“Losing our son Atlas was traumatic. But I don’t want his life to be reduced to a traumatic event. He was our first son. We’re proud of him. And we had precious moments we want to remember. Together, we worked to change the narrative so that the trauma didn’t take over. We want to honor Atlas as our child, not experience him only as loss.”
Brianna and Anthony wanted to start a family. After two years of struggling with infertility, the right diagnosis and treatment led to Brianna becoming pregnant naturally. Soon, their little family was on the way with what felt like a miracle pregnancy.
Things progressed smoothly until 22 weeks, when Brianna experienced a placental abruption caused by a fibroid that had grown and begun pressing against the placenta. For two weeks, doctors worked tirelessly to delay Atlas’s arrival and give him more time to grow. But when Brianna became fully dilated, they had no choice but to deliver him.
The memory box . . .
Atlas required an emergency C-section because he was in the breech position. Born very low birthweight at 24 weeks, he was rushed to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). Doctors suggested to Brianna and Anthony the use of donor milk to feed Atlas. Donor milk is the standard of care for very low birthweight preemies if maternal milk is not available, a typical issue when babies arrive so early. They gratefully said yes.
Atlas was struggling. He had lost 30 minutes of oxygen to his brain and doctors were concerned about his ability to successfully grow and thrive. Ultimately, his broken-hearted dad had to make the decision to stop medical intervention. Both mom and dad then spent two hours together with their baby, holding him, loving him, and saying goodbye. Atlas passed 10 hours after he came into this world. He left Brianna’s and Anthony’s world fundamentally changed forever.
After three excruciating days, Brianna was released from the hospital. They gave her a box of personal effects of baby Atlas. She and Anthony couldn’t imagine opening that box. Inside that box were their hearts in ruins. Brianna’s sister took the box home with her.
Finding courage . . .
Months later, when Brianna braved the box to find a keepsake of Atlas to bring on a grief and loss retreat, she found the lists of resources the hospital had also provided.
As a social worker who works with people experiencing crises in hospital ERs, Brianna knows she needs to find a way to encourage the hospital to review how they share resources with families experiencing loss. These resources need to be provided separately from the special, but potentially triggering, items. For now, however, she is focused on caring for herself through this unimaginably hard time.
Brianna did not find the resources that the hospitals suggested for her and her husband initially. But she did her own research and found communities of care.
Baby loss — worst club, best people . . .
First, she found Noelle’s light, a nonprofit founded by a couple who lost their daughter and realized how much families need support when navigating life-threatening fetal diagnoses or loss. There she found a community of moms who have experienced baby loss.
“That was where I learned how to ask questions and how to tell my story. Because I knew they understood. Even though our stories were different, they understood. And it was with them that I started to be able to tell my story. Because I knew they could hear it. And that they wouldn’t pity me. With other people, it sometimes felt like ‘trauma-dumping’ to tell my story. But with these moms I could say, ‘This is my story. This is how I remember.’”
Brianna also found the Adalyn Rose Foundation, an organization that supports families grieving the loss of a child during pregnancy, infancy, or early childhood. Their motto — “Worst Club, Best People” — says it all.
And of course, Brianna found us.
Love after baby loss
Through milk donation, Brianna discovered another way to honor Atlas and share his love beyond her arms. Choosing to donate milk after a loss is deeply personal, and it isn’t the right path for everyone. For some, however, knowing their milk is nourishing babies and bringing hope to families in need can provide a sense of comfort and purpose.
