Finding Strength After Miscarriage by Aditi Loveridge
Aditi: My previous post was about surviving the holidays after pregnancy loss. I continue this theme in this month's post. I write about my pregnancy losses to give my emotions a platform and to let other women that they are not alone. Your voice matters. Your story matters. YOU matter.
A New Year. A Deeper Me.
I awoke on New Years Day to a deafening silence in the house. The guests we had had over the night before had all left, and with them so did any remnants of the year before. I looked down at my abdomen. The scar that was now beginning to heal was still there. I hadn't dreamt it; the baby that once lived there, was no longer. Tears streamed my cheeks.
My husband spent the better part of the morning nursing a hangover while I sat in silence nursing my shattered heart. To try and get my mind off of the baby we had lost, I decided to open up Facebook. My entire news feed was filled with slogans and promises of entering the "New Year with a New You". My head started to spin and I began to feel nauseas. I gripped my abdomen tight. I didn't WANT a new me. I wanted the old me. The one who had courageously decided to try and get pregnant. The one who was so surprised by how quickly I did get pregnant. The one who had thought I was going to begin this year with a growing abdomen--a sure sign of life. The old me who was on the road to becoming a mother. The one who was enough.
I didn't want this new me. The one whose body had failed at her first attempt to nurture a life. The one who would no longer meet future pregnancies without anxiety. I didn't want this new me, the one who had had a miscarriage. The new me who would walk through her life never feeling like she was enough again.
So I sat somewhere between who I had wished to become and who I now was. The dichotomy of the old and new sat heavily in the air. Eventually as the days turned into weeks the heaviness began to transform. It transformed into meditation. Instead of trying to numb myself with TV, Facebook, or wine, I confronted my emotions. I allowed them to arise. I sat with my grief. I sat with my sadness. I sat with me (whoever that "me" was) without judgement.
Eventually my emotions morphed into a creation of firm boundaries. I did not say yes to anything unless I wholeheartedly wanted to. Gone were the days of social politeness. When we were invited to my nephew’s birthday party the following month I knew my heart was not ready and we did not go. I had stepped into a new found confidence. I spoke up for what I needed and sat comfortably in my requests.
Below the shattered pieces of my heart, a deep strength had begun to surface. And something really amazing happened--deep layers of myself started to emerge. They weren't new layers; they had always been there but it was my ability to sit with my darkness that had brought them to light. I realized then that I had indeed changed, but I was not a "new" me. I had simply become more of who I had always been. And that, I have learned, is more than enough.
Aditi Loveridge has personally experienced the pain and the loneliness that comes after pregnancy loss. Over the course of her journey, she began to see that her losses had impacted her in ways that she had never imagined, and she was undeniably changed. This led her to become a Doula and a life coach.
Aditi specializes in supporting women and families who have experienced previous pregnancy and/or infant loss. Her coaching sessions are designed to support you through every step of your journey from initial loss coaching, conception coaching, through to pregnancy and postpartum support.