Oh, those triggers find me anywhere

Today I was sitting in my favourite spot in the garden during my lunch break. The spring sun was warm on my back, a deliciously naughty chip sandwich rested on my lap, and I was scrolling through a few Facebook reels.

My big, round pregnant belly was bulging in front of me as I anxiously passed the time until we could be induced.

And then it hit me.

Suddenly, I remembered why I deleted Facebook from my phone all those years ago.

A video appeared of an umbilical cord with a true knot, being manipulated and moved, accompanied by a caption about the wonders of Mother Nature. About how babies can have these knots in their cords, tightly wrapped around their bodies, and still be born safely.

Which, I suppose, they can.

But there can be other outcomes, too.

My son died from a tight true knot and cord wrapping.

I don't thank Mother Nature for giving him a cord that could cope. I loathe the fact that he fell on the wrong side of the statistics. I feel guilty that we didn't know. I'm dumbfounded that the science we trusted let him down. I'm angry at the professionals who delayed his post-dates appointment.

And I get the same big feelings when I hear about a pregnancy going beyond 40 weeks with a blasé "she'll be right" attitude.

Maybe she will.

Maybe she won't.

But I know these big feelings, while always valid, will simmer back down in a day or two. Once the sting has subsided.

So, what did I do?

Of course, I started writing a comment in my head.

My big feelings had been completely triggered, and my urge to write about Tommy on that post was magnetic. I opened the comments and saw a mixture of responses.

Some mothers praised the video and shared stories of their healthy babies being born with true knots.

But there were others like me, too.

Parents warning about the potential danger of these so-called "cord accidents". Parents describing the devastation that can follow. Parents asking for trigger warnings, calling for greater awareness, and giving a voice to the babies who had died.

And I wondered:

Would we post a video of a serious car crash on Facebook and compliment Mother Nature on the fact that, miraculously, no one died?

No? Well, why not?

It would be disrespectful and uncompassionate.

Because, statistically speaking, many people don't survive.

And their families don't survive in the same way either.

They are forever changed, grieving the loss of someone they love.

So why don't we offer families who have lost their babies the same respect?

Statistically speaking, there are more deaths associated with infertility, miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, molar pregnancy, stillbirth, termination for medical or other reasons, infant death and other pregnancy losses than there are deaths on our roads.

Yet our grief is so often forced into the shadows.

I saw one comment on that post bluntly suggesting that trigger warnings aren't needed.

Easy for you to say, buddy.

The world can be unhinged when it doesn't know what to say to grieving parents.

I've endured comments like:

"Well, you're young. You can try again."

“At least you have your daughter, it wasn't your first.”

And:

"Well, we don't know. He could have been disabled. Maybe it's better this way."

What I don't hear the world saying is:

"Oh, I'm so sorry your dad died in that horrific car crash. But it's okay, your mum survived."

Or:

"Maybe it's for the best that he died. He could have been disabled."

Or, my personal favourite:

"It's okay. You can always get another dad."

Because we would never say those things.

We understand that our loved ones are not replaceable.

So why does the world sometimes speak about our babies as though they are?

When your life has been touched by the most profound of losses, triggers can find you anywhere.

Sometimes they are expected, and over time we can learn to manage our reactions to them.

But me and my chip sandwich did not seek out that video.

We didn't need that reel.

And we shouldn't have to stumble across something so deeply connected to our trauma without warning.

We just want the world to be a little more considerate of the way grief and trauma can show up in our everyday lives.

These were not simply clumps of cells that died, like a skin tag to be removed and forgotten.

They are our babies. Our children.

They were already a pivotal part of our lives, our futures and our identities.

Let's ask the world to show them the same respect it would show any other human being who died — and the same compassion to the heartbroken families left behind.

I will never stop talking about Tommy.

He will never fade from existence in our family.

And I will never stop grieving him.

Babies are not replaceable.

So maybe a simple trigger warning isn't the entire answer.

But I keep coming back to one question: What is the harm in including one?

It won't prevent every trigger.

It won't make grief easier.

It won't change what happened.

But it is a start.

It is a small acknowledgement that what some people are watching is not simply an interesting medical phenomenon.

For someone else, it may be the story of the worst day of their life. The catalyst that sent their whole world spinning. The grief that follows them everyday.

And sometimes, in an otherwise triggering world, a little warning is simply a little compassion.

Tommy's Mum x