I went through stillbirth.
It is not a source of shame. It doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable. Stillbirth for me is a deep sadness I went through, and I can reconnect to it in a second. I choose not to do so.
Instead, I choose to talk about stillbirth.
It is the thing that will give this experience a face, a name, presence, acknowledgment.
It is the thing that gives faces and names to stillbirth.
For years there are rows of women who remain faceless, who lost their baby and have birth written all over their bodies and souls.
With an extra scar: we lost our babies. They died in the womb.
I don’t think it’s right to keep this experience faceless.
For years there are rows of babies who are buried faceless and nameless.
Yet they all have a face, and most of them (I think) have names just as my Ayelet had a face and a name.
Working through the loss I went through doesn’t prevent me from living my life. It allows me to acknowledge her presence in my life and the fact that she lived with me, inside me, and now she’s gone.
For one to die, one must be alive first. And if I don’t acknowledge Ayelet’s life, how will I be able to admit her death?
It is the only way that leads to mourning, grief, saying goodbye, and integrating this experience in my life.
I go on with this experience as a part of my bundle in life.
It is a healing journey.