MUSINGS
My Pregnancy Loss
Feeling alone
Pregnancy loss was lonely. Of coarse at the time, my mum visited and cooked for me, my partner was soothing, with cuddles and my favourite treats. I’m lucky to have so many loved ones nearby. Still, I felt very alone.
What it was like
I remember sitting quite mutely for big chunks of time, checking out, denying myself the space to be with the feelings. When I did allow the space, the feelings were too much. Socialising, I tried sharing. Some could meet my sadness with warmth, often though, I was met with uncomfortable faces. I was torn between feeling dismissed and knowing they were doing their best.
Truth
If I’m honest, while I knew I was experiencing sadness, for the most part I felt vacant and apathetic. When I softened towards the curiosity of my vacantness, I met guilt. Guilt for the part of me that didn’t want the baby in the first place. Blame, that my lack of “want” was in part responsible, which handed itself directly to feeling ashamed of these truths. I felt anger towards the poor stenographer who’s bedside manner, I believed, was rubbish and I was outraged by his approach. It did feel easier to go back to the vacantness.
You Get What You Get
After two more pregnancy losses I became disheartened and discouraged. I felt frustrated that I had been either pregnant, recovering from pregnancy, or on medication to support me falling pregnant, for more time than I had hoped. I knew my body had done it before, I had Valentina a few years earlier. I started to think that maybe “you get what you get, and you don’t get upset” (classic mum comment). With these thoughts circling my head, I became anxious that my decisions weren’t the right ones and I was losing faith.
Chronic Illness
In some warped way, I was met with a level of relief, after being diagnosed with a chronic autoimmune disease. To have some possible answers for why all the loss, even though I could never know for sure, it felt better to redirect the blame. I started to get very particular with my health habits, in fact, I’d say, quite obsessive. This went on for a while.
Meeting myself
I knew I needed to free myself of the obsession and, while at the time I didn’t know it, to free myself of my unexpressed grief. I took a deep dive into my wellbeing, welcoming space and granting permission to meet and feel into what was there to be witnessed. I was able to free some of my stuck-ness and meet a deeper relationship with myself.
Amidst the meeting
I fell pregnant and gave birth successfully to my Florence. As it goes, it is all exactly as it should be, so that we could arrive exactly where we are. All the grief and pain and struggle was the way through to the gift of her on the other side.
Healing through story
Writing this has been difficult to meet. My inner critic is an obstacle to my compassion and self empathy, speaking loudly of lack and unworthiness, What I know for sure, is that through our stories, in part, we are healed. In the right time, not needing to be perfect, or profound, just as it is.
If sharing my story helps you to bare witness to yours, then it is my honour.