Four Beautiful women share their stories of heartache and loss of their beautiful angel babies. May they forever hold a special place in these ladies hearts.
Danielle Carter - WA
All our dreams came true creating you. You made me a mother as our hearts beat together, no words describe how much I love you and how my lonely heart aches for you.
Wolfe - born still 7th October 2016
Ami Summers (Heartspace) - VIC
I am a coach, leadership consultant and the Author of Heart Space. I am also a mother of two: however you'll only ever see me with our son. Our daughter Arla died in 2013, she was stillborn at full term. Me and my husband Dave then lost several other pregnancies, including an ectopic pregnancy that ended in emergency surgery. Our son was born in 2015 prematurely, and both he and I almost didn't survive the birth.
When we left the hospital after Arla's labour without her, we left with empty arms. I looked for resources like Heart Space and couldn't find them. I set about to bring my coaching and leadership development experience into congruence with my life experience to help the audience I understood the deepest. For years, weekends and nights were worked, and this carefully crafted resource came to life. Our personal stories are in there, our focus groups stories, and constructive exercises that may help other families through the complex experiences you go through while grieving a child. It is by far the hardest thing any human can go through. Heart Space was finally launched in April 2019, and is a 258 page self-directed, therapeutically reviewed coaching book designed to help families through all stages of loss.
The book is designed to be a workbook, journal, memory book and self-coaching guide all in one. It was such a satisfying experience to work with the team involved in this resource. The collective shaping of the book meant stories were told that had previously remained unshared. It's being incredibly embraced all over the world and feels like all the women and families involved and their devastating losses are now 'for something'. Heart Space is Arla's legacy to help other women through their pain, and certainly my life's work.
Nicole Roberts - QLD
Wyatt James is my stillborn baby. I found out his heart stopped beating on my birthday when I went up to the Pregnancy Assessment Centre at the Mater, because his movements had slowed. In that moment of being told “I’m sorry, your baby has no heartbeat” my world changed forever. Delivering Wyatt was the hardest thing I’ve had to do. My doctor warned me close to delivery to be prepared that there would not be a cry, only silence.
There are so many brutal aspects to deal with when your baby is stillborn. I never felt his body warm, only cold. I have a few precious onesies he wore during his week in hospital, and after washing them, they smell like him. Softly fabric softener and dead baby. My breastmilk still came in and I had it for over two months. The agony of having all that milk was cruel. When planning to cremate Wyatt, we had to discuss how much he weighted to pick the right sized urn and then the final goodbye, knowing we would never see our son again.
JENNA STANLEY - VIC
I’ve always been one to think I would celebrate a pregnancy INSTANTLY and not hold off for the “safe” 12-week mark, as I’ve always thought it’s SO sad that someone could be grieving a loss and keeping it to themselves/not having a wider support system during their journey because of the stigma. Or if there’s no loss, why walk around hiding how god damn happy you are!
So here I was, 1 week into my first ever positive pregnancy test, when I found out there wasn’t one healthy heart-beat but THREE, all nestled in one little home of identical triplets.
I INSTANTLY wanted to share, why not? I 110% understood that IF something horrible happened, I would have to do that un-thinkable announcement, but I knew that if that really did happen, I needed as much bloody support of family and girlfriends!
Unfortunately, two weeks later as we planned our cute announcement photo (picture my darling step daughter in “Big Sissy” attire), we found out all three little hearts had stopped.
It sucks. GUT WRENCHING. I wouldn’t wish that feeling of lost and pain and anger on anyone else. But it is what it is. Some days I find comfort in that it wasn’t because of my body, or there wasn’t anything wrong with them – just not “enough blood for the three to share” I was told.
But all that aside – I am SO bloody glad I went against the grain and everyone in my life knows my journey – yes people may feel awkward, and so have I, at times – but I’m not in the shadows and hiding because something SHIT happened.
For a very short 3 and a half weeks, I was on cloud 9, blissfully un-aware of how damn high-risk my “miracle” pregnancy was and how short-lived that feeling would be. The hardest part of my journey has been that the next healthy pregnancy / baby will never be the same - not only is it a totally different being and not a replacement, but there won’t be three instant-besties all together.