Suzana Butterworth je u ožujku 2017. saznala da njezino dijete boluje od vrlo rijetke genetske bolesti, sindroma Edwards. Tada je bila u 36. tjednu trudnoće, a za nekoliko dana je rodila mrtvorođenče. Bolno iskustvo gubitka djeteta u trudnoći Suzanu je potaknulo da uz pomoć supruga Dallina pokrene projekt Empty Photo (Prazna fotografija). Cilj ovog projekta je senzibiliziranje javnosti s patnjom koju prolaze roditelji koji dožive gubitak djeteta, u trudnoći i nakon nje.

Na internetskoj su stranici do sada objavili brojne fotografije majki koje drže ogledalo na području abdomena. U tom ogledalu se odražava vanjski svijet, onaj svijet u kojem roditelji moraju nastaviti živjeti. Ogledalo također simbolizira prazninu koju roditelji osjećaju zbog izgubljenog života. Uz svaku fotografiju nalazi se priča prepuna tuge, zahvalnosti, nade, ali i nevjerojatne čežnje, a snimljena je na lokaciji koja je bitna za priču. Pojedini roditelji svoju su djecu izgubili prije mnogo godina, ali ih još uvijek pamte, jer su ih, bez obzira na to što ih nisu upoznali, uvijek smatrali članovima svojih obitelji.

“Nažalost, često se događa da netko nama blizak ostane bez djeteta, češće nego što možete zamisliti. Molim vas, pogledajte svaku od ovih fotografija i pokušajte zamisliti njihovu bol. Naučite kako voljeti one koji su ostali bez djeteta. Naučite što im reći. Od sada više nema isprike. Sada znate kako to izgleda”, piše na internetskoj stranici projekta.

Svjedočanstvo žene iz Hrvatske koja je u 12. tjednu trudnoće doživjela spontani pobačaj možete pročitati OVDJE, a u nastavku smo izdvojili nekoliko potresnih fotografija.

“Innocence lost. That’s how I felt after losing my first baby to miscarriage. My husband and I had waited a long time, 10 years, before we decided we wanted a baby. So after getting pregnant at age 31, we were both surprised and excited. I felt this instant bond with the tiny being growing inside of me. At my first OB appt. my doctor decided to do an ultrasound to check the dates. I was fairly sure I should have been 8 weeks, but the fetus was only measuring 6 weeks. It had a little tiny heartbeat though, and my doctor never gave me any indication that anything was wrong. 3 more weeks went by and I felt good. Then one day I started spotting pretty heavy. I went to see my OB again and another ultrasound showed the fetus has stopped growing at about 7 ½ weeks. (I was 2 months pregnant by then) I was devastated! I had never experienced anything like that before in my life. The overall sadness that enveloped me for days/weeks was heartbreaking. I would cry almost constantly. Feeling like I was not in control was not like me. But I couldn’t control any of it. Innocence lost.  It took us 2 long years before I got pregnant again and I was a bundle of nerves the entire pregnancy. I couldn’t just relax and enjoy it like most expectant moms could. We were fortunate enough to have a big, healthy baby boy, though. Our rainbow baby!  2 years later we experienced it again. A slowly developing fetus with a slow heartbeat. Miscarriage #2. 5 months later, deja vu. What could make it worse? Miscarriage #3 took place exactly 5 years to the day after miscarriage #1. Innocence lost. Another 2+ years of charting, new doctor, ovulation tests, pregnancy tests, diagnosis of PCOS. Then were just burned out. Done! But we feel so fortunate to have our rainbow baby. (now 10 years old!) Plus I have met so many amazing women who have been on a similar journey as me through online message boards through the years. They were lifesavers to me during those dark times. Only they were the ones who truly understood what I was going through, which is exactly the reason I’m sharing my story. I want other women experiencing pregnancy or infant loss to know they are not alone.”

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“I felt like something could have been done and wasn’t. I blamed the nurses and doctors I saw. I blamed God. I blamed myself. They kept saying everything looked fine. Even though I had seen my baby on ultrasounds a couple separate times moving around with a heartbeat, it didn’t end up being fine. They said to not worry about a little drop of blood now and then, but I knew something wasn’t right and didn’t know what questions to ask, what tests to request. I felt like I could have saved you. I was told on a Friday that you were gone, but I still tried to keep you. I would lay on my back with my feet up, thinking that gravity would keep you in place. On Sunday morning you left me. Your father had to go to work and I labored on my own. Feeling you go was extremely painful, my body was in agony and my heart was shattered. I didn’t know what to do with you. You were still so tiny you didn’t yet look like a baby. Knowing that there was no life in this flesh, I held it in my hand for a moment, then flushed it away. I felt that keeping your loss a secret would make it easier to accept. Fear of experiencing this again cast a dark shadow over my next pregnancy. However, it is because of you that I pushed for tests and found the answers we needed to help keep him here. You have a brother. He came just over a year after you left. My medical records show two pregnancies and one child. I hate that I must explain this every time I see a new doctor. When people out in public see me with your brother, they ask, “Is he your first?” I know it is an innocent question and yes, he is the first child I’ve raised, but my heart always skips a beat because I know there is one who came before him. You will always be on our minds and in our hearts. ” -Kaelee D. —�—�—�—�—�- have you pre ordered your Empty Photo Project Book Yet?! —�—� link in the bio!

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“My story is so hard to explain. The emptiness I feel is unexplainable. I knew that it was possible. I knew that what I went through was a possibility. But I never ever thought that it would actually happen. It all happened so slowly. Finding out that my beautiful son was affected by this horrible disease that is carried by me made my heart stop. It took the breath right out of my lungs. I instantly blamed myself. I fell straight to the floor and screamed. No tears even came out at that point. It was so unreal. I remember laying in the hospital bed while they induced me thinking, “Why is this happening to me? Why my baby boy?” It wasn’t very long before my water broke and I was holding my little boy. He was so beautiful…. So peaceful. He looked like he was sleeping. He had the cutest little nose the cutest little toes. I couldn’t believe that I created such a beautiful baby. When the nurse came up to me and told me that they needed to take him I lost it. I begged them not to but they said it was time. He was only in my belly for 17 weeks. I felt him kick. I felt him move. They kept me in the hospital for another day and I didn’t sleep at all. I just remember feeling so empty. I remember looking down at my stomach and not feeling anything. I remember pushing down on my belly hoping by some miracle this was a dream. I went from him moving around in my stomach to nothing at all. My whole life stood still. I will never see him grow up. I will never see him take his first steps. I will never see his smile. I saw my mom blame herself because she passed the gene down to me. I saw my grandmother blame herself because she passed it down to my mom. I watched my whole family cry. Emptiness is so much sadness and so much pain. Emptiness is feeling like you failed as a mom because you couldn’t protect your first child. It has been a long painful healing and I know that someday I won’t feel this empty anymore because I will hold him again someday. And I really do believe that. It gives me relief knowing that Emmy has her brother looking after her. I know he knows how much he’s loved. Emmy loves her brother so much. Landyn Gabriel, mommy’s little penguin, you are so loved.”

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“27 years after your short life, I still remember it like it was yesterday. I was just a 24-year-old kid, newly married and excited to welcome a new baby into our family. I named you Brittany Dianne. You came early, 23 weeks along, without much warning and fought as hard as one could fight to stay here on this Earth with us. I had those 23 weeks with you and a short 4 hours of life. Those moments spent with you, my sweet Brittany, were the ones that made me into the person and mother that I am today. I keep a box with your things to remind me that you made me a mother. Your tiny little hat, handprint and footprints and even your hair are kept safely in your baby book. Two pictures are all that I have of you and that hurts. You are hooked up to machines in those pictures. I can’t help but think that you were in so much pain. I wish that I had pictures of when your dad and I held you in our arms. You were a perfect size baby doll, 12 inches long, with perfectly formed features. For years, I have searched for the reasons why you are not here with us. Now I know that God had a better and bigger plan for you which someday will make perfect sense to me. I am not the same person as I used to be and that is a good thing. I know that life is precious and should never be taken for granted. With every sad story of pregnancy loss that I heard after you were born, I know that many other things could go wrong. I have felt guilty and depressed that I could not help you. Incompetent cervix is the reason you came early which to me meant incompetent mother. I still to this day do not understand some of the reasons people gave me for your death, and I don’t think I ever will. Hurtful comments such as you are young, you can have more babies, just think of all the money it would cost to keep her alive, etc….. None of those helped work through my grief. Journaling, praying and trying again helped. Two more baby girls followed you, and they are terrific. However, you are still my first born daughter, Brittany, and someday we will be reunited. I know that reunion will be the best day ever. It will make my heart whole again.” (Continue in comments…)

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