I regularly see student midwives, and newly qualified midwives expressing concern about how they can provide support in a stillbirth situation. It is natural to feel worried about something we have never done before – particularly when we know that that situation is likely to be very emotional. There are many helpful books, blogs and study days that can inform this aspect of your practice.
But the skills are also already within you. You have so many transferrable skills that you can fall back on. Here are 5 skills you already have, which made a huge difference to me when Finley died.
1. Giving Gentle Guidance
There are many situations in which, as a midwife, you are used to giving gentle, non judgemental instruction. On a daily basis you talk people through labour, you give a new Mum guidance on breastfeeding, you show a Dad how to change a nappy.
Finley was born by emergency c section (he couldn’t be resuscitated). While I was having a wash & getting changed (not easy after a c section), some surprisingly normal moments were occurring. My hubby didn’t arrive at the hospital with a guidebook. He had no idea what to do. Those beautifully tender early moments with the midwife were his guide, our guide. Our midwife showed him how to wrap, hold and wash our son. Standing by, gentle instructions, passing things as necessary helped him fall into place, bathing his baby.
2. Communication Skills
Every day of your training and career you are meeting different people, from different backgrounds, with different educational levels, social circumstances, cultural and language differences. You are honing fantastic communication skills. These skills enable you to quickly build a rapport with new families and adapt your communication to suit them.
Our midwife worked so well with our little family in hospital. She spoke about Finley as if he were alive, and showed him as much care and respect as she would any little person. And so we did the same. The video below gives you a little bit of an insight into the communication skills our midwife used. It shows a daddy getting to know his baby, admiring eyelashes, cheeks and discovering that his son has ears that are different sizes – something that we have long teased Baz about.
The midwife didn’t know that ears are a long standing joke in our family, but her ability to build a rapport meant she was able to use that opportunity and her skills to make it beautiful. She was happy to make a joke “one he listens with, one he doesn’t” – you’d think it’s the wrong time for humour – but it’s the way Baz lightens any intense situation. He generally walks the line of almost acceptable humour! She happily came over to gently dispel the underlying concern that he might have got squashed and been in pain – simply by placing her hands on his ears and saying “oh yes, he has a little fold in one side, it’s ok”. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Those moments stayed with all of us. Baz so chuffed to have spotted that Finley shared his ears. ⠀
⠀3. Empowering Choice
When I was pregnant with Finley, I spent a lot of time thinking about the experience I would like during our labour and birth. I wanted to be in a birth centre, I used hypnobirthing during pregnancy and hoped for a water birth. At no point in my birth planning did I think about what might happen and what I would want in those circumstances. Why would I? Everything I read, every group I was in, encouraged the view that if you believe in your body, and trust it then it would all be fine.
So when it came to waking up from an emergency c section, in hospital, with a dead baby, I felt all my choices had been taken away from me. I didn’t realise that I was still a Mum, that I could still make choices for my son and our family. In fact the first choice I remember in those early days, was when the doctor came to ask me about what type of post mortem we would find acceptable and which organs it was ok for them to investigate.
Therefore it was so empowering (and equally heartbreaking) to be asked by the bereavement midwife (who had got to know us over the 3 days) what I would like my last memory to be. This wasn’t a question blurted out, in the bright light of day in front of people, with an offical looking form in front of her. It was gently asked, when everyone else had gone home, and I was cradling my son in bed trying to work out how on earth I would be able to leave the next day. She held me as I broke down, and listened with understanding when I said I just wanted to be his Mum and I hadn’t even changed his nappy. I don’t remember the whole conversation, but I do know that between us, in quiet dark hours long after her shift had ended, we somehow between us hatched a plan for the next day. A plan that would allow me to bath my son (3 days after his death), to change his nappy, to dress and undress him and to read him a story. In otherwords, she recognised my need to be a Mum, empowered me to express my wishes and made them happen.
She gave me back choice and control.
4. Resource Fairy
As students, when you were (are) learning your trade, you became a master of research. You could drum up 20 references for an article due the next day without any problem, you had links to all sorts of information from birth videos, to positions and equipment. This is a really valuable skill. Before you find yourself in the position of caring for a family at the time of their loss (afterwards, or in next pregnancy) it is invaluable to familiarise yourself with the information, resources that exist and the choices that families can be offered. You can start with what exists in your own hospital – go and visit the mortuary so that you know where babies go, how they get there, who looks after them, what goes with them, how they tell one baby from another.
-go and chat to the chaplain and find out about services available in hospital and afterwards.

-check in that store cupboard and see whether there are blankets, memory boxes, keepsakes, outfits.
-find out what local charities work with your hospital, (photography, casting, support groups, doulas, counselling).
(while you’re at it, appoint yourself stock control person, list what is in that cupboard and where to refil it, and make sure it is regularly refilled).
You can spend time reading books, blogs, and watching films like Still Loved, The Deafening Silence, Return to Zero.
Keep that knowledge stored away until it is needed. You can then magic up beautiful ideas for families in your care, knowing you have the necessary items to fulfill them.
5. General Nurturing
Maybe it is a bit strange to consider this a skill, but believe me it is. You see, when a baby dies, the midwifery role changes perhaps. There may seem to be less tasks to complete – after all you no longer have to carry out all the checks on baby. But that nurturing is still vitally necessary. Time passes strangely in a bereavement suite after loss. There are less signs of the time of day being marked by changing light, by tea trolleys and ward rounds, by meal times, and feeding/expressing times. No longer does our body tell us it’s hungry, or thirsty, it forgets how to function. Simply popping in every so often with a cup of tea, a piece of toast, an offer of help to carry things to the shower, or offering to find clean clothes can help to establish a routine and a familiar structure when everything else has changed.
One of the most valuable things you can bring to the room is compassion, time and a good old british cup of tea.
What a wonderful resource. It’s snowing area that was taboo when I was a student in 2004. I was never allowed to shadow my mentor should this situation sadly occur. I found myself in that place nit long after I qualified and had to resort to my natural instincts which was exactly as above. I wondered at the time if that was appropriate but I had nothing else to fall back on except my experience of being a mother. As they left they thanked me for acknowledging their stillborn daughter was a person and I had left memories for them to carry. It was a privilege to have cared for them as a family .