My journey through birth trauma and perinatal mental health began in the early hours of July 31, 2022, when my husband and I went to the IWK after noticing our baby hadn’t been moving much. Upon arrival, the nurse couldn’t find his heartbeat and called for the OB on call, who used the ultrasound machine and confirmed any parent’s worst nightmare: our 34-week, 5-day gestation little boy’s heart had stopped beating. We spent the next 28 hours in a hospital room, being induced and waiting to meet our baby boy. At 4:42 a.m. on August 1, 2022, Arthur was placed into our arms, so quietly and so still, weighing 3 lbs 15 oz. We spent the next 12 hours getting to know every little piece of his tiny body and telling him about the dreams we had for him before we had to say goodbye and give him to the medical team, so they could try to find out what had caused him to leave us.

The following weeks, months, and now years have been spent mourning what should have been with our Artie and processing the intense trauma of our situation. We later found out that Arthur died due to a very small placenta and intrauterine growth restriction.

In April of 2023, we decided to start trying again to make Arthur a big brother. We got pregnant on the very first try, but it resulted in a chemical pregnancy just four weeks later.

Without fully processing the mental side of the chemical pregnancy, we tried again, knowing that fertility can be higher after a miscarriage. We received another positive test on June 28, 2023. That positive test turned into a successful pregnancy, one that was closely followed by Maternal Fetal Medicine and a high-risk obstetrics team.

On February 17, at just over 37 weeks, we started an induction to meet our newest baby boy. All was going well until 9:58 a.m., when at 5 cm dilated, our baby started having late decelerations, with his heart rate dropping into the 60s and 70s. Over the next eight minutes, which felt like hours, the OB rushed to open my cervix and get our baby out. His heart rate continued to drop until 10:06 a.m. on February 18, 2024, when he was placed on my chest, screaming. His APGAR score was great despite what we had been through, and we were moved to recovery and then home two days later.

Unfortunately, our trauma didn’t end there. We brought baby Gabe home, and in less than two hours, he deteriorated. We returned to the IWK through the children’s emergency department with a baby who was hypothermic and retracting in his chest quite badly. He was admitted to the NICU for five days, where he received several rounds of antibiotics and incubator time to help him with temperature regulation. We never received a clear cause for his deterioration after getting home, but after five days in the NICU, he was discharged as a healthy baby, with only some light jaundice that would clear up on its own.

Now, with a healthy living baby at home and a baby who lives among the stars but always in our hearts, we try to work through all the trauma we suffered bringing our babies into the world. We work with therapists who help us with the mental load, and family and friends who help us carry the trauma and love for both of our babies.