Our pregnancy with my sweet angel, Skylar Rose, was very serene and easy. It was really meant to be. I felt like everything was falling into place while carrying her.
On 09/05/25, my baby had just turned 38 weeks, which was very exciting and yet a little nerve-wracking, because I was thinking I would be meeting my daughter in the next two weeks. I was trying to prepare myself mentally and physically I had my nails and hair done as well. Surprisingly, I also had a feeling that something was wrong. I woke up and monitored my baby’s movements and did not feel them as strongly. I texted my midwife, who advised me to go to the Maternity Assessment Centre (MAC).
My husband, my son who was just one year and 11 months and I drove to MAC, which was only eight minutes away. While in the car, I had a split thought of “What if the baby is dead?” and I stopped myself from thinking that.
When we arrived at MAC, we were seen straight away. As they always do, the midwife tried to find the heartbeat, and I saw a look on her face that told me something was wrong. After a minute or so, she stepped out and said she needed to get the doctor. My heart sank, because it wouldn’t be that hard to find the heartbeat of a 38-week-old baby.
The doctor came in, and I remember his face so clearly. He looked tired, and I remember the moment he said, “I am so sorry, there is no heart. I am so sorry.” Instantly, I noticed how sad he looked, and I felt sorry for him that he had to deliver this news. Then I snapped out of that thought and thought of my poor baby, my husband, and my son. Time froze.
I do not remember much of what happened next, but my husband said I voiced, “There is a scripture that says God does not give you more than you can bear.” I think I said other things too. I am a fixer I like to fix things and I wanted to know what the next thing I needed to do was.
I then called my doula, Erika, and it was at that moment that my world truly stopped. I voiced out loud for the first time that my baby was dead, and I broke down. I remember the pain like it is now. It is the worst pain I will ever and forever feel.
I did not know the gender. After being admitted and moved to our hospital room, it was just my husband, my son, and me. I asked my husband what the gender was, and when he told me, it was one of the best pieces of news I received that day. I couldn’t wait to meet my beautiful girl.
We had shortlisted names for each gender, and that day the name my husband had chosen Skylar felt perfect for our beautiful daughter. In between planning for delivery and planning paperwork such as the birth certificate and death certificate, my husband and I found solace in knowing her gender, imagining who she would look like, and choosing her name.
Her name was picked by her father, who loves her so much. It was heartbreaking seeing my husband in so much pain. I decided to add Rose to her name in honour of my husband’s grandmother, who means so much to us, and because I truly love the name. These thoughts and conversations helped keep us sane that day.
I kept going back and forth between dreaming of what could have been and being terrified of the impending labour because birthing my daughter meant I would have to let her go. I was not scared of the pain of labour; I feared birthing her, because that meant the end of our perfect journey together. Part of me was in protection mode, hurting so deeply that I did not want to hurt even more. I considered a C-section because it felt like a painless option compared to labouring without hearing the reward of my baby crying afterward.
After many discussions with my husband, my doula, my friend Kadi (who came to the hospital), my beautiful one and only sister Thandi, and my midwife Beth, I decided to be induced and attempt a vaginal birth.
My induction went well. My contractions started around 10:50 pm. We drove to the hospital and arrived by 11:00 pm, and by 23:23 hours, the perfect time, my beautiful Sky was born.
She was born with just myself and The Best Father in the world my husband in the MAC rest room, as we were still waiting to be triaged. Her birth was fast, and she was so gentle to me.
When I held her, she looked so peaceful.
I had an out-of-body experience when I was being wheeled from the MAC rest room to the hospital bed to birth my placenta. I saw my husband breaking. I saw myself being wheeled down the hallway, which looked gloomy, like a very sad movie. My poor baby was so still, and there was no sound. The silence was so loud. I felt like everyone’s eyes, the two pregnant women sitting in emergency knew my baby was dead.
Everything felt like a blur and incredibly sad, but when we got to the room, I came back into myself. The moments were filled with holding her, embracing her, breaking down, and loving her. We bathed her and dressed her in the romper my husband chose that said, “I love my mummy.”
My husband said she had the same palm lines in her hands as he does. She had so much hair on her head, a part of which I have kept. Everyone said she looked like me, so I won against my husband, which felt good. I loved the experience she brought that I got to have her for a day, which I will forever cherish.
In the early hours of 10/05/25, my sister and my son came to the hospital. They met her. My son was sleepy and did not warm up to her typical toddler behaviour and he called her “Sleepin” which was funny and I felt complete in that moment. My whole world was in that hospital room, all my favourite people were in that room with me, and I knew I would never have a night like that again.
I tried to enjoy every moment and make the most of it. My husband, my sister, and I took turns holding her, though we could not hold her continuously as she needed to be placed in her cooling bassinet, so her body stayed cool, my special girl.
I remember feeling so tired from birth that I was falling asleep. My husband and son slept on the conjoining bed next to mine, and I slept beside her bassinet. I held her, cuddled her, placed her back, and admired how beautiful she was. I remember feeling sleepy and asking my sister to watch her when I dozed off.
My mind was caught between knowing she was still and being very much in mum mode not falling asleep to deeply because I had a newborn. I remember feeling like I needed to breastfeed and make sure she was not unsettled, as if she were alive.
In the morning around 9:00 am, family and friends came to spend time with her, and I will forever be indebted to them.
When it was time to leave the hospital, two midwives came with us through the back lifts which I did not even know existed so they could walk us out and then go back in with her. I carried her outside, we took a group photos with all my loved ones and her it is one of my favourite photo and will forever be. We said goodbye, kissed her, and I handed her over to one of the midwives before walking toward the car with everyone.
About a minute into the walk, I suddenly thought, I just gave birth. I need my baby. I ran back. I think I was limping from the pain of birth. My family ran behind me. I remember reaching the glass sliding doors of the hospital and seeing the midwives just getting to the lifts. I banged on the door, crying for my baby.
When they turned and saw me, I felt relief thank God I caught them before they went into the lift, as if that was the only thing keeping me from taking my baby home. In that moment, I thought, What kind of mother leaves her baby at the hospital? I need to take my baby home. I did not think about whether she was alive or not. I just knew she was my baby, and she needed me.
My family and friends caught up. I fell into the arms of one of my friend’s who had just arrived Vongai, and I fell to the ground. My knees felt weak. She knelt with me and cried with me. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I couldn’t live or leave without her.
The nurses came out and gave me back my baby. We sat on a bench outside. I felt the sunshine on me and looked at my daughter, and I felt happy that she was there with me. Everyone gathered around. I showed my friend Vongai how beautiful she was. I don’t remember exactly what she said, but I know her words were uplifting, and I felt at peace.
I caressed my baby and gave her as many kisses as I could. I thought of running away with her, but then I thought of my husband and my beautiful son, Ryker. I felt torn I felt like I needed to be in death with Skylar, but I live for my husband and our son.
When I ran back, my son had started crying for me, and I thought Skylar would not want her brother crying. I had to share the love. After a few minutes of crying and holding her, I felt it was too cold for my little girl, and it was only right that she went back indoors.
I gave her back to the nurses. This time, they did not walk away with her. They stood there and waited for us to leave, then they left. That felt easier, like I had given her to them to hold for me instead of leaving her behind.
I tried not to look back, and we left. That was the last time I saw her, and I am at peace with that. She now lives in my heart, where she is safe, and I look forward to the time when I will see her again.
My sweet, beautiful Sky 🤍
Thank you to Esnart, Skylar-Rose’s mother, for sharing her story.