you are reading this and going through a loss I pray you to find the strength to live again. It’s because of you I am telling my story. To let you know you are not alone and that all will be well again. Forgive yourself, forgive others and talk to your creator. You will get over it. I am sending lots of warm hugs and love your way. And for every parent out there, may you never suffer the loss of a child. I have been there, and it’s not a place I want anyone to be, not even my worst enemy.

May God keep our children alive, safe and in the best of health in Jesus name.


A grieving mom.

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