loving maddie & ava

Malika Ndlovu writes down her feelings to help herself heal following the stillbirth of her daughter.
January 1st-I have just taken the tablet to catalyze the contractions (induce labor) that will deliver you, out of your nest, my womb. I sit with a lit candle in the garden, listening to a baby crying next door, wind blowing through the trees, a plane flying over high above. How do I leave home today full of you and come home tomorrow, empty? My mind swings between dead calm practicalities of to do lists and necessary arrangements, to tears cutting me down to a deep quiet grief I cannot fully feel even though I know it is there.

How could I imagine that your last fevered fluttering was goodbye? How can I hold the thought that you have been sleeping lifeless inside of me since then, already gone? It's been almost four days. I race from recollecting all the signs that came before to tell us that this was where your path would lead, signs that I shut out so many times, clear calls for me to face the silence of you no longer kicking within me.

This morning in the shower a clear image of these few words on a blank page came to me:

"Your death has changed my life."

 Maddie's death has changed my life. Love you and miss you beyond words, baby girl.

Heaven has welcomed more angels this month. Two were rainbow babies for people I go to dead baby group with. (Sorry--that's mostly meant to make non BLM uncomfortable) It doesn't even seem possible.

Meanwhile, my tolerance for stupid comments is decreasing by the day. I am feeling very vulnerable lately...send me strength, tolerance and peace, baby girl. Please.

And send it to everyone else who is in the same situation.

We had a very nice weekend. I think this was the first one in a long time where we didn't have plans. Today we ended up going to an apple orchard with my husband's family. I love apple orchards. I love fall weather, pumpkins and mums.

We went to grab a bit of lunch after and ended up going to a sports bar/grill and ordered some food. A group of people came in to sit at the bar and promptly ordered drinks from the bartender/waitress whom they obviously knew. Ok, big deal, a group of people drinking on a Sunday afternoon. I immediately noticed that one member of the group was very pregnant. No big deal. As we were eating our lunch, I looked up and outside and noticed that two of the women from the group were outside smoking. It's great that we don't have to smell cigarette smoke inside anymore. One woman turned to the side. All I could see was her very pregnant belly and her arm flicking the ash off her cigarette.

I really wanted to go up to her and say that she is very lucky to be pregnant and that she shouldn't take it for granted that everything is going to be ok because I could name off 30 people who did EVERYTHING right and still couldn't bring home an alive baby.

But instead, I said something to our table. My father in law said, "Oh, well I turned out alright and my mom smoked through all of her pregnancies. That's just what people did."

I really wanted to reach across the table and slap him around a little. His own mom had a stillborn baby. He knows that things don't always turn out alright. His own granddaughter (step) didn't make it and we did everything right.

Some people do everything wrong while pregnant and are able to have many healthy babies that they can't care for adequately. And some people do everything right and have a hard time becoming pregnant or simply have a baby who dies.

Sometimes people suck.