Rowena's Story - Elijah and What Could’ve Been

Last year, when I was starting my blog, I reached out to several friends to help me get going. Rowena was one of those people who helped me to define what I wanted to accomplish with my blog. By changing the culture around talking about infertility and pregnancy loss, we hope to allow more women the space to heal and honor their losses. Rowena experienced a challenging pregnancy with hyperemesis gravidarum (extreme morning sickness). After going into labor the day after Halloween, there were delivery complications. Because of a placenta abruption, instead of going home blissfully with a baby in her arms, Rowena had to mourn and bury her son. Today, we honor Elijah, who would have been two years old.

Tell us a little bit about yourself:

I am 27, work full-time, and absolutely love crocheting! I have been married for roughly 4.5 years and have a dog and a cat. Right now, my go-to drink is diet root beer, and I really hate the seams of socks, so I sometimes wear them inside out.

What do you want people to know about your experience?

This experience isn't an easy one to see the purpose behind it. I mean, I'm not grateful it happened. I don't feel like I've learned anything, but I feel like I'm managing it better. If I had the choice to go back and somehow have my son, I would—100%. I would give up these last two years in a heartbeat to be able to choose the path where he lived. So I guess if I want them to know something, it's that it takes time to see the reason behind things. Right now, I don't look at this like a "lesson" but rather a tragic situation that I wish had never happened.

What would you tell yourself if you could return to this experience?

It's okay to say no. No, you don't have to go to church today. No, you don't have to go to the family activity. No, you don't have to put yourself in a position you know would make you uncomfortable or sad. I realize that now, and even though it's been two years, I still try to follow this concept: It's okay to say no.

What is something someone else said or did or that you wish they did to help you?

A lot of people donated money for the hospital bills and the funeral. Even if your baby dies, you still have to pay for it on top of a casket and burial site. I was so grateful for all the donations because bills were the last thing I wanted to worry about. Now, my husband and I give $100 to those we know who have lost a baby.

The texts from people were excellent. Specifically, though, texts that mentioned that I didn't have to reply because I didn't want to reply, and knowing there was no obligation to do so was comforting.

Something I wish people had done is be more careful with trying to be spiritual about it all. When someone suffers from a loss like this, their idea of family is tarnished. Do NOT try and preach to them unless they bring it up first. The last thing I wanted to hear is, "God gives his hardest battles to His strongest warriors." Uuuummmm, so I can be weak then? Why would I want to be strong if it means not having Elijah?

What is something hurtful or triggering from this experience?

This experience has led to some very random things triggering my memory. The impact of Elijah's death didn't stay in 2021.

• Halloween, for one thing. On Halloween 2021, I was having a good time with my family, only to wake up rushing to the hospital the following day because of contractions.

• Horchata. It was one of the few things I could keep down when I was pregnant. Now, it makes me sick.

• Any sort of nausea. I had hyperemesis gravidarum (extreme morning sickness) my whole pregnancy, so I was constantly nauseous and could barely keep anything down.

• The Great British Bake Off. I watched this the night before I went into the hospital.

• The Eragon book. I would listen to the audiobook so I wouldn't think about the nausea.

• Obviously, all babies and pregnant women. I specifically can't be around pregnant women anymore.

What advice would you give someone going through a similar experience?

You. Are. Not. Alone. I am ashamed to say this, but sometimes I am grateful when others go through a similar experience. Do I want people to have stillborns? Absolutely not. But if it does happen, some selfish part of me is glad to know that someone understands my pain and can relate.

What advice would you give to someone who is holding on to self-blame?

I am still working through this almost two years later. I keep telling myself that I did everything I could. But I, of course, think to myself, "Elijah had a heartbeat when I went into the hospital." I should've told them to get him out NOW rather than sit and wait for his heartbeat to stop. But in the end, sitting there thinking about that isn't going to change anything except make me unhappy. So, I would advise that it's normal to blame yourself, and it takes time, practice, and patience to try not to.

How has this experience affected your relationship with others?

I have a hard time bonding with friends and family members who have kids. There are definitely friendships I haven't nurtured as much as I used to. I often feel as though people view me as immature because I don't have (living) kids at 27. Sometimes, I think about not trying to get pregnant again, and I feel this pressure from those around me, even if they don't deliberately mean to make me feel that way. On the flip side, I think this experience allowed me to find and bond with those who have also been through something similar.

Example: I was at the doctor the other day, and the health coach I saw was pregnant. I asked if she had any other kids, and she said, "Yes and no." The SECOND, she said that I knew. I knew that we had a connection, maybe a sad one. I was right. She lost her little one at three days old. So, we had a few minutes to connect and hear about each other's experiences of losing a baby. It was bittersweet.

How has your spirituality and relationship with God changed?

Matthew 17:20 has been such a difficult scripture. "Faith can move mountains." I have realized that even if you have all the faith in the world, God doesn't always let things happen (or can't). I prayed when I was giving birth that maybe, just maybe, he would come out crying. But that didn't happen, no matter how much faith I had. It's been a roller coaster to balance my faith and reality. God's plan is all about family, but He took my son for some reason. He took my family. I am still trying to figure all of that out. This experience has undoubtedly strained my spirituality and relationship with God but also gave me this need not to let go. I need to see my son again, so I need to believe that God is real and families can be together forever.

What forms of self-care do you find helpful?

Making time for myself has been necessary. I have been trying to focus on myself because I lost my sense of self while I was pregnant. I had planned my life around Elijah, only to come out of the situation wondering, "What now?" I spend my time reading books, crocheting, and working on my mental and physical health. It's okay to focus on yourself.

What is your favorite thing about pineapples?

I love eating grilled pineapples at Tucanos. So, I guess my favorite thing is its versatility. Grilled or not grilled!

What is your favorite type of butterfly?

My first thought is a Monarch. But that's mainly because I don't know if a lot of butterflies! After spending time on Google, I'd pick the Morpho Aurora if you told me to pick one that isn't a monarch.

What quotes, scriptures, mottos, mantras (etc.) have helped you?

Families can be together forever.

It's okay not to be okay.

What do you wish other people knew about your experience?

I wish others knew that being affected by Elijah's death after two years is okay and that I may still cry at five or 20 years! This kind of grief is ongoing.

I wish other people knew that it's okay to talk about it. Heck, I wish more people would ask me: "What happened?"

What advice would you give someone who is expecting a baby after experiencing a loss?

I feel like anything I have to say doesn't hold much weight because I haven't experienced that yet. My first thought is: "What happened before doesn't mean it's going to happen again." I say that, but I am sure that would be very difficult to believe since I barely believe it myself.

Another thought is: Do not be afraid to love this next baby. It doesn't mean you love your last one any less. It doesn't mean you can't love this one to the same capacity. They are BOTH your babies, and I KNOW you love them equally.

If you were asking these questions, what would you ask yourself? What is your answer?

I would ask myself: "What are some things you think about a lot?" My answer would be - what would Elijah be like today? What would I get him for his birthday? What would I dress him up as for Halloween? Would I get him those cute baby shoes I saw at Walmart? Would I cut his hair or let it grow? Would I, would I, would I…

If you were to write a book about your story, what would you title it?

Maybe "What Could've Been". I think that's what I would pick because I am CONSTANTLY asking myself, per the question above, "What would I do with Elijah?"

How did you pick his name?

His full name is Elijah Lyon Kent Smith. Honestly, we named him Elijah because we liked the name. Lyon is a family name. Kent is Peter's dad's name. We went with a first name and two middle names because that is what Peter was given, and then I made my maiden last name my middle name once we got married.

Thank you, Rowena, for sharing Elijah's Story and letting us remember and honor him today!

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