I looked at the doctor with blurry eyes when she confirmed what I already knew. No heartbeat. My husband softly wept beside me.
On the drive home, all I could think was, We never even got to know you.
As many of you reading this have experienced, a whole life vanished right before our eyes. From the moment we knew our first embryo adoption worked, we talked about our future with our baby. But it disappeared, now just a broken dream I’d lament forever.
Since it happened at 9 weeks into the pregnancy, most people didn’t know I was pregnant. But I wanted people to know we had a baby; I wanted my baby remembered.
So a natural next step for my husband and I was to name our baby. We didn’t know the gender, but what we did know was the joy that our child brought us. So, we named our baby, “Joy,” and we announced it to the communities within our world. But immediately after announcing the pregnancy, miscarriage, and baby’s name, I struggled with questions like, “Do they think it’s ridiculous that we named our baby? Do they even see Joy as a baby? Do they think we shouldn’t have been sad in the first place?” And while I knew I really ought not care if people had those thoughts about our loss, I couldn’t shake those questions and the self-consciousness that followed.
Until the game changer: hearing Joy’s name on peoples’ lips and receiving gifts with Joy’s name, like the necklace from my sister-in-law and a garden memorial stone from a friend. If I said Joy’s name, I didn’t know how it would be received, but to hear others say it affirmed our grief and honored our baby. Naming Joy and having others respect us by saying, “Joy” was painful in one way but mostly I felt comfort in hearing others honor Joy’s short life.
Psalm 139 says that God knows us when we are yet an unformed substance. So if the God of the universe recognizes the life I carried in my womb, I am free to recognize and celebrate my precious Joy’s life. And I don’t need to be ashamed to say so; nor do others need to feel so worried about acknowledging a lost life in a mother’s womb.
Many people who experience pregnancy loss want their baby recognized, and one of the best ways to do that is to name the baby.
So when we know the name of a baby, we can respect the parents and bring honor to their baby by using the name. As uncomfortable as it may feel, it only compounds one’s grief to avoid acknowledgement of the baby’s life.
Of course, others might choose not to name their baby, and that is okay. The best thing to do when supporting someone who’s had a pregnancy loss is to ask them their preference. Push past the fear of offending them or making the pain worse and remember mindfulness of what a person wants regarding their loss shows deep respect and care. Making an assumption can amplify the pain, whereas asking what the mother and father prefer displays honor, memory, thoughtfulness, and support.
If you’ve lost a baby, know that it’s okay to be honest about what you prefer, even if someone doesn’t ask. We don’t need to hurt silently as people skate around naming our loss. We can bravely speak up and speak our baby’s name. Let’s honor our babies so others will, too.
What is your baby’s name? What was your due date? We’d love to know and honor your child with you.
Kelly Ottaway is a contributor for WiH and enjoys ministering to others dealing with infertility, loss, and waiting. Kelly is a Licensed Professional Counselor and lives in Ontario with her husband and their two children who were adopted as embryos. Kelly enjoys writing, especially about infertility, mental health, and theology. @kel.ottaway
