The dictionary defines the word "grief" as "keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret." I searched the definition because I was and am convinced I am dying. No word so small can even begin to describe what is happening to my mind, my heart and my soul. I thought for sure my current state went beyond the boundaries of such a tiny word, a word with such specific implications for behavior. I thought for sure this word only applied to situations where there is some kind of script for handling them- the loss of a parent, a natural disaster, etc. Situations that most people go through and can relate to. I had been convinced that there was a specific word that would apply to my complex situation- the word "grief" did not seem to cover it.
It seemed unfair that there wasn't a protocol attached to this word that was supposed to sum up my feelings. How does one handle a situation that most people don't even talk about? The words "failed pregnancy," "stillborn," or "pregnancy loss" are taboo and unwelcome in our world. Not only was I facing a situation that no one talks about, but I was facing a unique situation within those confines. And although it exists, most people don't encounter women who have suffered second trimester losses- it's so uncommon that even most doctors consider it to be rare or impossible. "You're past twelve weeks- you're fine! What are you worried about? If a baby makes it past twelve weeks it's pretty much a guarantee." Um no, no it's not. I am living proof of that...and my daughter, Quinn Westlynn Cunha? Her short life is proof of that too. Thinking back to hearing those words from one doctor surfaces a rage inside of me that I am actually scared of.
So, not only am I "grieving" in an arena that most people don't even mention...losing a pregnancy...a BABY... is considered "silent suffering"...but even within that arena I am in a situation that most Americans don't even think is possible. Losing a baby in the second trimester is as likely, to some people, as Barack Obama being a U.S. citizen or the Holocaust ever actually happening.
Beyond that, what does one do when the word "grief" doesn't cover the array of emotions coursing through my heart and body in the wake of this? How do you recover from something so unexpected and what some would consider "impossible?" There isn't a script or even suggestions for how to overcome this unique situation. On one hand I think about the daughter I have lost- her perfect hands and feet...her nose a miniature version of her Daddy's- and the breath is ripped right out of me. I have lost a daughter, there is no getting over that. On the other hand I am also "grieving" so many other things. Questions of "why"- "why me" or "why did this happen" plague my every waking moment. Fear for my future incapacitates me daily. Will I ever have kids? Is there something wrong with me? Can I face a future without kids? Even if I have moments of hope that I could get pregnant again soon I am then filled with dread- how would I face another pregnancy after having been through what I have been through? How would I be able to function knowing that one could end so suddenly and horribly just as this one did? Can my body, mind and spirit handle another loss should it happen again?
Mostly though my "grief" manifests not in the big questions and obvious pain that would come from the above situations, but rather when I do the simplest and smallest things. Of course it hurts to see pregnant women, baby clothes, or hear someone has just learned they are pregnant or has just had a child. However, this "grief" hits me harder when I think about this life and how much courage it will take to face it again after this. I get sad and tired thinking of the amount of energy it will take to be functional again in a world that is so unpredictable and cruel. Although it is irrational, the idea of facing each day knowing what can be ripped away from you at any moment- hopes, dreams, family members- is exhausting. Now I am "grieving" the time when I woke smiling- never having known pain on this level. I grieve the loss of my spirit, my faith and my happiness because at this point they are lost to me and I fear a world without them.
So yes, according to the dictionary I suppose the word "grief" does apply to my current state. What the definition fails to mention is the all-encompassing effect of the grief on my spirit. It doesn't mention that I am lost and afraid because I know I will never be the same and I am scared of the world that has brought this pain in my lap. I am afraid to love as hard as I once did, afraid to feel as deeply as I once did. I can sense the hard shell already forming over my heart. Perhaps that is what I am "grieving" the most- the loss of the "me" that loved without abandon. I know one should not live life with fear in one's heart but when I peek inside my own the walls I have already started building to protect myself show how fearful I am. Fearful to face this world that has asked me to "grieve" so deeply.
Right now all I can do is trust that God did this for a reason and be brave while I wait for that reason to be revealed to me. It is in the waiting that I find myself wishing for a script to follow- to guide me out of this nightmare and back into the waking world where I can love again without fear.
Bethany,
ReplyDeleteOur worlds have certainly steared us in different directions these past adulthood years, but I still feel a youthful connection to you. My heart expands in your direction. This grief you speak of is...unspeakable. What you said about loosing a child so late in a pregrnancy not being spoken about, is so true. It is so true how it is this thing that people whole up on their homes and grieve over silently. Our new world of communication has changed this idea so much. And I don't belive that is a bad thing. Our commnities are so different from what they used to be. They no longer are confined by physical borders. We know all about each other and share a community in new ways. And it is so very brave of you to open your heart to all of us and share what you are feeling. People have different reasons to grieve. And I do not think anyone would dispute that your reason is incredibly real. But, and I say this with so, so much love, you can not let your grief define you. You can not. You MUST still love with abandon. Perhaps it will not come as naturally right now, but it IS in you. Your vibrance, your joy, our kindness, your sillines, your big heart, is what defines you. It is your gift to the world, and the gift you gave to Quinn. You must love for her. You must poor love into her memory. Do not shut it out, or try to stifle it away when the pain begins to take over. Choose love. Even when it is the most difficult. Choose love. Even when it is the emotion you feel you have completely forgotten. Choose love. And, little by little, it will become more natural again. There may be a time when you see some sense in this event. But maybe not. To keep searching for an answer will be madness. I think you know that feeling already. I can speak from loss, and anger at having someone taken from me, but not as a mother loosing a child. I don't even begin to understand that pain. I know for certain though, that choosing love is the path you must take. Consciously make the decision to love. And love will certainly find you again. I know you will find that it has always been there.
Bethany-
ReplyDeleteI've struggled to find the right words since I read of the loss of your daughter, but realize that no 'right' combination of words will change what happened. Know that so many people, myself included, are thinking of you and your husband and keeping you two in our hearts.
It was incredibly brave of you to share the experience of your pregnancy loss and the overwhelming emotions and struggle that has ensued. We so often expect people to hide away their grief and keep hidden their loss- which makes it even harder to go through. I don't claim to know what you're going through, but having lost close loved ones, there is much rage and despair and sadness that comes with death-- and it's important to acknowledge all of that and not try to pretend as if everything is ok.
I hope that over the coming days and months that you are able to find what you need to keep going- whatever that is.
I hope that sharing yourself and your story with others serves as a means of catharsis and healing.
I hope that others can find strength and support by reading your words and knowing that they aren't alone in dealing with such a heart-breaking situation.
I hope that time will bring laughter and light and love into your life and heart again.
Sending support and love from the west coast,
Emily (Smith)
Both Lisa and Emily,
DeleteI read your replies to my post over a year later and am filled with gratitude that you reached out to comfort me in this perilous time. Both of your replies were so thoughtful and filled with love and tenderness for me. I think of you both so fondly and our time together as teenagers and young adults. It is comforting to know there are people like you both out there in the world. You are both such beautiful people, inside and out. I hope all is well with you and that one day I can return the favor and be there for you in a time of need.
With so much love,
Bethany