Helping the Griever – wks 7-14 months

The flowers have stopped, the phone calls have dwindled, life moves on…or so people think. For those who have lost a baby it is now the time when the next step is considered – trying again. The postnatal check has been done and the all clear given. For many their menstrual cycle has started again and so it looks like all the hurdles have been removed and a clear path has now emerged from the grey cloud of loss. Oh how I wish this were true. For many they unknowingly now enter a path strewn with emotional landmines. I just assumed that God wouldn’t hand me two lemons in a row so I expected to get pregnant again immediately after waiting the suggested six months to allow my body and mind to heal enough from the grief. A friend tried to convince me that in reality a person needed over a year to come to grips with the emotional upheaval such a massive loss would have caused. My mind was going to have a far greater impact on my ability to conceive than what I wanted, and to avoid the distress of infertility over this time it would be better to wait the year. My midwife tried to tell me the same; most people need a year to recover. I didn’t want to listen; I most certainly was not going to wait, even though I knew that this friend was not only talking from a theory standpoint but also from that of personal experience. I voraciously read everything on the subject of becoming pregnant and spent many hours talking about the subject with anyone remotely interested. I was convinced I had everything sussed. I was mistaken. Unfortunately a year is a horrendously long time to endure the torment of facing a double loss – loss of your baby and then loss of motherhood entirely. This stage of the grief journey I actually found the hardest – harder than facing the death of my baby. Each month I found I wasn’t pregnant I was distraught. All the emotions most people thought I would feel over the initial loss paled into insignificance compared with what I felt when I wasn’t pregnant – anger at the injustice of it all, sadness at my current and potential loss, isolation because I wasn’t part of my peer group with children, envy of those with their own family – I didn’t want to hear about people doing family things or talking about their family – it was too painful.
I felt different and isolated from many of my friends and family who were either pregnant or had children. Birthing was just a natural, normal event in a person’s life cycle, but I was left behind – a failure. Even women who didn’t want to get pregnant bemoaned to me of their plight. I was surrounded by unmarried mothers who simply found themselves pregnant and it was unfair. What was God doing? What was I doing so wrong He couldn’t give me a child because of it? Hearing about unwanted pregnancies caused such intense rage at God I feared it would cause internal combustion if not released through hard out ranting, raving explosions at Him, finally calming into a peaceful trust that He had it all under control.
After attending a function where the room was full of unplanned children I lamented to a friend about the injustice of it all. They answered regarding God’s part in pregnancy, “He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.” Matt 5:45. Not every baby is seen as a miracle of God but some are. Elisabeth, Hannah and Sarah were all barren until God opened their wombs. Most importantly, my friend reminded me of the wonderful fact that God loves to give good gifts to those who love Him (Matt 7:11). Later I found this pertinent passage in Psalm 37:4-9:
Psalm 37:4-9 (New Living Translation)
4 Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you your heart’s desires.
5 Commit everything you do to the Lord. Trust him, and he will help you.
​
6 He will make your innocence radiate like the dawn, and the justice of your cause will shine like the noonday sun.
 7 (a)Be still in the presence of the Lord, and wait patiently for him to act.

 8 Stop being angry! Turn from your rage! Do not lose your temper— it only leads to harm.

Having been so strong and in control of my emotions now became a negative instead of a positive as many people assumed that I was fine with babies, small children and bulging baby bellies. I became a baby and pregnant women magnet as often groups of young mothers and pregnant women would all come over to talk to me at once. For most weeks of the month that was fine but for times when I had just discovered I wasn’t pregnant again it was unbearable. What was I supposed to do, shun society completely? Being a teacher didn’t help as not only did I deal with other people’s children for hours each day, but I would see their parents bringing them to school accompanied by their younger siblings. My only solution was to try to think of all the positive things in my life and not focus on the fact that I may never have my own child to look after. The key character attributes I tried to focus on becoming were being brave and courageous.
Bravery had always been linked in my mind with people doing heroic things like rescuing a wounded soldier amidst crossfire, not something someone could exhibit on a day to day basis in normal life. I came to grasp the concept of enduring pain being what bravery really is all about. Staying within society when you feel hemmed in on all sides by ‘everyone’ achieving what you cannot. Enjoying life when it was so easy to say your life is the pits.
Courage is like the forerunner preparing you for bravery. Courage is the ability to control your fear in the face of pain or danger – it is the belief things will turn out right. It was so easy for me to be obsessed with the fear I would never become pregnant –my life continuing childless for the next 10 years – or until menopause- always hoping and continuously being gutted with disappointment month after month.
I read the story of Joshua and Caleb in Numbers 13 who were sent as part of a group of 12 spies to the land the Israelites were going to try to defeat. They were the only ones who showed courage by stating that though the inhabitants of the land were giants the Israelites could defeat them. They controlled their fear by putting their trust in God – believing He would lead them to victory. I too had to put my life in the hand of God knowing that although I feared the future He had my life under control and I could trust in Him and be brave and courageous.
Still, with this head knowledge, I felt very vulnerable emotionally. I hated not being in absolute control of my emotions and the situation. Equally, I hated shying away from potentially difficult situations, but I found myself not wanting to push myself beyond what I thought I could cope with. I got to the place where I couldn’t predict when I would or wouldn’t be sensitive about not being pregnant. Crying was something I knew I needed but the after effect was undesirable. My eyes would swell up and remain in this state for several hours, even overnight, irrespective of how short-lived the crying spell has been. I tried to remedy this by having what I termed ‘dry tears’.
I would tell myself each time I discovered I wasn’t pregnant yet again it was normal and healthy to feel disappointed, upset, frustrated and angry. I acknowledged and validated these emotions, hoping by doing so it would be enough – the physical act of crying wasn’t needed. It didn’t work. The hormonal and chemical release achieved through crying was as necessary as mental comforting.
As each month dragged out to a year I became more and more panicked that motherhood would never happen for me. I got to the point where I didn’t want to go to the supermarket and see all the mothers pushing their children along, I didn’t want to be asked if I was going to have more children or not. I didn’t want to phone mothers in case they stated they were too busy to talk because of some child/family related reason I should have known about before ringing at that time. Unfortunately this also impacted some of my friendships.
At a really low point I rang a friend for some encouragement. She stated she was really busy and couldn’t talk but before hanging up she said, “oh but do you have some news?” I felt like I had been kicked while down. She was too busy to talk unless I was pregnant, then she suddenly had time. Stunned a close friend could be so brutal I emailed her and explained how hurtful this had been because of my increased sensitivity to not being pregnant. My poor friend was horrified and deeply upset. Her question was concerning a job I had applied for. When she had hung up she remembered I had already told her about getting the job and so berated herself for asking such a silly question. Pregnancy was the last thing on her mind as she had made the decision not to ask about it unless I brought it up. She felt really hurt by the fact that I had misunderstood her, when she tried so hard to be sensitive and understanding. It took months to heal the wound this misunderstanding caused.
As the one year anniversary of Blair’s death loomed large on the horizon the thought of all the one year birthdays that would be celebrated at the same time I was planning an unveiling of Blair’s gravestone became overwhelming. There had been several of my friends and family who were pregnant the same time as me so the number of birthdays were significantly higher than the average, in fact one of my friends birthed her baby in the hospital room next to mine! I was becoming more and more distressed just thinking about the contrast. God in His great wisdom and mercy was acutely aware of my pain and gave me an around the world trip to plan and go on to help keep my mind off it! Being the incredible gift giver that He is, He had planned a double surprise – 14 months after Blair’s death I was finally pregnant! God’s timing was and is perfect.