Our loss story; Jackson

It was February 2020 when we were told there was something very wrong with our wanted pregnancy. After months of “everything’s fine”, we were told that our precious baby would not be coming home. As he rolled and wiggled inside my body, we were told that he was showing all of the signs of severe Skeletal Dysplasia – shortened and fractured limbs, little to no bone density, and a chest so narrow that he was unable to develop enough lung capacity to ever breathe on his own.

As we met with specialists and care teams, they were all in agreement. There would be no quality of life for our child. There would never be a time when he would breathe or walk or eat or laugh or exist outside of sedation and life support. There would never be a time when he would be able to join our family in the way our other kids had. There would never be a chance to hold him or snuggle him or celebrate those milestones we had taken for granted with our other kids.
The situation was clear. Our son was going to leave us one way or another.

As cruel as that was, it was made a thousand times worse as the options were presented. We could labour and let him pass away during delivery or suffocate shortly after – as soon as my body no longer supported him – or we could choose a surgical procedure that began with a KCl injection but not get to hold him or see him. Had I been able to have the injection then deliver, that would have been the best of the horrific options but that wasn’t available here. To save him from the pain, we opted for surgery and with it, euthanasia.

I will never forget laying under the bright lights and watching his heart stop on a little screen. I have just as many nightmares of that as I do of the ultrasound view where his arms and legs were bent in all the wrong places, at all the wrong angles.

Almost 2 years later, as I sit here still full to bursting with the pain and grief of losing Jackson and of making the choice to end his life, I would do it again. To spare him what was coming, I would take all this and more. He is safe and whole and lovely wherever he is now and for that, I would be shattered and left to pick up the pieces a thousand times over.”

By Nicole Prieur

every story matters

The Pregnancy & Infant Loss Support Centre is a non-profit registered charity that helps families connect to support on their path to healing after pregnancy or infant loss.  Families like yours can work with us and get support with a variety of services that hold space for your unique story. No matter at what stage of your parenthood journey you find yourself, your story will be heard here.

If you are ready to share your story, or you need help with your journey, get in touch with us.

For more stories like this, visit our Stories of Loss page
or visit #sharingmystoryofloss on Instagram

Book with Erin Winters

In order to book with Erin, please connect directly with our Program Assistant, Shelagh via email at shelagh@pilsc.org

NOTE: Refrain from providing detailed personal information when emailing Shelagh. Feel free to describe your challenges in brief, and leave out personal details that you only wish to share with Erin.

Shelagh

Shelagh (she/her) brings with her a solid background as an admin in a variety of areas from business, academia and now with a charitable organization with the Pregnancy & Infant Loss Support Center. She feels passionate about working in a role that benefits others in the community.

Shelagh was exposed to bereavement and deep grief at an early age and it left her with a profound sense of how fragile life is and how we need to find joy and light wherever we can. She feels privileged to be able to take this sense with her into her role with PILSC while putting her strong admin skills to good use.