My experience with grief after miscarriage {ectopic pregnancy} and a traumatic birth
There is something about preparing about birth that dredges up your deepest feelings, insecurities, and fears. Being a few years removed from the loss of our first child and our first (and rather traumatic) birth, I thought I had dealt with the feelings and fears that had haunted me. But they've come back with a vengeance the closer I get to my due date.
During my second trimester, I began to think about my upcoming birth and anytime I did, I would feel this sense of dread come over me. But because of outside circumstances (mold infestation, but that's a story for another day!), I didn't have the ability to think about it much more than that.
As I moved closer to my third trimester and started making plans for birth, anxiety began to take over me. I couldn't think about birth without crying. Anytime someone would ask questions about my birth plan or even how the baby was doing, I could feel my whole body tense up, my breathing would become shallow, and I would start to panic. It took everything for me to able to force a smile and give an adequate answer.
Internally I kept asking myself "I love being pregnant...but birth? I don't think I can do that again."
The First Loss
After my ectopic pregnancy I had been a mess. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't move easily after surgery, and I was distraught and overwhelmed with grief that I just couldn't process.
The internal bleeding and surgery had done quite a bit of damage. But the treatment I received at the hospital had left me more broken than anything.
Doctors and nurses refused to refer to my baby as a baby."The pregnancy" they called them. No one acknowledged that I was losing my child, a real human being.
As I woke from surgery, I sobbed and choked out, " I lost my baby" to the female chaplain and she quickly responded with, "Oh, it's okay. You can have another one."
I know that these people had decent intentions. But their words have been forever carved onto my mother's heart. To this day I still have moments when I break down because I know the world will never acknowledge my child as a human being with a soul, whose value is priceless.
Without my baby, my life had lost all meaning. And everyday I asked God why I hadn't died with my baby.
He answered not long after that, when my husband and I were blessed with a second child.
My broken heart wasn't repaired, but it was slowly healing with every flutter, bump, and kick I felt in my womb.
The Second Loss
I was so excited to give birth to our second baby/firstborn child. I worked toward and was blessed with a very healthy pregnancy.
But soon after arriving at the hospital, all the plans I had were changed. The hospital protocol quickly put me on a path that led to a drawn out labor with many interventions, which left me sick and my baby struggling.
After every intervention except a C-section, our baby was yanked into the world. Our sweet baby was only with us for a moment before being whisked away to the NICU, where I couldn't go because I needed reparative surgery.
Seeing our baby several hours later after birth broke my heart yet again. Covered in tubes and monitors, it was nearly impossible to touch the person who had been part of me for the better part of a year. We spent several days in the NICU, due to protocol, and we fought to go home every day.
Finally bringing our baby home will remain one of the most impactful days of my life. But I had such horrible regret that I carried with me. And the loss of that bonding time with my baby deeply effected how I recovered from the physical and emotional trauma of my first birth experience.
Processing Grief and Embracing the Cross
So far motherhood has taught me that have I very little control of my journey. But my first response to both losses was one of desiring control over myself and how I allowed myself to grieve.
I now recognize that I really didn't allow myself to grieve, much less give my suffering back to God so that He in His infinite Wisdom and Mercy could heal me. I shoved my suffering so far down into my soul that I almost forgot it was there.
I firmly believe that our third little blessing arrived to heal my heart from those wounds that have festered from being untreated and tucked away. This new life has given me the desire and intention of giving all of those sufferings, great and small, back to God as I embrace the cross of His Beloved Son.
"I don't think I can do this again." has been echoing in my mind for months now. But I'm choosing to pick up the Cross with Christ during His Passion. Thankfully He lessens the burden as we suffer together.
This birth experience will be one of healing through and with the Holy Cross.
What crosses of motherhood are you embracing, Momma? Please comment them below so I can offer them up as well.
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