This post is one that has been tumbling around in my head for quite some time. Having written so much about our journey to bring a child into this world, documenting how I have been changed by finally having a child feels like an important piece of my story, even if it isn't neat or tidy, and even if it doesn't show my best self. And, in the spirit of the portfolio project, I'm posting this despite my thoughts not feeling entirely complete or polished. In the next few weeks, I hope to post more on how I have worked through and continue to cope with some of the feelings lingering after the three years it took us to have our daughter.
my pregnant belly at 29 weeks
When I was pregnant with Thea, I wondered how I would feel once she was here safely. I never expected that having a living child would erase the sadness and grief I felt after our losses. However, I was hopeful that her presence in my life would shine a light into those dark places in my heart, and that this brightness would begin to cleanse my spirit of the jealousy, anger, and resentment that were still lurking in the shadows.
Almost immediately after Thea's birth, the jealousy I felt when seeing other little babies dissolved. But, still, I found myself feeling resentful and jealous when I encountered pregnant women. Really, the only pregnancies that didn't cause me heartache were those of fellow babyloss mamas. And there were times when even those were difficult for me to witness. I was confused about the way I felt. I was ashamed that after carrying my daughter for 36 weeks and delivering a live, healthy baby, I still felt so trapped by negativity.
{I also had a lot of shame around the cesarean birth of my daughter, despite this really being the only option to bring her safely into the world. Any other way would have put both my life and hers at great risk. However, exploring those feelings is another post altogether. But let's just say that I'm feeling much better about that now.}
In the first few months after Thea's birth, I spent a lot of time journaling, thinking, and internally processing. I needed to get to the core of what was causing these emotions. One of the pregnancies I was having a hard time coping with was that of a dear friend. I hated the way I felt. I kept thinking about being pregnant again. It felt like the only way I could resolve the feelings I was experiencing. And yet, I didn't want another baby, at least not then. It became clear quite quickly that these painful emotions were about the state of being pregnant, not about my desire to bring another person into the world and the responsibilities that come along with doing that.
I started paying attention to specifically what my triggers were. I wrote in my journal almost daily about these triggers, and I realized that there were certain things that cut deeper than others. I became aware that what brought on these feelings was other people having the kind of pregnancy and birth experience that I had wanted, but was not able to have.
You see, while pregnancy was very, very much about bringing a child into this world, I am learning that, for me, it was also about something else. During the three years that John and I were trying to become and stay pregnant, I had a lot of time to think about what it would be like - what I would be like - when I was finally growing that new life inside of me. I imagined myself in this zen state, trusting the process, focused and calm, getting in touch with my inner earth mama, journaling, meditating, doing prenatal yoga. Of course I would do prenatal yoga - I had dreamed about it for years. I would craft and nest and do all of those domestic things I had been dying to do. I would try my best for a natural birth. I was very much looking forward to laboring and pushing my child into this world.
Except that's not how any of it happened.
From the start of my pregnancy, I was incredibly ill, and this lasted for a good bit of my 36 weeks of pregnancy. I had to take medication nearly every single day to keep from or limit my vomiting. I had spotting, was diagnosed with placenta previa, and, as a result, had to limit my activity for most of my pregnancy. My body kinda freaked out on me as a result of a neuromuscular disorder that I was later diagnosed with. We went to see either my OB or perinatologist almost every week. At 32 weeks, I had a hemmorhage and was in the hospital for a week and then on strict bedrest at home for another 2 weeks until I had another bleed. Throughout my pregnancy, I was worried sick, and spent a good part of my time simply trying to distract myself so that the days would pass. This distraction involved a lot of Netflix, sudoku, magazines, and HGTV.
{And, without a doubt, I would do it all over again to bring my sweet girl into this world.}
So, after Thea's birth, as I wrote and wrote and wrote, it became clear to me that the kind of person I had dreamed about becoming while pregnant was more than simply how I wanted to exist while pregnant - it was the kind of person that I wanted to be all the time. And, most often, I felt like I couldn't be further away from who I wanted to be and how I wanted to experience life. In all honesty, I think I simply did what I needed to do to make it through my pregnancy without losing myself in a deep well of fear and worry. Reflecting on how I have changed as a result of having those five miscarriages, I am aware that those three years brought tremendous personal growth. However, in many parts of my life I was simply stuck, unsure how to move forward or not having the energy or clarity to do so. Looking back, I think I had so many hopes for pregnancy - not only that it would allow us to bring a child into this world - but also that it would help me fall into the rhythm of the life I had visualized.
The past few months have been an awakening for me. I realized that for much of my life, I have been waiting for something. I've been looking forward to that thing {insert any one of the following - entering college, graduating from college, getting a job, getting that job, earning an advanced degree, being disciplined enough to train for a marathon, closing difficult chapters, finding true love, exploring my creative side, getting pregnant, staying pregnant, birthing a baby} - that thing that will - at last - help everything else click into place.
But now, it has become very clear that there is no one thing that is going to cause this shift. If anything was going to cause this realignment, surely it would have been my pregnancy and the miraculous birth of our daughter. And yet, afterwards, even as I found myself filled with so much joy and love and wonder, there were parts of my life that I needed and wanted to grow into.
These days, I'm learning that the richness of life isn't about having arrived - it's about continuing to stretch and grow and to open my heart and mind wider. I am learning that I can choose how I walk through my life, no matter if I find myself in the brightest or darkest of places. Each day - each moment - is a part of the journey - a chance to learn, to reflect, to recenter, to restart - to create the life I want to live. I am learning that that if there are qualities within myself that I'd like to nurture or skills I'd like to acquire, that there is no time like the present.
{And, I must admit, that I feel a little silly that it has taken me 30+ years to arrive here. Bear with me, folks.}
So, I would like for 2009 to be the start of really, truly living my life with intention. I want to be awake. I want to be mindful. I want to approach each day with purpose - even if the day I find myself in is filled only with the small tasks of daily living. I want to be present for the people that I love. I want to be intentional about my relationship with myself, my family, my friends, and my community. I want to stop waiting. I want to start creating.
This is what my heart is telling me that it needs. This is going to
be hard work. But I believe it will be so, so worth it.
So tell me, in this new year, what does your heart need?
