Chrissy Teigen continues to illustrate the delicate balance between strength and vulnerability, even in the most difficult days of her life.
Chrissy posted a link to a letter to her fans on Medium on Tuesday afternoon. The usually boisterous and bubbly 34-year-old shared an essay that has her usual brand of honest, raw emotion. She not only addresses what's happened but the reaction to it as well. You can feel Chrissy's signature sass simmering beneath her heartbreak as she opens up about the past few weeks of her life.
It was at the beginning of this month that she shared terrible news. She and husband John Legend had lost their third child. She delivered the baby, whom they'd been calling Jack, at 20 weeks after being under observation for bleeding for weeks prior.
An outpouring of love and support has surrounded the couple. Sadly, there are people who have criticized Chrissy for expressing her pain publicly. Chrissy also addressed those in her deeply emotional letter to fans.
On Tuesday afternoon, Chrissy Teigen shared a letter to fans. It's the first time Chrissy has spoken out since earlier this month when she and husband John Legend shared the news of their heartbreaking loss. Chrissy had delivered their third child, a baby boy they called Jack, at 20 weeks, and he did not survive.
Chrissy explained to fans that she knew the time would come when she would write about this experience. Though it was happening under different circumstances than she initially imagined, she wanted to begin by expressing gratitude.
"I didn't really know how I would start this, no matter the room or state I was in, but it feels right to begin with a thank you. For weeks, our floors have been covered in flowers of kindness," she shared.
"Notes have flooded in and have each been read with our own teary eyes. Social media messages from strangers have consumed my days, most starting with, 'you probably won't read this, but…'. I can assure you, I did."
"But I will tell you, some of the best letters started with, 'You don't have to respond to this, but…,'" she continued.
"After we first lost Jack, I found myself incredibly worried that I wasn't able to thank everyone for their extreme kindness. Many shared incredible personal experiences, some shared books, and poems. I wanted to thank everyone, share our story with each individual person. But I knew I was in no state to. For me, the 'no need to respond' note was such a true relief. I thank you for each and every one of those."
Chrissy began talking about what she experienced by recalling the time she was being transported to deliver Jack. She and John were caught off guard by the hurt they felt at hearing others in the hospital celebrating.
"Here we were, just wheeled down to a new floor, me covered in a thin blanket to hide, knowing I was about to fully deliver what was supposed to be the 5th member of our beautiful family, a son, only to say goodbye moments later," she wrote.
"People cheered and laughed right outside our door, understandably for a new life born and celebrated. You kind of wonder how anyone is thinking about anyone but you."
"At this point I had already come to terms with what would happen: I would have an epidural and be induced to deliver our 20 week old, a boy that would have never survived in my belly (please excuse these simple terms)," Chrissy continued.
"I was previously on bed rest for over a month, just trying to get the little dude to 28 weeks, a 'safer' zone for the fetus. My doctors diagnosed me with partial placenta abruption.
"I had always had placenta problems. I had to deliver Miles a month early because his stomach wasn't getting enough food from my placenta. But this was my first abruption. We monitored it very closely, hoping for things to heal and stop."
"In bed, I bled and bled, lightly but all day, changing my own diapers every couple of hours when the blood got uncomfortable to lay in. I actually became an adult diaper expert for my own personal entertainment, truly appreciating the brands that went out of their way to not make me feel like an actual [expletive] baby," she said candidly.
"Some were blush-colored, with drawn delicate flowers. I got to the point where I was actually like, '[expletive] yeah, throw me the pink ones!' — something I never thought I'd be excited for. But there we were."
Some people made the choice to criticize Chrissy's decisions during this pregnancy. At different points, she addresses those criticisms. For example, some suggested she should have been hospitalized earlier and that could have perhaps changed the outcome.
"I could have spent these days at the hospital, but not much of a difference would have been made. I was still seen by doctors at home, silently twisting their negative words into positives, thinking that everything might still turn out okay," she said.
"Finally, I had a pretty bad night in bed, after a not-so-great ultrasound, where I was bleeding a bit more than even my abnormal amount. My bleeding was getting heavier and heavier. The fluid around Jack had become very low — he was barely able to float around. At some points, I swore it was so low I could lay on my back and feel his arms and legs from outside my belly."
"After a couple nights at the hospital, my doctor told me exactly what I knew was coming — it was time to say goodbye. He just wouldn't survive this, and if it went on any longer, I might not either," she wrote.
"We had tried bags and bags of blood transfusions, every single one going right through me like we hadn't done anything at all. Late one night, I was told it would be time to let go in the morning.
"I cried a little at first, then went into full-blown convulsions of snot and tears, my breath not able to catch up with my own incredibly deep sadness. Even as I write this now, I can feel the pain all over again. Oxygen was placed over my nose and mouth, and that was the first picture you saw. Utter and complete sadness."
Chrissy then opened up about her personal decision to take photos, another choice that was criticized by some.
"I had asked my mom and John to take pictures, no matter how uncomfortable it was. I explained to a very hesitant John that I needed them, and that I did NOT want to have to ever ask. That he just had to do it," she shared.
"He hated it. I could tell. It didn't make sense to him at the time. But I knew I needed to know of this moment forever, the same way I needed to remember us kissing at the end of the aisle, the same way I needed to remember our tears of joy after Luna and Miles. And I absolutely knew I needed to share this story."
"I cannot express how little I care that you hate the photos. How little I care that it's something you wouldn't have done," she leveled.
"I lived it, I chose to do it, and more than anything, these photos aren't for anyone but the people who have lived this or are curious enough to wonder what something like this is like. These photos are only for the people who need them. The thoughts of others do not matter to me."
Doctors allowed Chrissy to wait until she was ready. She knew when it was time, but it didn't make matters any easier.
"I'm not sure I'll ever forget the experience. I had always laughed about how much I loved epidurals…not so much this one. I laid there for hours, waiting to be told it was time to push. I obviously never had to dilate much, he was still a tiny little guy. I had been laying on my side, switching sides every hour or so, whenever the nurse told me to," she recalled.
"I remember laying on my right side, looking opposite of John, when I was told to make my switch. I opened my legs and started to turn to face John and just like that, he was on his way out. The doctors yelled for a bit and…I don't know what to say, even now. He was out. My mom, John, and I each held him and said our own private goodbyes, mom sobbing through Thai prayer. I asked the nurses to show me his hands and feet and I kissed them over and over and over again. I have no idea when I stopped. It could have been 10 minutes or an hour."
"People say an experience like this creates a hole in your heart. A hole was certainly made, but it was filled with the love of something I loved so much. It doesn't feel empty, this space. It feels full," Chrissy reflected.
“Maybe *too* bursting full, actually. I find myself randomly crying, thinking about how happy I am to have two insanely wonderful little toddlers who fill this house with love. I smother them with love while they ‘Moooooooom!!!!!’ me. I don’t care.”
Chrissy goes on to say that she's still struggling with being happy. She's still experiencing moments where it all hits her all over again. She also admitted she felt guilty about how the news impacted other people.
"I feel bad our grief was so public because I made the joy so public. I was excited to share our news with the world. Stories leading up to this had been chronicled for all. It's hard to look at them now. I was so positive it would be okay. I feel bad that I made you all feel bad. I always will."
Still, she’s been able to allow in the kindness all have sent her way.
“I went to a store where the checkout lady quietly added flowers to my cart. Sometimes people will approach me with a note. The worst part is knowing there are so many women that won’t get these quiet moments of joy from strangers. I beg you to please share your stories and to please be kind to those pouring their hearts out. Be kind in general, as some won’t pour them out at all,” she wrote.
“These strangers always tell me that life will move on, just differently. They tell me to not let anyone tell me this was ‘God’s plan’, or that we will ‘have another soon’. Thanks to you, I will block this out forever.”
Chrissy concluded by saying that she does want to let happiness in, and she can feel it in the joy for her friends whose families are growing:
"I worry that people feel uncomfortable sharing their joy with me. I'm currently surrounded by the pregnant bellies of many close friends, and I can swear to you, nothing makes me more happy. I know your joy and I love you.
"I wrote this because I knew for me I needed to say something before I could move on from this and return back to life, so I truly thank you for allowing me to do so. Jack will always be loved, explained to our kids as existing in the wind and trees and the butterflies they see. Thank you so much to every single person who has had us in their thoughts or gone as far as to send us your love and stories. We are so incredibly lucky."
