Remembering Eleanor: Reflections on Grief in Midwifery

A Brief Life, a Lasting Impact

Eleanor Marie was born and gone in the blink of an eye, yet she left a permanent imprint on my heart.

I had the privilege of serving Eleanor’s family as the assistant and apprentice to their midwife. Her loss was unexpected, and it reshaped my vision of the midwife I hope to become.

The Silence of Stillbirth

We speak so little about miscarriage, and even less about stillbirth. It is easier for people to imagine the loss of a baby so tiny it can hardly be seen. But to lose a baby just before bringing them home alive conjures a silence so heavy it isolates grieving families.

A Midwife’s Role

At first glance, a midwife is a healthcare practitioner with practical skills to support mothers and babies. But we are more than that.

Eleanor taught me what no textbook could. She taught me how to hold a mother in her grief, to stand with a family in the trenches of loss, to walk out of a newborn’s funeral and step into another mother’s birth the same day. She showed me that midwifery is not only about life—it is also about being present in death.

Another Family, Another Loss

Months later, I supported another family facing the stillbirth of their full-term son. This time, I knew how to show up.

I touched his tiny hands. I let myself cry. I reminded his mother that he had only known warmth, her heartbeat, and love. I held her and let her weep. Eleanor had been my teacher.

Choosing Presence in Grief

Why do we let grief scare us into silence? Why do we allow fear of “doing the wrong thing” to stop us from doing anything at all?

These months have changed me. I now know that to support someone in pain, you don’t need to be a rock—you need to go soft. You need to feel their pain and meet them where they are.

A Letter to My Little Teacher

I could never have found my courage without first meeting and saying goodbye to Eleanor.

So, to Eleanor—my little teacher:

Your time was brief, but we will never forget you. Your hands, your lips, your family’s love—all etched in my memory. You taught me that beauty can be found even in darkness, and that grief is simply love with no place to go. May we all find the courage to offer love while we still have the chance.