I shouldn't

Life is not how I imagined it would be.

I shouldn't have the luxury of resting in bed, trying to fight off a cold that hasn't yet made up its mind whether it will stay or not. I should be up, looking after an eight month old. But I'm not.

I shouldn't dread meeting new people, in case they ask if this pregnancy is my first. I shouldn't feel awkward when answering truthfully, but then again, people shouldn't back away when I tell them about Ariella.

I shouldn't be uncomfortable at larger gatherings, but people's silence regarding Ariella is deafening.

I shouldn't be planning how to capture my grief when on holidays for a week; I should be excitedly looking forward to introducing Ariella to a great friend of ours. But I'm not.

I shouldn't have to go to the cemetery to visit our girl. But I do.

Eight months on and I miss her more than ever.

Life shouldn't be so hard. But it is.

Why I feel letdown by TV's 'Offspring'

Last night I decided to watch Offspring for the first time. The show was going to touch on baby-loss, and I wanted to see how they did it. For my non-Australian readers, Offspring is one of the top rating Australian TV dramas. It wins awards every year, and is watched by a lot of people. When they touch on an issue, it raises awareness. Given the frequency of baby-loss (25-33% of all pregnancies) and the lack of public awareness, I thought that perhaps this show would finally bring it to the forefront of people's minds. And it would do so without a real-life family experiencing the devastation.

But by the end of the show, I was angry and disappointed. Here's why:

Throughout the past week, all the ads for the show have basically been centred around Nina, the seven-months pregnant main character, telling her friend "I can't feel the baby move" and going for an ultrasound. For an entire week, that has been on television. Whenever I saw it, my heart would start pounding and I'd remember going for that ultrasound myself. Occasionally the ad would bring me to tears, and I know that I am not the only person who went through that. Yes, I could have muted the TV or changed channels, but I wanted to watch the show and so felt that watching the one minute ads was preparation for watching the one hour show. I wanted to know how they would portray one of the scariest moments of a pregnancy and perhaps, depending on the ultrasound's result, how they would portray the very worst thing a parent could experience.

At 8:30 last night, my husband and I sat down to watch it, with the tissue box within arm's reach for me. At 9:30 last night, the show was over, and I felt letdown. After being the climax of the adverts, only about 5 minutes of the show really focused on Nina's potential loss. And of course, she had a happy ending. The baby had "moved to a position which made the movements difficult to detect" and was actually perfectly fine.

Imagine if Nina's baby had in fact died. Imagine if millions of Australians saw the horrible reality that happens more than people realise? What if the loss of a fictional baby actually made people think about what it would be like? What if people began to care, to research, to support, all without a real person experiencing the horror?

I wouldn't wish the death of a baby on any person. But I would wish it for a fictional character on one of the most watched shows in Australia. Why can't awareness be raised without a family having to experience the devastation?

I feel like the potential loss of Nina's baby was used in the ads to create drama and draw viewers, yet it really didn't add anything to the actual episode. If the episode had been about suicide, they would have added a note at the end, saying "if you or a loved one is struggling, call Lifeline or Beyond Blue". Even though Nina's baby lived, why couldn't they have added a note at the end saying "if you or a loved one has experienced the loss of a baby, call Sands or Pregnancy Loss Australia" and given information for those two wonderful groups. But no, all they did was show the preview for next week's episode about Nina's sister having to confess to her husband that she'd cheated on him. Really?? That's how you end an episode that was promoted with baby-loss as a central theme, an episode that had baby-loss mums and dads anxious and upset for a week? After a week of adverts centred on the potential loss of a baby, the story moves on with no acknowledgment that up to one third of pregnancies don't get a happy ending?

Maybe I'm overreacting because I didn't get the happy ending in January. But I really think they could have handled it better.

You let me down Offspring.

If only life had a DRS...

Any cricket fans out there will probably know of the DRS - the Decision Review System that allows players to review umpiring decisions that they think were wrong. It's on my mind today given the result of the England v. Australia match that finished last night...with a win to England after they used the DRS to successfully challenge the umpire's decision.


Sometimes I wish life had a Decision Review System. When someone says something inappropriate, I could just ask for a review and they would be forced to take it back. Or when someone does something hurtful, I could refer that action to the DRS and they would be told by a higher power that their decision was wrong and that they need to take it back.

But then I think, it would have to work both ways. At one point or another, it would be my actions being referred. That time I was grumpy? Sorry, not the right attitude - take it back. Or when I lost my patience with someone? Not the right thing to do - go back and try again.

*sigh*

The more I think about it, the more I realise that as a Christian, I do have something along the lines of a DRS in my life. I believe that God the Holy Spirit lives in me, and He is the one giving the little nudges I feel when I get grumpy, lose my patience, or do something else wrong. Being a Christian doesn't make me perfect - far from it! But it does mean that I do have someone prompting me when my decisions and actions need reviewing. It's pretty humbling to have to apologise for something a few days later, after realising it was wrong. But I'd rather be humbled that way, then live knowing I was in the wrong and did nothing to clear it.

The part I find hardest is when I am on the receiving end of someone else's comment or action that was wrong or hurtful. Let's just say that people often "put their foot in it" when it comes to stillbirth and subsequent pregnancy. Sometimes I wonder if being open with somethings on my blog make people think that any aspect of my life and emotions is up for discussion. It's not. I'm actually a fairly private person, and unless you are one of my closer friends, it's unlikely that I want to go into detail about things with you...especially if I haven't written about it on my blog. So why is it so hard to tell someone "I don't actually want to discuss that with you" or "I was hurt by what you said"? It's times like that when I really wish I could just signal for a decision review and have someone else jump in to tell them they need to change what they said or did.

But I guess life's not cricket!

Struggles

I read an article on the Still Standing website today that was quite good; it was called Letting Death be Your Teacher. It's somewhat confronting to read my own thoughts, but written by someone else in a much more eloquent way than I would be able to:

I know death has changed me when prayer is war. How do you love and praise Someone whom you feel so deeply betrayed you? Or, perhaps worse, seems to have forgotten about you?

I know death has changed me when life seems like the exception, and death seems like the rule.

I know death has changed me when I choose to fight with God in prayer. I give Him my pain. My betrayal. My anger. And I place my bruised, bleeding heart into His perfect hands. He doesn't heal my hurt. But He does always hold it for me.

The author lists a number of things, but these three are what got me. Sometimes I worry that I come across as not having any issues with the fact that God didn't heal Ariella. That because I say "his love is deeper still" or "God is still good" that somehow I'm this perfect Christian, even though I've been through the worst thing a parent could.

It's not true.

I struggle. A lot. More than I care to admit sometimes. I've never once doubted that God is still God, or that He is still good. He is. And that's why I have problems. If He wasn't good, I could not have expected Him (or even asked Him) to re-start Ariella's heart. But He is good. Therefore, I (subconsciously) expect Him to do what I say is good. 

And that's why I have to fight with God in prayer, just like the quote above says. Because I am in pain. I do feel betrayed. And I do feel angry. My heart is bruised, and sometimes I worry that it will never stop bleeding. But the reason I can do that, the reason I can come to Him, is because He is still good. He is bringing good out of this situation. And I'm thankful for that. For example,  the makers of Return To Zero - the movie I blogged about here - were hoping to reach 50,000 pledges before the meeting with Hollywood. They reached 56,000+!! Ariella's death is helping to break the silence surrounding pregnancy loss. I'm grateful for that. I'm grateful for the friends who have told me how their life has changed since January 30, because of Ariella's story. I'm grateful for the people I have connected with in ways that I probably wouldn't have otherwise. Sarah. Heather. Brittany. Annika. Marsha. To name just a few. Precious friendships God has brought into my life (or deepened) because of Ariella. 

Don't get me wrong, when it all boils down, I'd rather have my daughter in my arms still. I don't have that, but I do have God, who, despite my pain, anger and betrayal, is still good. 

Break the Silence

I've written before about the shocking statistics of stillbirth - more common than SIDS, more common than road accident deaths, etc. They are truly shocking, and yet it is almost never talked about. It is a difficult topic. I know that more than most. It's difficult to hear a doctor tell you that your unborn child has no heartbeat, it's difficult to tell family and friends. Words do not explain how difficult it is to say goodbye to your precious baby, knowing you won't see them again this side of Heaven.

Stillbirth is difficult. It's confronting. 

But the silence needs to be broken. 

People need to talk about stillbirth; it needs to lose the stigma that is attached to it at the moment. And one thing that is working to break the silence is a film called Return to Zero. It's based on a true story of a couple whose baby boy died before he was born, and it follows their journey through the heartache, an almost broken marriage, and a subsequent pregnancy.

The thing is that there is no guarantee Return to Zero will make it to cinemas. Hollywood needs to be convinced there is an audience for this film, and that is why the film's makers have come up with the Pledge form. If this movie makes it to cinemas - would you go see it when it is released? If you would, will you sign a pledge saying so? The film's makers are meeting with people in Hollywood on Thursday morning (US time), and are hoping to have 50,000 people pledged to see the movie. This meeting could determine whether the film is released to cinemas. It needs to be shown; the silence needs to be broken. 

The link for the pledge form is here. There is a spot for your "local leader" - you can put my name (Larissa Genat), even if you don't live local to me. Will you sign up? Will you help break the silence around stillbirth?

I wanted to let you know that I don't receive anything from the makers of Return to Zero for this blog post; I am writing simply because I believe this film needs to be seen. If a certain number of people pledge to see it, and put my full name as the local leader, I do receive a little gift. But I'm not encouraging you to sign up because of that, I can't even remember what the gift is! I simply believe that this film will be helpful to break the silence. That is the sole reason I am encouraging you to sign up and see the movie when it's released.

Together we can break the silence. 

Butterfly kisses, bad news and banana bread

There's a famous song called Butterfly Kisses. I used to like it, but now I don't. They lyrics say:

After all that I've done wrong

I must have done something right

To deserve a hug every morning

And butterfly kisses at night

I heard it played at a wedding on the weekend, and my heart just broke. It's hard enough going to weddings: seeing the dad walk his daughter down the aisle, hearing him give a speech about his girl, and maybe watching them dance. I see all of these happen, and know that's another thing we lost when our daughter died. It's all I can do not to run out to my car and sob. And then Butterfly Kisses is played. Sure it's a lovely song, but if the lyrics I underlined are true, does that mean my husband and I did too much wrong, because we won't get those things? Is a living daughter who gives hugs and kisses really a result of doing something right? No.  It's not dependent on how good we are, or even how bad we are. Life happens. Death happens. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. God is still sovereign. 

I hate giving people bad news. Telling family and friends that Ariella had died was one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever had to do. I'm thankful for things like Facebook, which enables us to spread the news and try to make sure everyone knows. But not everyone does know...yet they knew I was pregnant. On the weekend I bumped into someone who knew I was pregnant. The last time I'd seen them was three days before Ariella died. She looked at me and said "you had a baby, didn't you?" And I hated having to tell her that yes, I did, but she was stillborn. The look in her eyes was heartbreaking. She had asked an innocent question, one that I would have joyfully answered if Ariella was alive. Instead I had bad news to give her; it feels like I ruin people's day when I tell them what happened. I don't like making other people sad.

The other day I made banana bread. It may not seem like a big deal, but it was. Before I was pregnant, I loved baking and would bake at least once a week. Then I got morning sickness and couldn't even go into a kitchen without feeling sick, yet alone do any baking. Once the morning sickness left, I was often too tired to bake, and honestly forgot it was an option (as I hadn't done any baking for months). After Ariella was born, I hated the idea of baking. It was another reminder that Ariella wasn't with me - I didn't want to do something that I hadn't been able to do while she was alive. But last week I made banana bread. And I made some muffins too. To me, that's a big deal. Celebrating the small stuff.

Why?

One of my biggest questions is why. Not why did Ariella die but why does no one talk about stillbirth. 

There was a point during my pregnancy with Ariella when I was scared about stillbirth. But I thought that stillbirths were rare; that they don't really happen in countries like Australia or in low-risk pregnancies. 

But did you know that:

*2000 babies are stillborn in Australia each year?
*7 babies are stillborn each DAY in Australia?
*50% of stillbirths are unexplained?

If 50% are unexplained, that means that low-risk pregnancies are not excluded.Before Ariella I thought that stillbirths only happened in higher risk pregnancies, or if there were health problems for the baby.

Society will often talk about SIDS, AIDS, malaria and road accidents. But did you know that:

*Stillbirths are 10 times more common than SIDS?
*There are more stillbirths each year (globally) than children killed from AIDS or malaria combined?
*More babies die in Australia from stillbirth and newborn death than people die from road accidents?

Statistics for stillbirths/newborn death haven't changed significantly in the past decade. So why don't people talk about stillbirth (and newborn death)? I'm certainly glad that people talk about it more than they did in the past, and that the way stillbirths are dealt with have changed. In the past, stillborn babies were taken from their parents straight away; most parents never even got to see their precious child. We were able to see, hold and spend time with Ariella. We have memories with her, and for that I am grateful. But I still hate the silence that surrounds stillbirth.

This video contains most of the stats I mentioned above, plus more.