What to Expect When You're Expecting... After a SIDS Death

The decision to have more children after the death of my son was an easy one.  I have found in working with parents, that often times the decision is easy and in black and white; its usually either a 'yes' or a 'no'.

For me, the answer was NO! 

The thought and fear of going through this again was enough to not want to have children again.  Afterall, I had Caleb.  Caleb was over a year old now.  He was safe from SIDS... right?

My paranoia overtook me.  After the initial stages of grief, and when I finally started getting out of bed again, I found myself shook with anxiety.  I began checking on Caleb, sometimes every five minutes or so.  I needed to make sure he was breathing.  Naptime, I would sometimes sit next to him with my hand on his belly to feel his chest rise and fall.  I guess, somewhere in the back of my mind I thought if it was going to happen again --- I was going to catch it; I was going to save Caleb; I was going to beat it.

Night-time- forget about it.  Night-time was always the worst.  I checked on Caleb relentlessly.  I tried to stop the paranoia from overtaking me. 

When the inner confines of my mind would begin to nag: "Go check on Caleb, Jes.  He's not breathing."

I would really try to talk myself down: "Jes, you just checked on Caleb 5 minutes ago.  He is fine.  He is breathing." 

Paranoia would again overtake my rational thinking: "If you don't check, this could be the one time you didn't check and something could be seriously wrong.  He's not breathing, Jes.  He's not breathing!  GO CHECK!"

I would check again.

Sometimes, when I would check, Caleb would sleep so soundly that his breaths appeared very shallow.  At those times, I would wake him up purposely just to make sure he was okay. 

After exhausting myself to the point of passing out most nights, I often woke up in a panic; jumping to my feet and running to check on Caleb.

Since losing Aiden to SIDS, I have had two additional children - my girls, Adia (5) and Maia (3).

Looking back the paranoia I went through with Caleb was nothing compared to what I went through with my subsequent babies.

I have encountered Moms from both sides of the fence.  Some like me, too scared to have another child and go through this horror again and some who couldn't wait to have another baby, to somehow fill the void, to feel like a mother again. 

First and foremost, it is a personal decision to have another child, especially after such a traumatic loss.  I believe, however, when you're in those initial stages of grief, your mind is still stuck in a fog trying to comprehend what just happened.  And unclear mind shouldn't make lifelong decisions and commitments.

As a grieving parent, yes, we are left with a void; a hole in our hearts.  We are left with an indescribable lonliness and helplessness.  Our logical mind says to fill that void.  What better way than try to replace or duplicate what we've lost, right?   Wrong. 

The reality of it is Aiden died.  His memory lives on in my heart, of course --- but Aiden died.  Having another ten babies, will not replace that void or heal your heart. 

When making the decision to have another child, this reality needs to be accepted.  If you bring a new baby into the world, into your world, where you have not fully dealt with or learned to cope, is irresponsible and unfair, in my  opinion.  This may sound harsh, however, this new child is entitled to their own identity and a life with parents who have the time and the ability to love them unconditionally. 

Aiden died June 15, 2004 --- I had Adia October 24, 2005.  Whether my pregnancy was an accident or subconciously purposeful, I was pregnant. 

My entire pregnancy, I felt in a safe.  Weird, right?  I feared the day I would have to give birth and bring her home.  I feared SIDS.  I missed Aiden.  I had no idea what I was in for.

I delivered Adia via C-Section on October 24, 2005.  She was stunning.  The paranoia, however, set in almost immediately.   When she was delivered in the operating room, she didn't cry right away.  I freaked.  I yelled for the doctors to hold her close to me so I could feel her chest rise and fall. 

I refused to allow them to take Adia to the nursery.  I just knew they weren't going to watch her.  They weren't going to make sure she was breathing. 

I refused to take pain medication after the C-Section.  I couldn't fall asleep.  If I did, who was going to make sure Adia was breathing.  I had to hold her, or leave my hand on her belly.  I would deal with the physical pain, but I couldn't fall asleep - or she would ultimately die, I just knew she would.

Jaundice is common in babies.  But for me, jaundice felt like a death sentence.  In fact, the day after I took Adia home from the hospital she had to be brought to the lab to get bloodwork done in order to test her blood to see if the jaundice was getting better or worse.  It was at this point, looking back, I realized just how ridiculous my paranoia got.

I fell to my knees, hysterically screaming at the lab technician:  "Is she going to die?!?! Is she going to die?!?!?!"

My children are now 8, 5, and 3.  While I hve learned to contain and deal with my paranoid thoughts, for the most part, they are still there; and yes, they still sometimes eat at me.  I still check to see if their bellies rise and fall before I go to bed, yes, even my 8 year old. 

Having a baby, as we all know, is a huge responsibility in its own respect.
Having a baby, after a SIDS death, is more than just responsibility; it can be a battle.

I don't like to deter anyone.  I'm glad I have my girls.  I'm glad I got pregnant unexpectedly with Adia.  My girls have shown me that all babies don't die; my girls have given me a second chance; my girls have given me two more reasons to wake up in the morning. 

But having a baby, after burying a baby, is not all sunshine and roses.  Prepare yourself, deal with your grief, and be in a positiion where you can give all of yourself to your child.

Love, Jes