First support group meeting: Perinatal bereavement group

Someone said last night,

"It's not going to get better, but it will get easier".

In looking ahead, that makes so much sense.

Every 2nd and 4th Mondays of the month Long Beach Memorial Hospital (where we had Malaya) has a group for parents who've lost a child during pregnancy or shortly after birth. We were invited by one of the chaplains, Sharon, who showed a great deal of kindness toward us while I was in labor. Even though it was somewhat far for us, King and I decided to give it a try. We were both blown away during the session.

Because we want to respect the privacy of the people there we will not mention any names or go into details about their stories. We will say, however, that it feels so good to have people who understand our pain and have been through a lot of what we are going through. Our loss is the most recent, at three weeks, but we saw how deep grief runs as tears were still being shed from people who have been there for over six months.

There were a lot of nodding heads when we told our story. I've never thought of putting our entire story about Malaya into a few short minutes, so I was in a little blur when I told it. It's okay, though. Apparently, because we will be coming back, we have more chances to tell it.

There were so many wonderful things about the night, but here are a few things beautiful:

• No matter how long they've been there, every time this group meets each has the opportunity to tell their story about what happened to them and their baby. How awesome, because sometimes people who haven't been through the death of their baby think that talking about the lost loved one might be inappropriate after a few months OR are just plain uncomfortable and don't know exactly how to listen or what to say. And of course, we want to be able to talk about Malaya when we feel like it.
• Our babies lives were honored and definitely humanized. (This is a real loss for all of us. Sometimes, because they didn't get to know our babies, there are people who might not place as much value upon these little ones versus those whom they knew well or who simply just lived longer...even unconsciously...it shows in their words.)
  
• Some said this was like a second family. There was an instant sense of camaraderie and safety for me.
• People were not ashamed or afraid to cry.
• King said on our way home that it was so great because by sharing like that people are able to help each other and at the same time they are being healed.

Lately, more and more people have been focusing on asking how I am doing and not always asking about King. I guess that's how our society is, but He IS Malaya's daddy. I'm glad that King has other fathers who can relate to what he is going through.

One of the things that I felt sad over was that someone told me about "a new normal". They said that all of us would never be the same people that we were before we lost our baby. And that made me sad because I honestly like the old me and the old King. In an instant, though, I realized that yes, we do have to let go of who were once were and learn to accept the new people that we are becoming because Malaya isn't with us anymore. So, I guess some questions we both might need to ask ourselves are, "Who was I?", "Who am I now?", and "Who are we as a couple?"

It was our first time with these amazing people, yet we can already HIGHLY recommend this type of support group for people who are dealing with miscarriage/stillbirth/the death of their baby. When we got home both King and I felt emotionally exhausted, yet quite emotionally satisfied.