I've done quite well at not blaming myself for Freddie's death. It's either been helped by, or I'm in denial because of, feelings I had while I was pregnant.

I just wasn't happy. He was my fifth child, I knew all about being pregnant but somehow, much as I bonded with him, loved him, cherished him and enjoyed him, I just didn't believe that I'd be bringing him home. I couldn't see him in our future, listening to his heartbeat never comforted me, I didn't feel right, I couldn't shake the sense that there was something wrong. I had secret fears of him breaking my daughters' hearts, I had this image of him, from 2 dreams, with his eyes shut and knowing he wouldn't open them, I had worries about the way he moved and some of the things he did.

I felt silly buying things, I bought no outfits bar two tiny things, I didn't get the cot out or make him a room, or put a drawer ready for his clothes.

I knitted a blanket and I had images of him wrapped in it when he died, which he was.

When he was born, I took one look at him and said "He's going to die."

I can't shake the sense that I just knew, I just did. I'm not even surprised by what's happened. I've got a huge list of all the odd things that I said or felt or worried about which don't fit with how I've been in previous pregnancies - it was so odd. I even blogged that I didn't feel like I would have a baby, when our rabbit died a few weeks before the first thing I wrote to my friends was "I'm worried this is a cosmic preparation for the girls because something will happen to the baby." When I first knew I was pregnant, I wrote "either we'll finally get something nice in April, or we'll get a tragedy."

I just wondered if anyone else had had fears that niggled? None of this can be explain by medicine but the doctors took it surprisingly seriously in the absence of any other explanation for his terrible state of health. Did anyone else just 'know' they weren't bringing a baby home?

When I read this on your blog it got me to thinking about the same thing. While my intuition was not quite as strong as yours, when I look back I definitely see things- little things.

Cullen came to us after three live children followed by two early miscarriages. When I made it through the first few weeks with him I thought 'this is good- we are OK- he will come'.

Then it started.

When we learned Cullen was a boy I decided to sell all of my daughter's clothing as I would not need pink anymore. Then when I actually stared selling her clothes this little nagging thought would enter my mind every time another dress or outfit went out my front door... what if I should not be doing this... what if something goes wrong?
I thought it was strange never having felt anything like this in my previous pregnancies... so why was I suddenly feeling it then? I thought it over and over but learned to brush it aside- 'crazy thoughts' I would say to myself. But always there lingering in some dark corner.

I always prepare certain things before my babies arrive- I realize there was a lack of that with Cullen's pregnancy. Perhaps because I still had a few more weeks I would have done more...

We co-sleep with the babies for the first six months so there was no need to rush to prepare a crib, or to paint his room- and I kept putting off choosing the perfect shade of green

I did not pull out all of the baby boy clothes to wash and fold neatly into his drawer

I always work on the birth announcements before birth- I called the designer but got her voicemail.. I did not leave a message. I never called again until after he died to work on his birth/death announcement...

I had paperwork that needed to be filled out for the Cord Blood storage.. I kept putting it off

I never pre-registered at the hospital

I understand what you mean when you say it was just odd- even reading this list of mine doesn't make it amount to much of anything, but still there is just that part of me that sees all these little little things and wonders if some part of me knew.
It was just different this time.

every single time i went to the loo when i was pregnant i expected to see blood. i hoped that after the 12 week scan was ok that i would believe everything was ok, but i didn't; i still expected blood every time. ironic, seeing as i only started bleeding four days after finding out the baby had died.

i never imagined us with a baby while i was pregnant. i never realised that until afterwards. never imagined myself or D with a baby in my/his arms. never worried about how we'd fit a cot into our bedroom.

i never bought anything for the baby. not until after it had died already. i felt kind of weird that one of D's friends bought us a couple of things.

... and yet, sitting in the scan room after my midwife was unable to find a heartbeat, waiting to hear what they said, i genuinely thought everything was going to be ok. i think that was the only point in my pregnancy that i really did believe everything would be fine. ironic, huh?

i think the pessimism that follows a loss is going to be hard to take. like, if i feel the same next time, is that because the next baby is fated to die too, or just because i expect the same outcome?

i don't think it sounds like you're in denial merry.

as far as i go i just wish all this had somehow prepared me for the truth :(

I had serious pre-term labor issues with my first son, as well as hyperemesis...so I knew I was in for a struggle with a twin pregnancy. Unfortuntely, at only 8 1/2 weeks, I had a serious bleeding episode and was diagnosed with a subchorionic hematoma. My peri told me I had about a 50/50 chance of losing the pregnancy. I did bedrest until the hematoma went away around 17 weeks. Then, just as I started to feel more hope, I began having early contractions...and was in and out of the hospital starting at 20 weeks. By 24 weeks, I finally felt like I could take a small breath since I was at the hollowed mark of viability. I was in complete shock when they couldn't find Will's heartbeat at my 25 weeks appnt. I thought I might have preemies who would be very sick...but it didn't cross my mind that I might just lose a baby in utero with no warning, reason or signs.

I wrote in my blog recently that there is no satisfaction in the fruition of a fear.

I had a loss at 13 weeks gestation before my pregnancy with Sierra, so I attributed these feelings during her pregnancy to typical pregnancy after loss worries. But yes, I always had the feeling that she wasn't mine to keep. Even after ultrasounds at 12 and 18 weeks turned up no problems, I worried and I didn't truly believe I'd bring her home alive. When another ultrasound at 22 weeks revealed there was a problem, I wasn't really surprised. Crushed, yes; surprised, no. I still held out hope, though, even after we found out how growth restricted she was, that maybe she would be okay, but I also wasn't shocked or surprised when she died. Just very very sad.

When I was 37 wks, I dreamt my baby was born dead. I dreamt that an aquaintance, Z-man, who has schizophrenia had asked to hold my baby. In my dream he told me that no one ever let him hold a live baby because of his condition. I let him hold my baby. This is where it gets crazier. In my dream Z-man thought my baby was dirty so he put it in the clothes washer to get her cleaned up. He then cut off the head and hands, and returned those to me in the blanket because that is all I needed since that is all someone really remembers about a loved one when they die; their face and their hands. I woke up crying and shaking. I could barely talk to my husband about why I was so hysterical. It was horrible.

My husband was fighting with the doctor from that point on to try to find a reason to induce labor...I did not want to be induced. I wanted to be pregnant as long as I could. He asked me what we would do if our baby died. I told him, matter of factly, we would be sad, but we would get through it.

At 39 weeks, I was admitted to the hospital with pre-eclampsia. I was not happy to be there. They began the process of induction. I agreed, but felt sad, I couldn't explain it. During labor, the umbilical cord prolapsed. I knew it was over. They told me they had fetal heart tones at 140 prior to surgery. I knew it was a mistake. I knew they would not get the baby out in time.

I awoke from anesthesia in recovery. My husband told me our daughter didn't make it. I told him, "I know."

Charlotte was my first, but somehow I knew. Every time we bought a baby related item I felt ashamed and embarrassed. I wondered why we were buying so many things we would never use. I never saw us holding her. I couldn't imagine our lives with her in it. I never said anything because I thought it was first time mama nerves.

When I went in for my 24 week appointment and my midwife found her heart rate right away, but then noticed it was skipping beats I thought that was the end. The next day we went to the specialists and they said everything was fine with her heart. Somewhere around 30-32 weeks I couldn't feel her move. I pushed and pushed and pushed on my belly. After 30 long minutes she moved. She was just sleeping, but I thought she was gone. At 37 weeks I stopped feeling her move as much. When I told my secondary midwife she said not to worry, that I was having contractions, that the baby was fine. And then at 38 weeks I went into labor and everything was fine until she was born. They placed her in my arms for a few seconds and I knew she was going to die. Then my midwife took her from me and they began trying to save her. When they came to me and told me she had died in the hospital while I laid in a bed at the birthing center exhausted from a 26 hour labor and a mild hemorrhage I realized that was the moment I had been waiting for, and expecting, all along.

Since I had Freddie, I've heard so many people say these things. If it weren't for my blog and my friends, I'd think I was retrospectively trying to find reasons but I know it isn't that.

Even in the hospital one doctor asked me and I felt my face just fall, as all those anxieties I had had just rushed in on me. She looked sadly at me and said "sometimes mothers just know" and she wasn't the only one to say it. The resuss doctor was asking my doula if I'd had anxieties even when I was still in the delivery room - and she knew I had been worried sick.

I think back to the dream, when I was just 6/7 weeks pregnant, of looking at a child with its eyes just tight shut and know that I just knew. I worried all the time he would be blind, it somehow never occurred to me that babies who as as good as dead don't open their eyes.

Thank you for the answers and your stories. I'm struggling with this right now and it helps not to be alone.

Cheryl that dream sounds horrific. I'm sorry your psyche saw fit to inflict that on you. Just another layer of torment to add to the loss of your baby.

I'm sorry you're struggling with all this Merry. It's not fair.

Oh, Cheryl, that dream is chilling. I am so sorry for all that you had to endure (as I am for the rest of us).

I, too, knew. When I was about 14 weeks pregnant, the world started going crazy with H1N1 madness. I became obsessed with whether I should get the H1N1 flu shot. I was convinced that, if I didn't get the shot, my baby would die because of the flu. I was also convinced that if I did get the shot, the vaccine would terribly harm the baby. I wrestled with the decision for weeks and was literally sick over it. Ultimately, I tracked down a mercury free version of the vaccine and got the shot. I calmed down for about a week after that, but then I started bleeding with a subchorionic hematoma and the rest was downhill from here.

I knew that my daughter was in jeopardy. I just thought the danger was coming from another direction.

Steph, me too. I agonised over swine flu and decided not to in the end. I'm so glad now because I'd be in terror it had harmed him.

Cheryl. Poor, poor you :( I thought my dream was bad enough :(

I think I knew.

Like some of you have said, I had a loss at 11 weeks prior to that pregnancy, so everything I was feeling, I attributed to being typical pregnancy-after-loss stuff. But looking back on it....I don't know. I think I knew.

I was just a nervous wreck the whole time. I also thought that once we saw everything was fine at 12 weeks, I would feel better. And I did, a little. But not much. I have a little doppler that a friend gave me after she was done with it, and I remember obsessively listening to his heartbeat, multiple times a day. But not really feeling any relief after hearing it. I didn't get very big with him, I didn't gain much weight, and of course at the time I attributed it to running after my toddler son, and eating more healthfully, but I can distinctly remember thinking "what if something isn't right with him" and picturing him being deformed. Of course, at the time, you figure these are worries every mother has, but....I think I knew.

Our ultrasound tech was really quiet during our 19 week ultrasound, and although she said things were fine, as we were walking out I told my husband that something was wrong. Sure enough, we get a call from the doctor and she sends us to perinatology and then I could see it, clear as day, his head and his brain and his spine and I just remember thinking....."there it is".

Will I ever feel normal during a pregnancy again, even if it's a healthy one? I don't know. But I do think I knew.

Oh Cheryl I cannot imagine waking from such a nightmare.
Merry I am so glad you posted this because I think it helps all of us who have that little voice in the back of our minds that we are just never quite sure of.

Yes, I had that feeling with Anna. She was my first, but she was an IVF baby, so I felt all along, "This is too good to be true." Every time I went to the OB, and they looked for the heartbeat, I thought they wouldn't find it, but they did. Every time. I had to see a peri, because my quad screen showed her at very high risk for Down's. She didn't have it. They told me she might have Spina Bifida because something (MFP?) in the amnio was abnormal. She didn't. Then she was born at 31 weeks, and the doctors told me she had an excellent chance of survival.

While she was in the NICU, I bought her stuff. I clearly remember thinking, "Why are you buying this? She's never going to use this." I saw those letters you can buy that spell out your child's name online. (To puy above her crib.) I said to myself, "She might not come home...I should wait." About a week later, I bought them. I said to myself, "She will be FINE...you have no reason to think something bad wil happen."


Whenever I would picture her as a child, it didn't work. About 3 days before she died, I thought of her riding her bike. But all I saw was her current baby head on the body if a 5 or 6 year old. While she was hospitalized, I kept telling my friend, "This is too good to be true." I hate being right.

For those who don't know, my daughter was released from the NICU, came home with us for 2 nights, then died in the ER with sepsis on a fucked up, horrific Sunday.

Those damn letters that spelled A-n-n-a arrived at my house 2 days after I buried her.

There were definite moments I can look back at and know there was a premonition. We just had SO many problems, but every single time I had another bleeding episode or something, we would find Gabe's heartbeat and it would be fine. I remember with Chickadee being totally and completely unable to read posts about miscarriage on my pregnancy board. And then it was me.

Two women had second tri losses in the month before Gabe was born and I remember being unable to read those posts. They just hit me in a way that the miscarriage posts did. I did read them, to try and support those women, but it felt wrong.

I think I knew, deep down, that something wasn't right. I remember telling the doctor that when I went in after the worst bleeding episode. I'd had a lot of them, some of them making my bathroom resemble a horror movie set - blood running down my legs, splattered all over . . . but this was the worst - passing clots as big as the palm of my hand, one after another after another. But he was fine on the scan, and I don't think the doc really understood what I was trying to say about how wrong it was. I let him placate me, and I should've pushed harder or gotten a second opinion.

But the worst part for me was after that appointment. I had 2 weeks without bleeding, had my 'big' u/s which confirmed Gabe was perfect and healthy and doing well (with all the bleeding there was some concern about growth restriction or placental malfunction. And they confirmed the previa was gone. For the first time in that pregnancy I believed we were going to be parents. I believed we were going to bring him home. Four perfect days - we finished the registry and bought all these clothes for him. The afternoon before he was born was spent taking the tags off all the clothes and organizing them by size into a bin.

I think that was one of the things that made my mom breakdown in front of me when she came to stay with us after Gabriel was born - that box of clothes sitting there, all proudly organized.

Eliza, I had that terrible 'near giddy' time as well with the twins. I was told my subchorionic hematoma healed around 17 weeks...and then we learned we were having a boy and a girl not long after that. And then, even though I started having PTL symptoms...the babies' heartbeats and growth rates always looked perfect AND my cervix was staying nice and long with my bedrest. And then I suddenly was 24 weeks and going strong!!!! The week before I lost Will, I ordered an extra car seat. And I had a twin double stroller and a twin nursing pillow on hold for me from Craigslist. The day Will died, I had to email those people and tell them we didn't need the stroller and pillow afterall.

We were supposed to pick up a huge bunch of boy's clothes from a craigslist seller the evening I delivered Gabe. When I went to the hospital I asked my husband to reschedule the meeting. He didn't tell her why though - at the time, we thought I'd be able to go get them later in the week.

She sent a pretty irate email when we didn't confirm our appt and I had to send her one back that said - yeah, the reason we rescheduled was because I was in hospital and my baby died, so I don't need the clothes anymore.

And I remember feeling so awful sending that, because she was a stranger, she didn't know, and I thought about how horribly I would feel getting that email and it made me feel bad to send it. But at the same time, I seemed incapable of not defending myself or just saying we'd changed our minds. . .

I also sensed it, despite my innocence and the complete lack of evidence of a problem. Not all the time, mind - but there was a definite lurking suspicion. Interestingly this pregnancy, when you would think I would be paranoid, I'm mostly not.

I think mothers do just know.

I keep wondering about this myself.

Did I know?

Or, if he had been okay, and was alive today, would I just be thinking to myself, "what a worrier I was..."

Because I've had premonitions about my dogs not being okay, for example, and they've never proved to be true.

But yes, I might have known.

I had fears all along. They got excruciatingly strong and scary during labor. I really think my intuition at that point kicked in, and yes, I think by that point I knew. But it was my first time in labor - maybe everyone hits a "scary" point at some point in there?

My fears during pregnancy were mostly that my baby was going to be born with special needs, though. I never imagined that he wasn't going to live. I mean, sure, I had fears they wouldn't find the heartbeat at all of our appointments, but they always did.

So maybe I'm the outsider here, saying "no, I don't think I really did know." Because even when he was in the NICU, on life support and with no brain activity whatsoever, I still really thought he was going to get to go home with us at some point. Maybe that was the shock speaking. Who knows.

Sarah, I'd have to join you in the outsider camp. I honestly thought I'd be bringing my daughter home too. I was worried throughout my pregnancy but at a fairly superficial level, underneath, at my core, I felt certain that everything would be fine. As the pregnancy got more complicated, I was still sure. I'd bought a twin stroller, two car seats, two bouncy chairs, two sets of clothes.

I had a wobble when I found out that I was in labour far too early but when the doctors told me that they had stabilized both the babies and they were both alive I felt certain again. I think part of me was certain right up until the point the doctors confirmed her death. I think some stupid part of me still expects her to come home, even over two years later.

I don't know if it is because the girls were my first pregnancy or if I just have horrible skew maternal instincts. For the first twelve week I was convinced I was expecting a boy and turns out I was expecting two girls. Perhaps that should have taught me not to trust myself?

In my subsequent pregnancy, I had a bad feeling from the beginning and, sure enough, it ended in as a blighted ovum.

These were so heartbreaking to read. I can't decide which is worse, to have been filled with foreboding and worry or to have naively assumed everything would be fine only to have it all ripped away from you.

Cheryl, that dream must have been so terrifying, even reading about it has left me feeling shaken.

Christine, my heart aches for you. I'm so sorry.

i was still utterly shocked at what happened. i didn't put any of these things into place until after we lost the baby. long after, even. months. sarah, catherine, don't think you are somehow less because you didn't know on some level.

i would have rather believed everything was going to be ok, because even with everything i said earlier, i still was utterly, utterly shocked when we found out we'd lost the baby.

i'm still shocked even now.

There was a lot of shock for me too. Even as I lay there in the hospital, I knew I was in labor. I remember sitting down in radiology, wrapped in a sheet, sweating, nauseous, crying, in pain, and looking at my husband and saying it's too late, it's too late. I know it.

And then they took me back up to triage and the resident told me the baby was fine, and even then, I knew it - but I also still believed her. Until they told me they couldn't do anything, one large part of me stubbornly believed they would stop labor and it would be hideous to be on bedrest forever, but that was ok, because they'd stop it and Gabe was fine and that's why you went to the hospital, so they could stop the labor.

It was both a complete horror-filled shock that they didn't/couldn't do anything and completely unsurprising, because I knew it.

So much of my life since I got pregnant with Gabriel has been lived in a split. A fracture in time. Elizabeth McCracken talked about how, after the birth of her second son, it sometimes felt terribly familiar, as if she'd done it all before, as if the universe had split, and somewhere she was taking care of both her children. I understand that. Sometimes it felt like time split and part of me went on - they stopped labor and I had a baby boy. Sometimes he was born, but impossibly lived. Such an odd thing, but so familiar.

Eliza - I haven't been able to bring myself to read the Elizabeth McCracken book. Even now, over two years later, I simply can't face it. But that concept, a fracture in time, makes perfect sense to me. Perhaps that is why a part of me is still waiting for my other daughter to come home? Because somewhere, somehow, she did? Somewhere I'm taking care of both of them?

Yes, I can relate to that. I looked back at my blog the other day and saw that in one post I had written about not letting go and in the next, written to Freddie, I had talked about how I'd be okay and needed to move on. And it occurred to me I'm parenting him, reassuring him I'm okay, even though he's dead and it can't matter. But I still do. Because what if it does?

When I was pregnant with my first dd, I had an obsession she would have something wrong with her face; I had flashes of anger at perfect baby faces in pushchairs and used to skip over the picture of a cleft baby in my baby book. And she was born with a cleft lip and I just though "well, yes, of course" when they showed me.

But with Freddie i assumed I was being silly, even all that intuition, all that previous experience and I just thought I was being a worrier and didn't listen to myself. And now here I am, with the knowledge that I did know and I didn't use it because, thanks to various health 'care' experiences, i no longer trusted my body.

It is one of those "hindsight is 20/20" situations, at least for me. Yes, I had a strong sense that something was going to go awry and my daughter's death confirmed that. AT the time, however, as anxious and uneasy as I was, I still clung to denial in an almost unbelievable way. I had excruciating contractions for two days. I kept clinging to the belief that I was just having bad cramps. Mind you, I had already had two kids so I knew damn well what labor felt like. I just couldn't believe that I was in it until I could no longer deny it. Honestly, I am still grateful that I went to the hospital when I did and didn't end up having my daughter at home.

I always had a feeling that Josie wasn't coming home. If ever I would buy things for her I would think that is silly what are you doing trying to fool yourself? After the fact I see that it was intuition. I never pictured her growing up. I never even thought of having her at home. I wanted to very badly. But I knew I wouldn't. I wonder if these experiences make grieving different. I think it has made things easier on me. Granted I still feel like this has been the worst thing ever but I don't grieve for what her life may have been. I never thought it would be. I never felt that I would get to keep her. Weird I know.

Kara, that really is how i felt.

I'm clinging to it today as yesterday i had a guilt ridden letter from the consultant who delivered Freddie who is blaming himself and the two hours in the pool. I'm beyond devastated. I know I did "know", I know he just wants to blame himself but the knock on of that is that I feel guilty too - I had a choice of how to birth - and it is awful. I'm forcing myself to remember how strongly I felt.

I don't know that I knew from the beginning, but I was very guarded from the start. It was so hard to be excited. Even though it was my first, I wanted to get past that 12 week hurdle. We told our parents at 8 - 10 weeks. And then everyone else found out after my 12 wk appt. I still felt cautious for some reason. Like I knew I shouldn't take it for granted.

I knew something was wrong in the end. I knew she wasn't moving. I knew she wasn't herself. I just knew something was wrong and I couldn't shake the feeling. I cried in the shower that morning. Begging God for me to be wrong, for everything to be ok. But it wasn't.

I knew. From the moment I found out I was pregnant with Maura I knew it was going to end badly. Everything felt wrong and different than my pregnancies with my boys. At least once a month I was in m OB's office saying I think I'm being a crazy preggo. She would do an u/s and even sent me for blood work several times...nothing wrong. Two days before I found out she had died, 34.5weeks, I was shopping and having a 'conversation' with God, I asked 'why?' I realize now that I asked Him that a lot in those few months leading up losing her. I was constantly telling my sisters she wasn't going to make it anywhere near her due date. I felt guilty at my baby shower but she was the first girl in the family in 12years and they were all so excited to celebrate. After that I started to get excited and thinking maybe I've been crazy, until that shopping day. When I woke up two days later I knew it was over, that was 7.5weeks ago.