From the desk of…

To my Dear Friends,

It is December 31. A day where I share with you, my story. The day that I delivered one of my babies still. No life. No Mazal tov. Just silence.

I recall hearing the dropping of the apple in NY. The celebratory shouts of “Happy New Year”, while delivering a baby that would never greet the world, and thinking to myself; is there a possibility of life and death in one moment? The paradox of losing and living, of the have and have not was so blatant before my eyes.

The experience of loss left me with so much to think about. A loss of dreams. A loss of self-identity. I was left with the very painful question of “Am I a mother still?” It was a loss of a part of the future. One of where I never got to know my child. And finally, pregnancy loss is a mystery that not I, nor anyone can ever resolve. This experience was so confusing. Losing a baby is truly backwards: parents are supposed to outlive their children. And giving birth to death did not make any sense, but it was real, and I was living proof.

And yet when I come to you today, I will tell you not only my story, but also the story of the many mothers who have endured the loss of a baby, pregnancy, or even multiple pregnancy. These are mothers who grapple with the waves of grief and suffer with the weight of empty arms.

My message to you on this day is to please recognize that the world celebrates life more than it acknowledges death. These births get hidden between the cracks. But they are here, sometimes daily as constant reminders.

I ask that you recognize that when a baby dies, or one loses a pregnancy, it changes the meaning of life, sometimes forever.

I ask that you know the existence of invisible motherhood and acknowledge it forever.

I ask that you understand that when a mother experiences a loss she wants to be acknowledged. She wants you to always understand that she is exhausted; her heart is incomplete, and constantly shattering in hope and doubt; and most of all, she doesn’t want the fact that her baby existed to be ignored.

And I ask you to remember to:

• Show that you care.
• Show her that you know it is tough.
• Tell her that you understand that there might not be a complete cure for grief.
• And that you will hold her hand through this journey

Yes, if I think on this day. What would we want most? We want to be loved as friends, as family and most importantly as a mother. These are my thoughts reflecting on my children that are stillborn and yet still born.

Signed by a mother who remembers always and forever,
Malkie Klaristenfeld