As part of The Australian Filipina's offering for ‘Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness' in the month of October, we are thankful to Cheryl May Corpus for sharing her ordeal in losing "Squishy". Cheryl agreed to share to provide morale support to women (and their families) who have undergone the trauma, and to let them know they are not alone, that things will be better.
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"October is ‘Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month’, and despite September being a FABULOUS month (it’s my birthday month), it is now the month that I also associate with this type of loss and grief. I’ve been debating on whether to write about my story and experience, but I believe that we should speak up more about this topic and support those who have and will go through it.
This photo was taken last year when I was 10 weeks pregnant with a being that we called ‘Squishy’. After years of trying, moving on to the emotional, physical, and financial rollercoaster ride of infertility treatment both here at home and in LA, it was now a time of celebration and excitement, especially after the immense grief and loss that my family had gone through in 2019 when we lost my father. We took these photos as I was about to take part as the pregnant model in a photoshoot for a new Filipino active wear brand and we were also going to share this image once we could announce at the milestone 12-week mark.
That of course did not happen. The following week, and three days before my 40th birthday, I felt ‘off’ and then I started bleeding. Rushing to emergency and waiting for what felt like twelve lifetimes over, they performed an ultrasound and tests and found no heartbeat. I was told to come back in the morning and get a thorough check as the ER equipment was not as advanced as the maternity ones and Squishy could still be with us despite what the ER machines were reading. Fingers were still crossed at this stage.
I spent most of the rest of that night crying and speaking to two of my best friends until the early hours of the following morning, and I believe I slept an hour at most before we went back to the hospital. Back at the hospital, student doctors were invited to attend my ultrasound but due to COVID-19 restrictions I had to attend it alone and without my husband. I had a room full of strangers watching me as my final thread of hope was taken away, and Squishy had indeed passed and there was nothing I could do about it. It felt so clinical, lonely, and horrible. It was horrible.
More waiting (and sobbing), and I was then given the choices of how to ‘get rid of the pregnancy matter’. I chose the medication option and was told to just take some aspirin afterwards to deal with the pain. At home, the pain was gnarly to say the least. Imagine all your worst period pain ever, then combine all that pain together and maybe add in some more pain for good measure. Thankfully we had some heavier pain mediation on hand, but that still did not mask the fact that I was having contractions. After hours of crying and pain, Squishy was gone. You get a follow up call from the hospital to check if ‘all went well’, and that’s it. No physical or mental health check-up, just off you go to deal with it all on your own.
We sometimes don’t know what is going on with someone and that could be dealing with a similar situation to mine, and sometimes, much, much worse. My husband and I let some people know what happened, and I know that their intention was to help but sometimes it went the other way. I was told “at least you weren’t that far along”, or “at least you know that everything works”. There were also others that weren’t aware of our situation or fertility issues that asked,“when were we having babies?”, or “why didn’t I want to give my dying father a grandchild?”. Sometimes when there isn’t anything nice to say, I would suggest to not say anything at all. Just ask if they’re okay and how they’re doing, and if they want to let you know they will. If they don’t want to let you know, then that’s cool too.
I’m writing about my loss first and foremost to remember and honour our little Squishy but to also share my story, although it is unfortunately not unique to me as so many women have a similar story to mine, and a whopping 1 in 4 women will have to deal with pregnancy loss or stillbirth. You might have a mother, sister, grandmother, friend, relative, neighbour, boss, colleague, barista, (anyone!!) who has had to go through this, and sometimes in silence as we really don’t speak openly or enough about this type of loss, and we’re just meant to soldier on like it never happened.
I want to send so much love to all the women out there who are part of this horrible club that nobody wants to be a part of.I wish that there was better mental health, follow up care, and leave measures in place for women that go through this, but my personal experience made me feel like I just had a tooth extracted.
Squishy, we miss you terribly, but I know you’re hanging out with my dad and that’s okay as he’s so much cooler than I’ll ever be anyway."
ABOUT CHERYL MAY CORPUS
Cheryl is of pure Filipino heritage with her mother, Crisanta hailing from Manila and her father Bel (deceased) from Nueva Vizcaya. Cheryl has a young brother, CJ who is a high school teacher.
She has completed courses in Graphic Design at Shillington College, and later Fashion Design at East Sydney TAFE. She worked in apparel design and then moved on to handbags and accessories design at Australia’s oldest and largest handbag houses, Oroton, where she was the Women’s Accessories Designer for over 8 years.
Cheryl and husband Brendan Stewart moved to Los Angeles in 2015 and they moved back home to Sydney in 2019. The good news is that after her traumatic experience, Cheryl and Brendan are expecting a baby girl in early December.
The Australian Filipina congratulates Cheryl and Brendan on their coming little princess and wishes them lots of joy with her for many years to come.
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Cheryl's interview by Radio Tagumpay, Triple H 100.1FM will be aired this Monday. Radio Tagumpay is on at 4pm-4pm and can be streamed globally. Click here.