Stillbirth – My Personal Journey of Loss, Silence, and Strength

Losing a child is an unimaginable pain and one that changes your world forever. I share this part of my journey not for sympathy, but in the hope that it will help others feel less alone in their grief.

In April, over Easter Bank Holiday weekend, I gave birth at home to my stillborn baby after being repeatedly dismissed by medical professionals. Despite daily bleeding throughout my pregnancy and numerous hospital visits, I was told time and time again that everything was fine. I was hospitalised with infections, bedridden with constant complications, yet every concern I raised was minimised or ignored.

That Friday the 13th, Good Friday, I woke up for the first time in months without having bled through the night. I thought maybe things were turning a corner. But that morning, pain gripped my body, and I delivered my baby at home. What followed was a traumatic journey of silence, negligence, and a complete lack of accountability from the hospital.

We drove 45 minutes to the hospital that had discharged me only the day before, my husband, myself, and our three other children in tow. An autopsy was promised. Answers were assured. But instead, we faced delays, excuses, and ultimately, months of silence. The chaplain called weekly, baffled at the hold-ups. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he said.

It wasn’t until July, three months later, that we were finally allowed to bury our child. They claimed they lost reports, denied us the autopsy findings, and even withheld the gender of our baby. I hadn’t looked when we wrapped the baby, and now, that opportunity was gone forever.

I believe the truth was hidden. Years later, my daughter, who was just one at the time, was diagnosed with a rare, life-threatening bleeding disorder that took four years to diagnose. I believe the findings in that report could have made all the difference to her diagnosis and care.

In the months after the loss, I grieved in silence. I would burst into uncontrollable tears, unable to explain the sudden waves of sorrow that overwhelmed me. There were no words, just heartbreak.

To this day, I wonder who our baby would have become. There will always be a space in our family that feels incomplete. A quiet presence is missed. A name never known. A love never forgotten.

💙 Why I Share This Story

Stillbirth is not spoken about enough. Too often, grieving parents are left with no closure, no space to mourn, and no validation for the depth of their loss. This story is part of my healing and a way to help others feel seen and supported.

If you’re going through something similar, please know: You are not alone. Your grief is valid. Your story matters.

🕊️ Your healing journey starts with being heard. If you’re ready to take the next step, explore my free self-help guides or reach out for one-to-one support.