Four Trimesters Birth Stories
I have been deeply uninspired. For the past two years, I have lived through 2 pregnancies, 2 miscarriages and am living in 2 week cycles between ovulation-menstruation-ovulation-menstruation whilst hoping to get pregnant, stay pregnant and eventually have a healthy baby.
Already in my early forties, I only got married at 40 and we made a conscious decision to not try for a pregnancy to give our 15 year old son time to adjust to his new family. Not having met his biological father, he has no idea what it truly means to have a father figure in his life when all he had ever experienced was latching on to the male figures passing through the seasons.
So three years in, we decided it was time before it was too late. All these years of trying not to get pregnant, you would not have expected that getting pregnant, followed by staying pregnant would be equally, if not much more, difficult!
The first miscarriage towards the end of the first trimester caught me completely off guard. It started with spotting on the first day of my first sewing class. I quickly went to the Obstetrician to have my blood taken to test for my HCG levels and by the next day, I did not need to know the results. My Doctor who is also a colleague and a friend said ‘I am sorry but you have miscarried. You will probably bleed out in the next 12 hours.’ I did not know it at that time but that was all I needed to hear to give myself permission to let go, except that I was scheduled to teach antenatal classes and workshops all day. If I were to cancel the classes and workshops for ‘being unwell’, it might cause people to worry about covid-19. If I were to say I miscarried, it might be too much for the pregnant and new parents to be able to deal with. So what do I do? I do what I do best - keep calm and carry on.
Until today, I still don’t know how I managed to teach whilst miscarrying. All I remember is running to the toilet during the two breaks over 4 hours. I nearly passed out from the first toilet break from the loss of blood. As the cramps got worse, I placed warmed rice socks on my belly as I continued teaching. By the second break, I was making a dash to the bathroom as I could feel the blood soaking through my black leggings. When I went to see my Dr for a post review, he was surprised when he found that that I did not take any painkillers. It was important for me to feel the pain, and the physical pain was in no comparison to my broken heart and lost hopes and dreams.
We did not discover the second miscarriage until we were at the Doctor’s office and there was no heartbeat. The pregnancy symptoms were so real until a week before the check up so I thought it was because I was getting closer to the second trimester that I was feeling better.
One week after the first miscarriage, I churned out a 52 page informational website in a week. The energy had to go somewhere and once again, doing what I do best, it went into a force for good. The second time around, something in me starting killing me softly day by day. Whilst very functional, doing what I do best, living a very purposeful life serving childbearing women and their families - I was not motivated, something felt dead inside.
I lived in 2 week cycles - between ovulation and menstruation, waiting to see if I managed to get pregnant again, or not. And when pregnant, waiting to see if I stayed pregnant, or not. I could not commit to anything as I watch my health and metal wellness slowly slip through my fingers.
It was not until a few weeks ago when I decided to hire a personal trainer, that I decided that it was time to pick up the pieces. It was time to reassess what brought me joy. Around the same time, I finally managed to finish reading an entire book and I felt invigorated. Being an avid reader, I thought something was wrong with me when nothing seemed to be able to hold my attention for months now. As I was reading through my second book, I felt inspired to create again - and this time, sharing the stories of my journey as a doula with these women and their families.
As I sunk deep into the darkness and sat with my sorrows, I found the stories of others also buried deep within me - all those moments of holding the space for women and their families, also sat the stories of tears, joy and sorrow. This is Four Trimesters Birth Stories - the kitchen table where these stories find a voice.
