I want to share what I’ve learnt about pregnancy and infant loss, both professionally and personally. As a counsellor, I sit with people in their hardest moments every week. My understanding comes not just from textbooks, but from lived experience.
I lost my own baby.
Pregnancy and infant loss can make you feel very alone. You may feel despair, isolation, anger and also, inexplicably targeted. ‘Why me?’
Quickly, it will feel like the world is moving on whilst yours has crashed and stopped.
But you are not alone and talking about your loss matters more than you might think.
Talking to your trusted circle as well as seeking support is not just comforting but necessary. Talking about your loss can help you process your thoughts and feelings to try and make sense of it. Talking in a safe space can also start the process of healing.
When we talk, we allow our grief to be witnessed and that in turn can allow some of it’s weight to be shared and held.
Something else also significant happens. We discover that we are not the only ones. We begin to realise that there are many others who have been through this very unfair, difficult and painful journey.
As we talk, we may also likely begin to feel connection and belonging.
I felt all of this when I sought help. I felt safe. I found my community.
Bears of Hope
The support I received from Bears of Hope was immense.
And that is my “why” for choosing to work in this organisation.
When my baby passed, I could not have articulated what I needed. I could barely breathe nor function.
I felt such intense pain. I felt primal.
The grief was all-consuming.
But somehow, in that fog, I faintly remember that I was given a piece of paper. A social worker at the hospital had handed that paper to a family member, who then passed it on to me. On the paper were the words scribbled – Bears of Hope.
I also remember hearing the words from him, “They have counsellors who have been through this. They can help you. You should reach out.”
So I reached out.
That single decision changed the course of my grief.
What made this decision so important
Seeking help felt like I was taking that small step towards being kind to myself. I felt a sense of agency.
I could scroll through the website, and read about each counsellor, and choose someone who resonated with me. I could choose how I wanted to interact with them, whether that be face to face, online, phone and even via chat.
I could see the same counsellor repeatedly if I chose to, which gave me real continuity of care, something often missing in grief therapy.
Every counsellor was qualified, trained, and, importantly, had lived experience of pregnancy and/or infant loss themselves. There is a particular kind of safety in speaking to someone who truly understands.
They get it. Because they have lived it.
The counsellors are exceptional. They listen, care and hold space. They gently guide. They facilitate reflection and insight. They aim to empower.
Also, every counselling session is free of charge.
Bears of Hope is not government funded. It keeps giving because of some truly remarkable parents, individuals, and organisations with big hearts, who quietly fund the hope that is much needed by so many.
The support for me, did not just stop at counselling.
Along the way, I received an adorable Bear of Hope – A gentle comfort that gave me something to hold onto.
On their Facebook page, I discovered a whole community of bereaved parents, just like me. Every time I posted something, there they were to offer care and support. Only parents who have suffered the same will know the specific and all consuming heartbreak.
After finding Bears of Hope, I started feeling less alone. I started feeling less like I was targeted somehow. I realised that while our losses are unique, we are part of something bigger, and that bigger something is full of people who have been there, and also get it.
As parents, it can be cathartic to talk about our losses.
For too long, pregnancy and infant loss have been treated as a loss that somehow counts less than other kinds of losses, a grief you are just expected to quietly outgrow.
It doesn’t have to be that way anymore. If we can seek support, reach for our community, and find meaningful ways to connect. If we can be kinder to ourselves and give ourselves permission to say, “I lost my baby. And I am not okay”, then we would open new doors.
If you are experiencing the heartbreak of pregnancy and/or infant loss, or are navigating the often complex journey of pregnancy after loss, I would like to gently encourage you to reach out to Bears of Hope.
Whether you are needing someone to just listen without judgement, looking for a way to honour your baby, or simply wanting to find your way back to some hope, Bears of Hope can be there for you.