Village support & pregnancy loss
[Trigger warning — pregnancy loss / miscarriage]
The universe has sent its final message for me to slow down, by way of an ankle injury that has forced me onto the couch. The last three weeks have been like no other. Off the back of months of no childcare, a month of the biggest doula client load I’ve had so far, and my husband getting a new role at work — we bought our dream house (via a surreal online auction). High on life and the promise of what the next year was going to bring for our little family. One which involved a second baby, happily taking up residence in my womb.
I was relishing the opportunity to apply all of the birth and postpartum knowledge I’ve acquired over the last two years to set myself up for the birth and postpartum of my dreams, and scaling back clients to allow for that. Days later, as we began the flurry of activity of preparing our house for sale, the bleeding started. I lost my baby. I lost my pregnancy. I had a miscarriage. My baby died. The language around this is so vexed - and something I am only starting to grapple now being in these trenches myself. With twice-weekly house inspections and everything that involves, plus work, it has been hard to even begin to process or really lean into the grief. Beautiful flower deliveries to commemorate our loss have become decorations for house inspections.
But in the moments of reflection that I have tried hard to carve out, I am struck by feelings of deep sorrow, but also gratitude.
Gratitude for having started the process of consciously considering my care provider and starting to plan for a village of support around us for pregnancy and postpartum.
Gratitude for having engaged with @mama_melbourne midwives in early pregnancy - something which meant that the wonderful Jan was there for me, on the Sunday and Monday as it all unfolded, to guide and hold me through it all. To say the right things (and not ‘better luck next time’ like the sonographer, or ‘so are you still pregnant?’ like the woman taking my bloods). Jan’s wise counsel, and practical assistance over those days, confirmed everything I had heard about the benefits of woman-centred midwifery led care.
A sense of gratitude for being where I am at personally, not where I was at before becoming a mum to Hugo, and feeling better placed to experience this loss (if that is ever possible). For having benefited from the seismic shift in my identity that came from becoming a mother and my journey to this point of doula work.
I had always said I would share news of pregnancy early because I wanted those around me to know if something did go wrong (all the while thinking that, no matter how common I knew pregnancy loss to be, it would not happen to me). When this happened, I thought back on this often. I am still glad we did share our news, and invited others into that period of joy for our family. In the days that followed I reached out to all of those who I had shared our news with and who I had hoped to bring into my village for this baby - and as it turned out, I needed them just as much in these times of sadness - @mama_melbourne , @ggeorgiajane - my student midwife to be, who then treated my body with one of her beautifully restorative massages, Addi from @upliftedcollective who delivered some treats to lift spirits, my wonderful network of close friends and family, clients, and the broader birth and postpartum ‘online’ village here.
I am angry and grieving for myself and our family, but also for the women and families who are left alone in this process, or who feel they cannot share their loss, and who therefore are not given the support that they desperately need. These weeks have made me appreciate more than ever how common pregnancy and infant loss is, but also how the system is still so broken, and the knowledge and awareness around what to say to those experiencing loss (including early pregnancy loss) still has so far to go.
