Ghostbelly

by Elizabeth D. Heineman

In this courageous memoir, Elizabeth Heineman “illuminates the complex emotional landscape of stillbirth—putting into frank and poetic words the unspeakable experience of simultaneously grieving and mothering a baby who has died” (Deborah L. Davis). Ghostbelly is Elizabeth Heineman’s personal account of a home birth that goes tragically wrong—ending in a stillbirth—and the harrowing process of grief and questioning that follows. It’s also Heineman’s unexpected tale of the loss of a before burial, she brings the baby home for overnight stays. Does this sound unsettling? Of course. We’re not supposed to hold and caress dead bodies. But then again, babies aren’t supposed to die. Interwoven with her own accounts of mourning, Heineman examines the home-birth and maternal health-care industry, the isolation of midwives, and the scripting of her own grief. With no resolution to sadness, Heineman and her partner learn to live in a new a world in which they face each day with the understanding of the fragility of the present.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, Parenting, Relationships, Family, Grief

320 pages, Paperback

First published February 3, 2014

About the author

Dr. Elizabeth D. Heineman is a historian whose work focuses on gender, war, and memory in Germany; welfare states in comparative perspective (Fascist, Communist, and Democratic); and the significance of marital status for women. Currently, she is Professor of History and Gender, Women's and Sexuality Studies at the University of Iowa.

Reviews

[Cassandra · Rating 1 out of 5]

I did not enjoy this. It was hard to swallow as a reader who once did a homebirth and transferred because I knew something was wrong and acted on it. I went directly to the hospital and needed a cesarean after five hours in active labor with a hip that wouldn't open to let my baby rotate. Reading this story I saw so many red flags so many moments to call in help and her doula and transfer. Calling 911 earlier. More education. More research. Geriatric pregnancies are not to be taken lightly. I feel so awful for the little babe but my anger over shadowed it. I recommend it with my one star for knowledge. It wasn't the homebirth that killed the baby it was lack of knowledge and competent support in my opinion. Geriatric pregnancies need heavier monitoring and should not go post date.

[Gina Covarrubias · Rating 5 out of 5]

There was a time, not so long ago, when it was considered perfectly acceptable to keep your deceased loved ones in your home for a while, and also to pose for photos with them. Last week I read an article about a female Macaque who carried her dead newborn around for days before she was ready to let it go. The monkey, apparently, failed to get the memo that these practices became socially unacceptable in the early 20th Century. That’s because nature doesn’t conform to societal norms, and neither did bereaved mother Elizabeth Heineman.

In Ghostbelly Heineman does what feels natural to her in the aftermath of the birth of her stillborn son, even when it proves unpopular. What would have been my last child is currently buried under a potted ficus on my porch, and I have two black thumbs. My efforts to refrain from killing this fickle plant sometimes seem like a sick joke I’m playing on myself, but at the time I couldn’t think of what else to do except to go to Home Depot. I felt like if I didn’t do something—anything—I was going to completely fall apart, and talking about it seemed like something I was definitely not free to do. What is the right way to grieve for your lost baby when everything about losing a baby in the first place is so horribly wrong, and why can’t we talk about it?

Writing Ghostbelly was to Elizabeth Heineman what fertilizing my Lazarus of a plant is to me. It gives us something to do for someone for whom there is nothing else to be done. Heineman challenges us to carefully reexamine and reconsider our beliefs about what we are expected to do and how we are expected to feel when pregnancy does not result in a living baby. Why wouldn’t it be okay for her to care for the body of her child? To read to him? To sleep with him in a sidecar crib next to the bed? To feel any joy at all in the face of unimaginable sorrow?

Heineman’s time with her son was too short, and once it was over there was no getting it back. She had only one chance to do what she felt was right and to parent her son in the only way that was available to her. Seizing that opportunity required incredible bravery on her part. Almost as much as it must have taken for her to write Ghostbelly even though she must have known it would result in her broken heart’s public dissection. This is not an easy book to read, but it’s an important one.

[Melissa Harris · Rating 4 out of 5]

This author is from Iowa, a professor at the University of Iowa in Iowa City. She had a stillborn son, Thor, in November of 2008 and this is the story of her pregnancy, the birth, and her experience immediately and in the year following the birth and death of her son.

I have conflicting feelings about this book. I originally chose to read it to see if it was something I would recommend or give to someone I know who had a stillborn son also. After reading it, I haven't decided if I will do that or not. My intention was to bring comfort, I'm not sure that this read will do that.

I deeply respect the author's honesty and unyielding questioning of all the circumstances leading up to and during the stillbirth. I applaud her courage to mourn and grieve in her own way, regardless of the judgment of other people. (During the time period after the birth/death and before the burial, she brought the baby's embalmed body home from the funeral home for overnight visits. She dressed him, read to him, sang to him .. did all of the things one would do with a newborn .. she wanted to created memories with him.)

The writing was powerful, and much of it was like seeing a car accident where you can't turn away. It was raw, disturbing, and heart-wrenching....and I've never been pregnant, let alone had a desire for a child. So much of how she writes is totally relatable, just to human nature in general. I'm guessing that mothers who read this will connect even stronger than I did.

I can't say whether I would recommend this book or not, but I'd have to say that I'm glad I read it.

[Rebecca · Rating 5 out of 5]

Still not sure how to mentally process it all, but I read it in one sitting. As a doula, this is one of my biggest fears -- being able to help process this through all stages. Thank you so much for writing this -- memories of Thor I now will never forget.

[Heather · Rating 4 out of 5]

TRIGGER WARNING PREGNANCY LOSS:

Beautiful, profound, honest, open, and heartbreaking. This author opens up her heart and her soul to share her experience with stillbirth and with the rituals, experiences, support, and journey that were part of processing this loss.

The story is very honest, including her struggle to find where to place her anger, to figure out why baby Thor died, and to place blame. This was to me one of the most profound parts of the book. To read a chapter about her struggle to learn enough to make her own conclusions about where things went wrong; to reflect on errors in judgement and also errors in the entire system that politicizes midwives against the medical system in a way that is reflective, honest, and changes, rightly so, over the course of Elizabeth's journey to settle somewhat in a sense of what went wrong and why.

The story of taking Thor home for hours and days, to build memories, to have him included in their life, highlights the idea that one cannot begin to grieve what one did not even get to experience. You can't say goodbye if you haven't even said hello. To have the opportunity to spend that time with her newborn baby and create a space for him in their day to day life was quite profound. To have had such an insightful, laid back, and even humorous caretaker at the funeral home, who gave them that opportunity is quite wonderful.

[Erika Nerdypants · Rating 3 out of 5]

I couldn’t put this book down. Heineman’s memoir on the stillbirth of her son is told in excruciating, tender and brutal detail. I can’t imagine the loss of a child. I can’t imagine birthing and losing a child in the same day, and neither could the author. My heart goes out to this couple. In reading about this tragedy though, I couldn’t help noticing how many of the reproductive choices Heineman made were the product of her substantial privilege. I think the same is true for the choices she was able to make following the death of her child. I’m so glad she was able to bring her baby home and read to him, and cuddle him before burying him. Thor was a real baby, and being able to spend time with their baby was the most important thing for the parents. It’s really good that the medical community is starting to change protocol around pregnancy loss and stillbirth. Still, I couldn’t help thinking about how many women will not be able to experience those choices for lack of privilege. In some way I wanted Heineman to acknowledge that, because as a professor of women’s and gender studies she is surely aware of it, and because this book was published by Feminist Press,and so I guess I hold it to a higher standard.

[Hanna · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this book for a class about pregnancy loss and I think that it was really powerful to read through a mother’s memoir of loss. Especially because we don’t talk about death or loss very much—and a young child dying or a stillbirth is especially tough to know how to handle. Something that was unique in the author’s grieving was that she had her child’s body embalmed and then visited him at the funeral home and brought him back to her house in the time between his death and the burial. I didn’t realize that you were “allowed” to do that or that it would be a healing and significant thing to do in the aftermath of a loss. Another line particularly struck me. Her child has died and she is holding him in the hospital and she notes that she had a lifetime to grieve but only the present moment to soak him up. She needs to say hello before she can say goodbye. The author says that one reason she wanted to write this book was to prove that her child existed and that they had significance. Her other two children will eventually grow up and can write their own memoirs…but for her, in the absence of the work of parenting that she was expecting to do with her son, she wrote this labor of love.

[Tina Werner · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ghostbelly is a stark, unflinching account of stillbirth and the terrain that follows—a terrain not softened for the reader, not sentimentalized, not offered as a lesson in healing. Elizabeth Heineman writes with intellectual rigor and a confrontational honesty that is, at times, breathtaking. And at other times, difficult to stay with.

This is not a memoir that wraps itself in gentleness. Heineman’s voice is forceful, certain, and unapologetically her own. She seems less interested in guiding the reader through grief than in laying bare her experience on her own terms. For that alone, the book earns its place in the canon of pregnancy loss literature.

But as someone who values humbleness in tragedy, I often found the tone jarring. There’s a sharpness, a need to prove—not just the legitimacy of grief, but of self. In places where I longed for silence, she offered declarations. In moments where I hoped for softness, she gave critique. The result is bold and brave, yes—but not always companionable.

Still, Ghostbelly breaks ground. It challenges norms around death, mourning, and maternal identity. And in doing so, it opens space for other voices—softer ones, quieter ones—to rise and be heard.

[Kirsten Clark · Rating 4 out of 5]

Heartbreaking and real. I appreciated the authors honesty and related to much of her experience. Losing a baby to stillbirth seems indescribable, but she does an amazing job of putting it into words. Definitely a tough read, but very worthwhile.

[Squaresparky · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such a beautiful way to honour Thor's life. As a mother who lost her son 2 hours after birth I can relate to the feelings Elizabeth talks about. I liked the fact that even though she ended up adopting a child she only briefly mentions it because this book isn't their book it is Thor's book.

[Katieloowho · Rating 5 out of 5]

I cried and cried and learned and grew and i am grateful i read her story.

[Vanessa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Incredibly raw and powerful

[whendaffodilsbloom · Rating 4 out of 5]

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

[Mel · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 This book is good for persons that had a stillbirth and loss.

I found some of it to be hard to deal with bc I understood the grief but it came across hard. I'll leave it at that.

[Rachel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thor is her baby. And Thor is born! But Thor is dead. After a horrifying stillbirth, Elizabeth (Lisa) Heineman grapples with her grief, trying to navigate the complex world of the loss of a child and learning, quickly, that it is a landscape no one is truly prepared to traverse. She is forced at one moment to deal with the tangible administrative complexities of being the parent of a baby who has died, and then at the next moment to wade through her bereavement and process an overwhelming amount of often conflicting emotions. There are no right answers. But there are no wrong ones either. Her grief is hers and hers alone, and it is hers to choose how to remember her son who died before he ever was really alive.

Heineman's memoir is difficult to read at times, because her grief is so raw and her heart is laid so bare. But it is a story that needs to be told, to help us understand how deeply personal grief can be, and also to show us how much we try to shield ourselves from it. Ours is a culture that hides from this sort of story, that tries to shield ourselves from stories of bad things happening to other people. This is not a cautionary tale; it is a story of a reality that does not often occur, but sometimes does, and to very normal people. Heineman navigates her loss as best she can, with very few tools for doing so. Her story is her gift to her lost son, helping him to live even a little, bringing him to life for her readers even though he was never really alive for most of her family and friends. His is a beautiful legacy.

It's a little challenging to figure out how to recommend this book, and to whom. Other families struggling with the loss of a child might find solace in her Heineman's story, but certainly not right away. Hers is a very personal narrative, not intended to be instructive or supportive of others, but to help her find her own way through her blinding grief. Surely a general readership could stand to learn a lot from the story, but the book might not hold appeal for those without much personal intersection with grief (as the author honestly notes, even her own son is not interested in her story, as it holds little personal value for him -- which is fair). So that leaves an audience of professionals: midwives and doulas, perhaps, or clergy and social workers and grief counselors. But if a reader from a more general audience did find interest in reading this memoir, said reader would not be disappointed. This is a beautiful, tragic, and touching story, and there is so much to be gained from sitting with Heineman as she tells it.

Four stars instead of five for this book, because the writing itself was a bit disjointed, as if the author had pieced together fragmented bits of writing over several years instead of composing one cohesive narrative. This could lend the book a certain charm, if the fragmentary nature were applied more consistently. But perhaps this is due to a problem with the editing process, rather than the writing process.

[Chantel · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book was very difficult to read, matter of fact, I borrowed it from my library in May and got renewals until now in August. I wanted to read the book because I've lost four babies and was toying with a draft of my own memoir. I want to read and write as a way to deal with the losses and where life will take me now. Two years after our fourth loss, I felt strong enough again to continue my journey through the grief process.

I didn't experience my losses exactly the same way that Heineman did but I still empathised with her family's journey and experiences. Heineman unapologetically shares her journey through grief and in doing so tells us no matter what we have to do feel better, we must give ourselves permission to do it. Heineman hated the milk when it came in but I pumped and donated mine. We're all different yet much the same.

I think this book is a hard read whether you've experienced loss or not but it will assist with cathartic cries and tell you you aren't alone better than any pamphlet handed to you after your loss.

I recommend it to pregnant women even though it will scare them it might still help to prepare them for the unthinkable. Also to people whose baby has died and anyone in the prenatal and birthing business. I would further recommend it to therapists, grief counselors, clergy and funeral home operators. No one will find it easy but it is important.

[Literary Mama]

A professor of history and women's, gender, and sexuality studies at the University of Iowa, Heineman has published several books and many academic papers that bridge these fields. The researcher in her strives to explain what happened between “strong heartbeat” and “social worker.” She needs to understand Thor's death. But the mother in Heineman needs to understand—to experience—Thor's life: “Who was Thor? Or, what was Thor?” she writes. “No. Who is he? What is he?” These questions guide Heineman through the next few years and the remainder of her book.

Read Literary Mama's full review here: http://www.literarymama.com/reviews/a...

[Kelly · Rating 3 out of 5]

It feels almost wrong to review this book because it's such a personal memoir. Heineman makes herself so vulnerable, and I really appreciated that honesty.

That said, I just kept feeling so frustrated with her knee-jerk opposition to childbirth interventions. It felt to me like she was still trying to defend her choice, even though she bravely admits Thor would probably had survived had she opted for a hospital birth (because that would've necessitated induction earlier).

[jonny diane - Professional Wedding Officiant · Rating 5 out of 5]

Well written book. Looks at all sides of "her" specific experience with pregnancy, birth et loss. I would recommend for all birthworkers to read. I never felt she pointed fingers at anyone. Just wanted others to hear her story.

[Beks · Rating 3 out of 5]

Difficult read, as one would expect a book about stillbirth to be. There were parts I identified with and parts I disagreed with. Very well-written. I appreciated the different "angles" Ms. Heineman shared.

[Lisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

I reviewed this book here: http://turnthepagelisa.wordpress.com/...

[Paula Michaels · Rating 5 out of 5]

an unrelentingly brave memoir about a topic that is too often talked about only in whispers. Does not shy away from complexity and uncomfortable emotions. Absolutely worth reading.

[Kaity Molé · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a beautiful and harrowing memoir of Elizabeth's experience losing her baby. I cried with her throughout the book and felt so honored to hear Thor's story.

[Nina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Will review later-this book left me stunned-it is incredibly beautiful

[Kate · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such an honest and raw memoir about loss and grief.

[Michelle · Rating 5 out of 5]

An incredibly visceral and raw reading experience.

[Carly · Rating 5 out of 5]

I couldn't put this down. Sad but so very interesting.