Today, I happened to come across this article about coping with miscarriage. It includes a miscarriage “to do” list and one of the points was to “find the ‘rightness’ in every emotion. She says, “For example, I started bawling because of my thought ‘I’d lost my baby’…The fact is I gained a baby, a pregnancy and a gift of loving this little one while it was with me.” I have written before about not liking the “lost my baby” term and I liked this perspective of having gained a baby, instead🙂 In tip number 13, the author also says this: “‘Let go. Let go of the need to control.’ This is the start of my meditation cd. It’s what I heard that first helped me to relax and open up enough to have the miscarriage naturally, it’s also what I realized I have to do so that I may celebrate the life and spirit of our little one without being dragged down by pain.” I, too, found the notion of “letting go” tremendously important in having a natural home miscarriage and wrote about that in my first post on this blog.
I am pondering this letting go notion more recently, because we are planning to have a little ceremony next month on the 6 month anniversary of when Noah left us (which is close to his due date/my birthday). A comment was made about “releasing” him as part of the ceremony. I balked at that, because it makes it sound like I am clinging or “holding” him back. This is not how I feel—I feel like he left in November. I do not *feel* him in a sense of a little spirit hanging around/held back by me. I do not dream about him or really have a feeling that his spirit is still here—he is gone and I know that. What I do feel is a need to remember/acknowledge/continue to learn—and I do not want to let go of any of that. And, I do feel a sort of “energetic” connection of sorts via my baby-in-my-heart necklace and via his plaque on our tree. I feel like there is a space in my heart for him that will always be there and in a sense he is still, “there,” with me, but not in a way that needs to be released or let go of. I let go of the baby in November, but I am not letting go of the lessons or the memories or the heart-space and that is okay.
I DO want to let go of the stored up trauma about the blood loss I experienced, the placenta aftermath, and my very real fear that I was going to die. I have never felt that close to death before and I have not yet ever been able to process that feeling in words. If I think too much about it, my uterus hurts and I feel like “closing up.”
The same website has an article about “natural miscarriage,” similar to the idea I have for a book I want to write (I hope to post more about this soon). In that article she says:
Embrace the sacred privacy!
As I was looking back on the loss of our baby, it was apparent that one of the things I was most grateful for was the privacy I had to experience this birth just as I felt I needed. There was nobody around telling me what to do, there was only my husband supporting me with what I needed.
I can’t tell you how invaluable that was to me, as I was camped on the toilet, pooping, bleeding and chanting all at the same time. It was just as important in walking away from the experience empowered in trusting the natural divine as anything else I’ve experienced. We can find our honor and the sacred even in events that we’d rather not be participating in (like the loss of our babies).
I definitely felt this sense of the sacred. In the book Wild Feminine,, the author talks about the time post-miscarriage as being a “sacred time” and I agree. I felt a sense of openness and transformation similar to after my other births, but actually more deeply and profoundly even than with those. The privacy of being alone to do what needed to be done was also of great importance—just like with homebirth compared to hospital birth. The connection to what was actually taking place in my body, vs. being at the mercy (so to speak) of other people’s ideas, interventions, emotions, and perceptions.