#cw stillbirth

[valdevia]

Stillborn Venus

[jesncin]

"Birthdays" a fancomic about grief and loneliness. A reimagining of John's relationship with Golden Boy.

Happy birthdays, Constantine 🧁

[quartergremlin]

One part 5: ...

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transcript:

Yuichi: Hey kappa. I got the shoe box... You did a good job. I can take them, okay?

Leo: Wait don't-

Y: We don't have to do anything with them yet. That's okay.

L: Sorry you can take them. I know they're bad. There's no reason to keep them around. They just look- W-what if one was good? J-just one would be enough.

L: I... I can't look at them anymore. I can't keep. having false hope. I'm done Yu.

[mer-acle]

The first birth of Athena

Before Athena emerged from Zeus, she was born to her mother, inside of an environment made for anything but life

CW: Stillbirth (temporary)

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Metis swallowed hard, cradling her newborn daughter to her chest, wings protectively wrapping around them both.

It should have been the happiest moment of her life. But all she felt was cold dread.

The infant was small, way smaller than she should be, and pale as ivory. She lay perfectly still in her mother's arms, and she wasn't breathing.

"Athena," Metis whispered. Her lips gently brushed against her daughter's clammy skin. "Mama's here, Athena, please, just breathe. Please-" Her voice cracked.

The weight of Zeus' essence, always working against them ever since he had consumed them, pressed down more oppressively than it had ever done, like the new life was an insult to his divinity.

"Athena," Metis repeated, gently rocking the baby in her arms. "Breathe, my dearest, breathe for me."

She carefully pressed her hand to her daughter's chest, hoping to spark a reaction, make her cough, or anything...

She hadn't endured all this to watch her daughter fade to nothing.

Athena's wings rested limply against Metis' hand, a few downy feathers brushing against her skin.

Metis felt panicked tears slip down her face as she ran her thumb over her daughter's chest is circular motions, humming the broken tune of a lullaby.

Nothing.

Metis lifted her head to look into the unforgiving void, swirling with Zeus' energy that didn't want them there.

"You have to stop this," she whispered. "Zeus, please, let me keep her, I beg you."

She had no idea if he could hear her. At any rate, the void around her stayed still, uncaring that her baby wasn't moving.

Metis swallowed hard, cradling Athena closer to her chest, patting her back below her wings.

Her mind was racing almost too fast to keep up.

Zeus' energy almost knocked her to the floor, and Athena's small body seemed to go even colder.

Tears slipped down Metis' cheeks uninhibitedly.

"I won't lose you," she whispered. "I will not lose you, Athena."

She gently opened the baby's mouth, then briefly closed her eyes to materialize her own divine energy. If Zeus was working against his daughter, she would work for her.

A sliver of silver energy traveled out of Metis' mouth as she exhaled, into Athena's small body.

A low rumble like from thunder ran through the void. Metis flinched, wings shielding Athena more closely. The baby still didn't move.

"Come on," Metis whispered. "Come on, you're a fighter, my little one." She breathed out more energy. I need to see her... Oh fates, please, I need to see my baby open her eyes...

She felt her own essence flickering, complaining about being broken up and shared this way. She didn't care. If she had to shatter herself completely to make Athena live, she would.

Another breath, another sliver of silver into her baby's mouth. Zeus' essence pressed against her wings, an oppressive weight.

Metis took a shaky breath, pressing a kiss to Athena's forehead.

"You're so strong," she whispered brokenly. "You're so brave, my little girl."

A shudder ran through the small body in her arms. Metis exhaled in a soft sob.

Athena squirmed, her little face scrunching up. A weak sound escaped her mouth, more of a whimper than a cry, but her chest rose and fell shakily.

Metis laughed tearfully, cradling her daughter close.

"There you are," she whispered. "There you are, my little warrior. It's alright, Mama's right here."

Athena whimpered again, more strongly this time. Her tiny wings stiffened and shook behind her.

Metis kissed her again, caressing her daughter's small face.

"Athena," she murmured, wanting the girl to hear her name. The baby cooed softly, almost a chirping noise, then her eyes flickered open.

Metis caught her breath, meeting her baby's gaze for the first time.

Dark, almost black, with yellow flecks. Zeus' eyes. Almost. Metis frowned, looking more closely. A faint rim of silver around the iris, the same color as the energy that had brought her to life in this inhospitable environment.

Athena cooed again, yawning.

"You're perfect," Metis whispered tenderly, fingers gently brushing over Athena's skin. "You're beautiful, and you're mine, my little girl. I'll do anything for you, little Nea, I swear to you, anything."

Athena moved a little, tiny hand closing around the fabric of Metis' chiton. Her small body shuddered, then she started crying.

"There," Metis whispered, rocking the little goddess in her arms. "Shhh, it's okay. I know it's not nice here. Shhh." She wrapped the baby into her himation, holding her close.

She knew it wasn't over, not close. Zeus' essence was only barely kept at bay. But she was holding her baby and comforting her, and for that moment, she was the happiest she has ever been.

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[doomteensy]

hey, heres some fucked up lore for my au:

i gave pure vanilla a stillborn son.

[sofiadragon]

Chapters: 18/18 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Offscreen miscarriage and stillbirth discussed

Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape, Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)

Characters: Severus Snape, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts Staff, Prince Family (Harry Potter), Harry Potter

Additional Tags: Severitus | Severus Snape is Harry Potter's Parent, Time Shenanigans, Dark Magic, Worldbuilding, Wizarding World (Harry Potter), Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter), Post-Voldemort's Halloween 1981 Attack on the Potter Family (Harry Potter), Pre-Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Horcrux Hunting, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Custody Arrangements, Blood Adoption (Harry Potter), Demisexual Severus Snape, Protective Severus Snape, Severus Snape Adopts Harry Potter, Severus Snape remembers he Has a Heart, NaNoWriMo 2023, Discussion of failed pregnancies and miscarriages, Potioneer Severus Snape, there's more to Magical Britain than Hogwarts and Diagon Alley, Stillbirth (mentioned), no beta we die like lily evans, paganism (Harry Potter), Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, No Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Hogwarts Staff Betting Pool, Oblivious Severus Snape, set in the 1980's, Fertility Trauma, Ace Panic, Asexual Character, Harry Potter Changes His Name, Found Family, Family Drama

Summary: 

Severus Snape doesn't think Albus' plan to martyr Potter will work out and knows nothing of the secret setup to give Harry a chance to live through the killing curse a second time. He decides that what they really needed was to start hunting the Horcruxes years ago instead of waiting for children to do it for them. He sends back his private notes and everything needed to brew a potion to strip off the spells that are restricting his behavior. He expects that his younger self will receive the information in 1992 at best. On the Summer Solstice, 1985, a listless Severus Snape is surprised by a generous and lucrative gift from his future self.

Featuring: Reluctant schemer turned proud parent. A secret adoption. Narcissa Malfoy and most of the Hogwarts staff trying to get Snape married. Lord Prince decides that a half-blood grandson is better than no grandson, provided he's invented something impressive enough to make up for it. Snape moonlighting as an undercover pedo-catcher to keep his spy skills sharp. The Hogwarts Staff Room betting pool.

[incense-and-nonsense]

"Waiting on God," By Rowan Williams, former Archbishop of Canterbury, preached to members and friends of the Movement for the Ordination of Women, 1992; image: The Annunciation, H. O. Tanner, 1898.

"When she first sensed the urgency of God's Word inside her, the longing of God to be there, in this body, "in my acts and words," the first feeling was a mixture of fear and exhilaration. God had begun to exist in her belly, not through the work of any man, but out of a kind of meeting of her longing and God's. How can anyone carry God, bring God to birth in the world? How can you carry the cup without spilling it? But what if the cup is no fragile container but a deep well that can never run dry? Then you know it isn't just your resource, your decision, but God's insistent generosity, carrying you as you carry God.

Her body changed, her face changed. She was no longer on the edge of things, a mere extra in the spiritual drama. As she went around, her body spoke to other women: others with unlikely pregnancies, early and late, recognized her, and what was in them lepr up in greeting. Conspiracies of Hope.

Her body changed. Men and some women stared and began to ask about legitimacy; some friends slipped away. Her partner, even, for a while was wretched and embarrassed. She began to think: why does God ask this when it makes me so exposed to their doubt and cynicism? Things were no longer simple. Was God's longing bound up with her humiliations? Was God another male working out his fancy through her flesh?

Her body changed and rebelled. She was sick with her new lodger, her new intruder, the alien growth of God within her. At times her body itself seemed a humiliation, a nauseating burden; as if all the old words about earthly uncleanliness were right after all, as if a woman's body really were a compound of disgusting things. Sometimes she would wash her clothes obsessively, over and over, to get the smell of nausea off them. What did it mean that women could evoke such shame and fear and disgust in men? For a while some of that shame made sense, and her body with its heavy burdens seemed an awful stranger, and she could cry, "Why did you make me thus?"

The first real movements inside were like waking from a bad dream. Feet and hands pushing, a whole life suddenly there like a lover's footstep on the stairs, bringing you back from terrors and suspicions to what you know and trust. It is life after all: not just something about me but something with authority, something more than me, that will make a difference to more than me. "But," she thought, "that means I don't know what will happen when this does come into the world: here is something that is most profoundly me, my flesh and blood, the sheer stuff of me, depending on me and vulnerable to me; and yet it is not me and will be strange and impenetrable to me." And sometimes, then, she felt afraid again, and sometimes the old anger came back: "Why give me a task so full of contradictions, a path of knives to tread?" Too much hope for comfort; too much restlessness for comfort; and at the same time too much solid reality, too much vigor and promise, for the anger and the fear to fill the whole sky.

Some births are terrible. There are miscarriages and still births. Sometimes whe wondered if this would end in death, nor birth; and sometimes, looking around, she thought that was what the staring faces wanted. Not a birth, a beginning, but a great bloody wound, with life running out like blood. And she wondered how to live with that, with the whole thing ending in loss and diminution, all te risks for nothing. All she could think of was that there was something that couldn't be lost: knowing that once her flesh had been what God wanted so as to make God's Word present, and that perhaps the fear of terrible loss could also be God speaking. She didn't let herself think a great deal about that, because she didn't know--and no one else could tell her--how to live through a wound like that so as to make even the loss speak of God. And if it could speak of God, it would not be a God familiar to those who speak most easily of God.

What manner of child might this be? She thought a lot about the stranger she would bring into the world, hers and not hers. She thought about how the new life she had mothered would put hers in question: she wouldn't stop changing when she had given birth, the relation would always be with a presence both utterly strange and utterly intimate. When the waiting was over, the world wouldn't just end--easy to think that, perhaps, when the time came, problems would be solved and tears wiped away and the kingdom would begin. Well, she knew in some part of herself that that couldn't be so: the world would go on and tears would still be shed. Still, something would be different. A connection would have been made, between God and the bodies of women, God and the desires of women, that would change for ever what was said about God and the bodies and desires of men--wouldn't it? Though it would not be all at once. The whole process of bringing the Word to birth, with all its strangeness, the tearing and distancing, was all moving toward some moment when, with the pain of truthfulness and respect, God and men and women might be able to look at and speak with each other without the fear of violence and disgust she had felt so harshly. That, she thought, that is why the Word is given, that is the desire of God: that is the difference.

As the time got closer, nothing became easier. It was as if there was some kind of test ahead and no way of guessing if the body was strong enough to bear it. What had been inner and in a way secret was going to become public. People would see what she had brought to birth; she would be judged in a new way, she would have a new place, a new name because of what was coming to be. Her body changed; her identity would change. Even if the worst terrors were not realized, she would change. She would be vindicated, or she would mourn as never before. But she had been touched, she had been inhabited by grace, by a summons, a gift, of being wholly trusted. She could look back into the eyes of her staring neighbors and say, "The Almighty has done great things for me; the Almighty has done great things in me. He has not abhorred this flesh as you do."

When the Word was brought forth it would be to her what it would be to all--judgment, promise, food and drink, absolution, communion. But the long waiting, the containing, the holding inside herself the dangerous difference that God's Word would make, the building up the living presence of the Word by her history, her patience, her anger, and her trust, by the fluids of her soul and her body--about that there was something distinctive. Not a privilaged access, not even an exclusive intimacy, but a unique coloring of the love that would be open to all. For the Word is never for human beings in general, but is always colored by a secret connection special to each. And this would be hers, that she had waited with the Word, her patience and her impatience bound up in and with the Word's; as if God in her, bringing the divine purpose to reality, was learning the patience of flesh and the risks and hurts that make up the world.

Whose story is this? It is the story of the woman we celebrate today, the story of the women we celebrate here tonight. We shall celebrate better though, if for all of us there is a spark of recognition here. Some at least of this is the story of every Christian, called and gifted, hopeful and frightened by the Word they must learn to give into the world. We shall learn more about celebrating Mary and her sisters if we can see that they are living out in the immediacy of their flwah and blood what we all face something of: God's desire.

We must all discover how to say to it the "yes" that aknowledges how it is bound up with our own desire. And we must press insistenrlt on whatever it is in us and in our church that bushes back divine and human longing, praying that the Word will go on being flesh and speech and bread in the lives of women."

[davycoquette]

ruck & alice

!!! TRIGGER WARNING !!! SEE TAGS

The bank robber stuck his shovel in the damp earth and swept the back of his hand across his forehead. For a while he stood looking out over the dead land, the yellow grass and black fence posts. At the edge of the still, orange cypress forest slanted the skeleton of a barn. A lonesome raven beat its wings on its perch of broken gable, then sang out dryly. It was otherwise heavy, wet, and silent, until his wife’s gentle sobbing started up again.

Potentially upsetting content under the cut.

He turned toward her, watched for a beat, then laid his hand on her little shoulder and pulled her close. Her hands clasped over her misshapen belly, but she staggered to the fresh grave and turned her face into his chest and soaked the front of his shirt with her tears and said, finally, “I feel so empty.”

This was not the first child Alice Wren had lost, but he had grown and lived in her belly for nine full months, only to go cold and grey in her arms. It was the shock of it, Ruck thought. She had all that time to anticipate a squirming, warm bundle. All that time to grow attached to the idea. It was different for women; she’d known him by the kicks of his feet and the weight of his body and the little moth wing flutter of his heart.

He wrapped her into his arms and held her for a long while. Heavy clouds rolled low across the sky. A solitary breeze rolled ash and cypress needles across the yellow grass. The raven beat its wings again then flew off. Alice Wren said, “This is your fault.”

@fortunatetragedy Tag! But with the caveat this one has a common trigger and I fully understand if you opt not to read it!

[bambi-sparkles]

Vent post:

cw deadnaming, stillbirth mention

My mom is vehemently angry that I have adopted the name Alexis Michelle.

My mom chose that name for me when she was pregnant. She chose two names, Christian James and Alexis Michelle.

Now that I've adopted the name I would have had if I was born a girl, she is. Pissed.

She says that the name Alexis Michelle belongs to a child that was never born, but fails to realize that child was ME.

She compares it to a miscarried child, going so far as to even ask if I should take the name for my stillborn sibling while I'm at it.

To her it's as if she were pregnant with 2 children, Alexis and Christian, and Christian was born while Alexis was miscarried.

But I AM ALEXIS. I AM THAT CHILD. You just gave me the wrong name.

She says that I'm erasing so much of who we are together, that I'm erasing such a large part of who she is and her identity.

She says I'm so hyper focused on my feelings and identity that I don't care about her and hers.

I love my mom. And while we've always had some issues in the past, we always resolve them and come together.

But I just want her to see it from my side and understand. And I know she wants me to understand her side too. But that name was meant for me. I need her to understand that it was always meant to be mine.

[bluebellhairpin]

"That's the sound of a girl harmonising with her -" NO. NO. NO. THAT'S THE SOUND OF RHAENYRA TARGARYAN SINGING TO HER STILLBORN DAUGHTER VISENYA.

[jesncin]

John Constantine, the Chimera Twin storyline. A fancomic about grief, and our reimagining of the Golden Boy arc from Hellblazer.

[sniigura-archive]

Ooo, I'm interested in learning more about the last pregnancy if you're comfortable with going into detail! Was Reader able to have the baby, or did she have to abort the pregnancy to save her life? And if she had the kid, did said kid have any issues (like disabilities) as a result of the complications? So much juicy angst potential lol.

cw/tw: medical talk, complications during delivery, surgery, infant death/still birth

the last pregnancy was supposed to be twins, but everything that could go wrong basically went wrong. image breech delivery, umbilical cord wrapped around the neck etc.

reader had to gone in for emergency c-section and that already got adam stressed, since the others were all natural deliveries and he can’t be there in the room with her obviously.

sadly one twin didn’t make it, it was a still birth. the other one made it but still needed to be under supervision for the first week.

the reader also had both abnormal placentation and post partum hemorrhage, which is why she had to also get a hysterectomy done. it was all very a close call, and during the surgery she flat lined a few times.

during all that adam yelled at a lot of nurses and doctors. he very much advocated that reader gets saved over the children

the child has developmental dysplasia of the hip but since it was catched early it was easily treatable. the girl also suffered from hypoxic ischemic encephalopathy, which caused her to have no developmental delays but she does suffer from epilepsy. it’s all under control with medication!

i do image since adam and reader have so many children that a few have adhd, autism and that one is deaf. the whole family is able to sign

[brostradamus]

WRITING SOMETHING ON AO3 FOR YOU RN, HERE'S THE PROMPT:

Efren van Renoir, sitting in his wheelchair, was rolling over to the house of his patient — Aquafina "Iced Milk" Purely, who was known by "Aqua" by nearly everyone. Aquafina fell ill due to some complications giving birth to her stillborn daughter, whcih was caused by placental abruption, making the placenta seperate from the womb. Efren felt bad for the girl, stating, "Poor girl, nobody should ever have to go through that. Not even I would wish that on my worst enemies," he told the sick woman. Efren looked at Aqua's eye, seeing a longing for a child. Efren asked, "What happened here?" as he looked at Aqua's aching stomach, covered by a white silky blanket.

"Nothing," Aqua sternly told Efren, despite the apparent frailty. "Nothing at all, Elder Efren," she said as she tried to sound strong for him, but was apparently failing and losing the battle with her "i am a very strong person" facade. Aquafina was always the type that made her look like a very powerful figure, even during times like these as she was born into a family were most of the women were muscular. Efren looked at Aqua with a sympathetic look, saying, "It's okay, dear. You don't need to act brave and strong with me," in order to comfort her. Due to this, Aqua started to relax a bit. Efren could remember a situation when he himself was born.

The sky was bright, the moon was shining. His parents, Elena "Schichttorte" van Renoir and Winstar "Baumkuchenspitzen" van Renoir, were getting ready for his arrival. They were ready to see their healthy little boy — or so did they thought.

When he left Elena's tummy, there was…something strange about him. He was small, VERY small. And very weak, for that matter. His parents had no idea what went wrong during the pregnancy, heck even the DOCTORS didn't know. But, as much as they were mad, they couldn't hate Efren for something BEYOND his control. That would be stupid. Even so, they were going through a near-death of a child, and they couldn't get upset at their own creation for almost dying.

But, they were still concerned about their dear son. What could have cause this to happen? How did Efren come out like this? Forget about that. As long as Efren is here, that's all that matters, right? Of course it did!

Efren, now snapped out of his birth, asked Aqua a question: "Was there any causes of the stillbirth, my dear?" Aqua didn't want to answer, but she didn't want to disrespect the Elder, so she responded with, "My placenta…seperated��ugh…" as she was suffering to deal with this sickness, even if it wasn't a deadly one. Aquafina never really told people her weaknesses, not even her own family. But, this felt like an exception…Why? She actually told Elder Efren what happened to her dear child. A child that was never going to experience life. For an instant, Aquafina felt like she was taken back to that terrible incident.

-Mariah [🤓🌈]

THIS IS SO GOOD! I saw the full fic on ao3 b4 i saw this though 😭 . Go check out the full fic on ao3!!! I luv it so much

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62039248

[the-sleepydragon]

(i;m sorry, the hell is the "womb situation"? I saw it from Nari's blog and their mods told me to go here, but i am still confused)

Mod Genie: 👏RECAP/EXPLANATION 👏TIME

Imora is was pregnant with twins.

Someone took those unborn children out of her womb and turned them into eggs. They're very much still alive, but Imora's body wasn't built to lay eggs, and it's not registering in her brain that her babies are okay.

So in her mind she's been forced to have a miscarriage/stillborn birth, and she's freaking out because of it.

Long story short, she's convinced her children are dead. And this is happening because of trauma associated with child loss that she's had before.

[pageofheartdj]

Angsty idea that because of Lilith's infertility when Lilith was trying to carry, her body would eventually reject it. When Lucifer was trying to carry, they would be born already gone. They stopped trying for a long time due to heartbreak.

Roo's deal allowed them to not lose their child anymore.

[taocc-petstore]

Memory of a Baby

People crowded around a hospital bed. The room popped with emotion, bursting out like beautiful beams of joy. There, on the bed, a woman gently cradled the tiniest little child.

Can you ask the doctors to get some people out? I don't mean to be rude, but I'm exhausted, █...

Of course.

Some people filtered out of the room, respectful of the young woman's wishes, while a doctor stood on the sidelines, asking to see the child for another checkup.

Your baby isn't looking too well, Mrs. █. We need to see them again.

R..Right. Go ahead. You're the doc, eheh...

It was a long wait, and as the woman held another person's hand, a bit of worry whirling around in her head, the doctor came back in holding not a healthy baby boy, but a clipboard.

I'm sorry, ma'am.

She knew this was going to happen. The pregnancy didn't go well. Nor the birth. She knew, she knew, she knew. Still, her hand squeezes the person's, tensing as she listens to the news and listens to this person ramble on about apologies and explanations.

All in all, she couldn't bear to hear the news of her child, who'd gone to heaven all too soon.