Mother of Wilde
Dear Health Care Professionals: My Baby Was Not a "Fluke"
Dear Health Care Professionals:
Know that, I appreciate all of the things you do to ensure my baby is safe during pregnancy.
Know that, I appreciate all of the things you do to ensure that I am safe during pregnancy.
Know that, I appreciate all of the precautions you advise me take to protect my baby outside of my womb.
To ensure my baby comes out strong, lively, and breathing.
To give my baby the best possible chance at surviving in a world that sometimes feels dark.
Know that, I appreciate all of the things you did to try and keep my baby alive.
Know that, I appreciate all of the ways you attempted to comfort me through a silent birth.
Know that, I appreciate all of times you researched to try and find "answers" for me.
It doesn't go unnoticed or unappreciated.
But I have to be honest here.
When talking to a mom that has lost her baby, the medical terminology hurts.
When talking to a dad that has lost his baby, the medical terminology hurts.
You have pursued health care with a passion to help people.
Most often than not, people who are hurting.
Not to spew empty terminology in the direction of the already heartbroken.
Not to be so educated that sympathy is lost.
Not to completely forget the magnitude of the situation because you may see it often.
Have you forgotten who you're talking to?
A mom that has lost her baby.
A dad that has lost his baby.
Can you imagine the irreversible pain of calling my baby a "fluke"?
My baby wasn't a fluke.
My husband is not sobbing over a fluke.
My family has not been crying for weeks on end over a fluke.
Our community wasn't endlessly praying over a fluke.
Can you imagine the irreversible damage of referring to my baby as a "fetal demise"?
My baby wasn't simply a fetal demise.
My baby has a name.
My baby has a face.
My baby has living siblings.
My baby had a nursery awaiting their arrival.
Can you imagine the irreversible damage of referring to my miscarried baby as an "abortion?"
My so very wanted baby.
My already loved baby.
The one I had been praying for and making plans for.
I already have to dodge unnecessary comments from family.
I already have to dismiss unintentionally hurtful comments from friends.
"How many kids do you have?", is often a weekly, unexpected stab by strangers.
I cannot keep bringing new pain home from words of doctors.
I cannot keep bringing new hurt home from words of nurses.
Words that cannot be unheard and unsaid.
Words that I inadvertently store in my mind.
You may have forgotten but I replay them.
I replay them at night when I cry myself to sleep.
I replay them on my baby's milestones.
I replay them at my next doctor's appointment.
I replay them when I hear others say they, too, are hurting because of them.
Health Care Professionals, please do better for us.
Bereaved Mother of Noah Wilde Rooney
Mother of Wilde is a faith-based company with a vision to spread hope and point bereaved families to Jesus. In July 2021, husband and wife collaboration, decide to connect the loss of their son with their purpose. After much prayer, Mother of Wilde was born with a mission of creating memorial prints and giving back to bereaved parents.