This was published 2 years ago
‘Our horrible little club’: How tragedy turned these strangers into firm friends
Sydneysiders Jade Stavropoulos, 30, and Leda Ross, 36, lost their babies within a few months of one another. Introduced by a mutual friend, they forged a strong friendship in their grief, then found themselves pregnant again.
Jade Stavropoulos, left, and Leda Ross: “There are so many triggers after you lose your baby, and Jade was always on hand to prepare me.” Credit: Nick Moir
Leda: I first heard about Jade when I was about eight and a half months pregnant. I was texting a friend when she told me her sister-in-law [Jade] had recently lost her twins at 22 weeks. It’s everyone’s worst nightmare; I never thought it would soon be mine.
A few weeks later, in January 2021, my husband, Chris, and I lost our son, Marlowe, at 39 weeks after I suffered a placental abruption. By the time we got to the hospital, I knew he was gone. I just stared at the ceiling as the sonographer said the words no mother-in-waiting ever wants to hear, “There’s no heartbeat.”
There’s no rulebook for how to handle losing your baby, walking away from Marlowe for the last time when we were supposed to be taking him home. You end up cocooning in a shock bubble; people call, text and reach out, but it’s hard to know what to say.
Five weeks after he died, a message arrived in my Instagram inbox from Jade that read, “I’m so sorry about your little boy. I wish we weren’t in this horrible club together.” Calling it a club made me smile for the first time in a while; it really is a horrible little club, but I’m glad to be in it with Jade.
We started talking every day, first via text, then on the phone. Eventually, Jade invited me to come along to a monthly support group run by Deb de Wilde, who is a real-life angel, at the Mater Hospital [in North Sydney]. That’s where we first met in person, though it felt like we’d known each other forever. We hugged for a while, a really long, sweaty hug. We’re both big sweaters.
Jade has no filter and neither do I, which made it so much easier because we could verbalise things we’d never say to anyone else. I call her a truck driver, because she swears like one, though she hates that nickname. One day she said to me, “This is so f…ed up, I just want to be in a coma,” and immediately I thought, “Yes, so do I.” We also share the same twisted sense of humour, which is helpful because laughing is one way to get through grief.
“There are so many triggers after you lose your baby, and because Jade was a few months ahead of me, she was always on hand to prepare me.”
There are so many triggers after you lose your baby, and because Jade was a few months ahead of me, she was always on hand to prepare me. One day, a friend of mine threw a birthday party for her three-year-old. I remember hiding inside, looking out the window at all these babies and pregnant women, and having a panic attack. I called Jade. “Pack your stuff up,” she said, “and just go for a walk, remove yourself.” It was exactly what I needed to hear.
Now that we’re both pregnant again, there is a new lightness to our friendship, but we’ll never forget what brought us together. I had a scare at 25 weeks when I didn’t feel any movement, so I went to the hospital at 6am. I was messaging Jade on the way. She reminded me that everything was going to be okay and our babies would be out in the world together soon. We both know we’re having boys and we keep promising each other they’ll be best friends, too; they don’t know how much shit we had to go through to get them here, it’s the least they can do!
Jade: After losing our twins, Alfie and Mimi, in October 2020, I spent the entire month sleeping on a mattress in the lounge room. My husband, Andrew, dragged it out there the night we got home from the hospital because I couldn’t sleep in our room where their cots were supposed to be. And that’s where I stayed.
About two-and-a-half months later, Andrew got a phone call from his sister, Amanda. He took it in the kitchen, which is never a good sign, and kept pacing back and forth saying, “Oh, my god, oh, my god.” He told me that Amanda’s friend Leda had lost her baby at full term. My own heart was broken; the last thing on my mind was helping anyone else. I didn’t feel strong enough. Then I started thinking about how I’d felt in those early days, the things I wanted to hear and needed to know. Suddenly, I was typing this long message to Leda. She replied straight away and we haven’t stopped talking since.
“She calls me a truck driver because she thinks I speak like a bogan and I call her a dolphin because she just dives straight in.”
I was struck by one of the first things she said to me: “As scary as it is, I can’t wait to get back on the horse. Are you going to try again?” No one else had asked me that yet, understandably, but I did want to try again, and having Leda put it on the table made me feel so much more comfortable.
That is Leda to a tee: fearless, outspoken and bossy – in a great way! She really is a leader. She calls me a truck driver because she thinks I speak like a bogan and I call her a dolphin because she just dives straight in. At her first group session, I was blown away by how composed she was, getting back out in the world, meeting her friends’ new babies.
I got in the car afterwards and said to my husband, “I feel like she’s doing better than me. I haven’t even left the house.” People deal with things differently, but Leda has taught me that sometimes it helps to put yourself in tough situations. She encouraged me to go to see my friend’s newborn for the first time. “Meet that baby, cry on its head,” she said.
Our friendship has endured so much in a short space of time, but I was nervous to tell her when I fell pregnant again last August. I said to her, “We don’t need to talk about this baby, I get it.” But then a week later, I woke up to a series of messages from Leda, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!” followed by a photo of her own positive pregnancy test.
I was nine weeks pregnant at the time and just couldn’t fathom that we’d get this part of the journey together, too. I replied, “Get ready for it, bitch! Buckle up!” No wonder she calls me a truck driver.
Jade delivered a healthy baby boy, Cosmo Nikos Stavropoulos, on April 6. Leda is due in June.
Still Aware and Bears of Hope provide support for families who experience the loss of a baby.
Support is available from the PANDA National Helpline on 1300 726 306 and Beyond Blue on 1300 22 4636.
To read more from Good Weekend magazine, visit our page at The Sydney Morning Herald, The Age and Brisbane Times.