For our final guest post for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, Molly, who has experienced so much hardship and loss, shares some incredible insight and retrospective advice. She really captures the “here and now” feelings and adds the big-picture perspective that is so hard to grasp at the time. So many people have bravely shared their stories with us and we have been honored to have them on our blog. Although Molly’s guest post finishes this series and October is coming to a close, we hope that reading these people’s experiences and insights has better equipped you to navigate the waters of loss and grief. October is only 1 month, but we all share this struggle together and can rely on one another for this and the other 11 months. Thank you Molly for sharing your story.
We’re Not Broken, Just Bent
Submitted by Molly Tanner
“The most beautiful people are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” – Elisabeth Kubler-Ross
There are moments in one’s life in which you can remember the finest details like it happened just this morning, even if years have passed. You can recall exactly what you gazed at out of your car window when you received “the news.” Or what you were wearing as you fiddled with the hem of your dress as the doctor sighed heavily and told you something you never thought you’d hear. Or the ultrasound technician’s strained voice when she muttered, “The doctor needs to take a look.”
If you’re reading this, chances are good that you or someone you love has experienced pregnancy or infant loss. You may be able to relate to these defining moments. You may have lived them yourself, and if you have, I extend sympathy to you from the depths of my heart. I, too, have experienced loss. I’ve been pregnant six times since 2008. Our losses ranged from two pregnancies gone before a heartbeat was detected, to 20 weeks pregnant when we were told how terribly sick our son, Colin, was.
In the midst of the losses and the uncertainty, the grief was so intense that parenting a child here on earth seemed like an impossible delusion, like the universe was chuckling cruelly as it watched my tears flow. I prayed for a crystal ball, desperate to know what the future held. I didn’t want to be sad, confused, or empty, but I didn’t know how to make it just go away. I went to counseling, I did yoga, I ran, I ate well, I meditated, I went to acupuncture, reiki – I did all the “right” things to be well, but the hollowness was still there. I can remember wondering almost every day if everything would be okay. There’s no way to learn how to navigate grief…You learn through experience. And through my experience, this is what I can offer to others who may be where I once was:
1. Get professional help from a counselor. Grief can be very complicated, and partnering with a mental health professional will make navigating the pain a little bit easier.
2. This will pass (more on that in a minute), but before it does, hold on tight. Grief is a tricky minx. You’ll be cruising along and you’ll realize that you haven’t lost “it” at Target/grocery store/at your work/in your car/perusing Facebook in X amount of days. And you will pat yourself on the back! You deserve it! Then… it will happen. A trigger. Those damn triggers! “But I was doing so well,” you’ll say. And you were. That’s how grief works. My counselor encouraged me to envision grief as an ocean of waves… It can range from calm and quiet, to huge waves and troughs, to tons of choppy white caps. Eventually, the water will be smooth. For those of us experiencing pregnancy and infant loss, this is typically the first real tragedy we’ve experienced in life, so processing and dealing with it may take longer than you think it should. Please be kind to yourself.
3. This too shall pass. This is a season in your life. One way or another, the grief will subside and you will be okay. Everything will be okay in the end – if you’re not okay, it’s not the end. Your wounds will turn into scars, and they will always be a part of you. You will get through this, my friend.
4. In the meantime, figure out what YOU need. You are the only person who can determine that. When the wave takes you over, you might need to indulge in 2 large pizzas, or a bottle of wine, or you might go the other direction and decide to kick your own ass physically (I ran a lot when I was grieving, including a trail half marathon in the mountains. Terrible idea). You may need to crawl into a cocoon, and THAT’S OKAY! Just be sure to listen if someone whose opinion you value expresses true concern. After our first loss, I jumped onto an island and nobody else was invited. I shut out my husband, friends, family, co-workers. It was UGLY. Eventually, my husband and I agreed to make the choice – every single day – to commit to each other. I realize this is not always the case with grieving couples, so I consider ourselves very blessed. After each subsequent loss, we learned to grieve together, in addition to grieving alone in our own ways. When we lost Colin (our fourth angel baby) in 2012, we joked that our families and close friends definitely thought we were going to go off the deep end. But, a funny thing happened. After our appointment on the day that we learned how sick Colin was, we sat at lunch and held hands crying across the table. We resolved to cling to each other as we tried to get through this together…which leads me to:
5. Find your person/people, in addition to your counselor. I found I could call different people when I needed different things.
- Consummate cheerleader – My mom always said, “You’ll have kids one day, I just know it!” There were days that I yelled at her, “YOU DON’T KNOW THAT! STOP SAYING THAT!” But there were plenty of days that I sat quietly because I needed to hear that someone had hope.
- Distractors – These are the people who love me and really didn’t know what to say. They would help take my mind off of my intense emotions by talking about anything BUT my grief.
- Empathizers – When I was crying so hard that snot bubbled out of my nose, there were only a couple of people I wanted to talk to who would listen to me wail.
Our story has a very beautiful outcome. We adopted our newborn daughter in August, 2013. My sixth pregnancy brought us our son who was born in May, 2015. They are amazing and incredible little human beings and being their mom is the most rewarding experience of my life. I am grateful every day for the chance to watch them grow and become who they are meant to be.
Our family building journey was a long one. When our precious daughter was placed in my arms for the first time when she was two days old, I began to better understand and truly believe in God’s will for our wait: Waiting can be hard, especially if you’re actively grieving and you just want to feel better. It can be discouraging. Looking back now, I wish I had the patience to –
Waiting reminds you that you are not in charge of everything all the time, which can be very freeing for people who feel they carry the world on their shoulders. I encourage you to trust that things are how they are supposed to be. I hope that brings you peace and comfort when you need it most.
