My stillborn son

Pregnant

In 1980, I became pregnant with my first baby. I was happy about it and the pregnancy developed well. I prepared well and tried to live as carefully as possible so that the baby could develop well. I went to the midwife and antenatal yoga regularly. Of course, I also read a lot about it.

Almost 9 months pregnant, my waters suddenly broke and I saw colored amniotic fluid. The midwife was called and she told me not to worry. I did have to go to the hospital just to be sure. It was on a Saturday evening and it so happened that the midwife was supervising another delivery there, so she didn’t really have time and attention for me.

Just to be sure, they put me on a machine that monitored the baby’s heart tones. But suddenly there was panic. The gynecologist was called at home and asked to come and they took me, without further explanation, to a room where an ultrasound was done. Then it became clear, my baby had just died in my belly. It was unbelievable!

The delivery

Then it was waiting for labor to begin. That wait lasted 3 hours. Giving birth to a deceased baby is hard. Not only did I experience the intense pain of the contractions, but I also knew that my baby had died. There was no more pink cloud.

In the 1980s it was not yet customary to be allowed to see the baby so neither was I. However, the gynecologist did tell me it was a beautiful, blond 6-pound boy. My son stayed in the hospital and because I wanted to know what caused his death, he was examined (obduction). It later turned out that my placenta had failed in the final stage of pregnancy.

Numbers

The official medical term for the death of a baby in the womb (after 16 weeks) is ‘intrauterine fetal death’. Intrauterine means ‘in utero ectopic’. There were 4,511 stillbirths in 1950, 1,205 in 1980, 735 in 2020 and 554 in 2021.

Going home without a baby

And then I came home without my son and was faced with a baby’s room where everything had been prepared. It felt empty, sad and the shock was great.

Unlike the custom in the 1980s, my son was cremated. There were 9 red roses on his casket.

I still sometimes think back with sadness to all those women who had stillborn babies in the earlier years. For example, if one was Catholic, their baby was not allowed to be buried in consecrated ground. Very harsh! Also, a stillborn child was not recorded in the population register. Imagine being pregnant, giving birth and then the baby being completely ignored!

Inclusion in the Basic Registration of Persons

Fortunately, starting February 3, 2019, it became possible to register a stillborn child in the BRP (Basic Registration of Persons). Previously stillborn children can also be included in the basic registration and so could my son. A certificate of birth (lifeless) was made at the municipality and then the certificate was recorded in the death register. The certificate of birth (lifeless) is an official acknowledgement that my son came into the world. And counts as official proof.

Grieving

How did I process the grief for my son? It was difficult. At first I was shocked and felt numb. It seemed like it hadn’t really happened. Gradually, realization sank in. I felt angry, blamed the obstetrician and gynecologist for laxity all the more because both of them avoided a conversation about the course of events during childbirth.

The grief was there for a long time although it was alleviated by the fact that my second son Raoul was born.

My first son was born on December 14, 1980 and his name is Eelco. Always in the month of December I become hushed. That’s when my memories come back. My son would turn 42 this year. Johanna