Tag Archives: grief

Every Birth is Natural

By Kelly Coyle DiNorcia, API Leader. Originally published in the 2009 “New Baby” issue of Attached Family magazine

Photo: Bas Silderhuis
Photo: Bas Silderhuis

When I became pregnant with my daughter, I had every intention of having a “natural” childbirth. I wanted to labor at home without pain medication, to fully experience her entry into the world. I left my obstetrician’s practice and found a midwife whom I loved and who assured me that the birth I wanted was within my reach.

Of course, life does not always turn out the way we plan. Complications arose, necessitating interventions that eventually led to a Cesarean birth. The whole birth experience was traumatic, and I was angry and disappointed. I spent the first several months of motherhood feeling inadequate and depressed, and missed a lot of the joy that new babies can bring. After much reflection, I came to recognize my two biggest mistakes:

  1. I treated my pregnancy as an impending deadline—Instead of embracing the coming transition, I used those nine months to finish up projects. I was a student, I worked full time, and I was an active and dedicated volunteer –and all these things were important to me. I struggled with the idea that once I added “mother” to my list, something else would have to give because I wasn’t willing to sacrifice any of them. I insisted on plowing on … when I developed gestational diabetes, when I broke my foot in the seventh month of my pregnancy, when my feet swelled so much that I couldn’t put on shoes, when my blood pressure began to rise. I refused to stop and rest.
  2. I believed that my body would be permitted to give birth as it was built to do—It is certainly true that women are built, from a biological, physiological, anatomical and evolutionary perspective, to have offspring and that most of the time this can be done safely without intervention. However, what I did not realize was that the modern medical system is not designed to allow that to happen for most women, and that it can take a great deal of education, effort and willpower to fight for a natural birth. Most birth practitioners see birth not as a natural process but a necessity to be endured and sped through if possible, using whatever means are available to move things along. Avoiding this pitfall requires a great deal of preparation and soul-searching.

Deciding on VBAC

With this in mind, I began preparing for my Vaginal Birth After Cesarean (VBAC) within weeks of my first baby’s birth. I quizzed the surgeon about the location and orientation of my scar, the reasons for my daughter’s failure to descend and my chances for a future vaginal birth. He assured me that the surgery had gone well, and there was no reason I couldn’t attempt a VBAC. At the time, I didn’t know this was doctor-ese for “But your chances of success are about nil.”

I joined support groups. I read. I wrote in my journal. I entered therapy. I learned about the current medical model of obstetrics. I researched how I could take care of myself to prevent many of the complications I had experienced. I waited, and when the time was right, I became pregnant.

“By no means is it justifiable for anyone to be made to feel negatively about whatever birthing options they choose or for whatever birthing experience they have had. We all deserve to have our birthing choices and experiences validated.” Read more by Tamara Parnay in “The Importance of Sharing Birth Stories

Unfortunately, my former midwife was no longer attending VBACs, so I was forced to start from square one and find a new provider. I was frustrated that I had to tell my story over and over and face so many negative reactions from providers who were pessimistic about my chances for success, but I came to realize that this was really a gift. I had the chance to start fresh, carefully consider my options and know that I had given myself the best chance for my desired outcome. I ended up going with the first midwives I interviewed – their VBAC success rate was very high, I felt instantly at ease with them, I liked their office and their hospital, and their backup doctors were incredibly supportive of natural birth and even collaborated with most of the homebirth midwives in my area.

I also asked a close friend of mine who is a doula to be with me during my birth. During my first pregnancy, I thought a support person was an unnecessary luxury, but this time, I knew better: having a woman there who was supportive and knowledgeable, and whose only responsibility was to help me through the process, was a necessity.

A Second Chance

I spent this pregnancy resting, eating well (when I wasn’t vomiting) and preparing myself and my family for the impending arrival of my son. I was able to avoid the medical complications of my previous pregnancy, I attended Bradley classes and when the time came, I was ready.

After a few false starts, labor started on a Friday at about 11:00 p.m. Unlike many of the videos I had seen of women giving birth surrounded by family and friends, I preferred darkness and solitude. While my family slept, I paced, showered, squatted, groaned and bounced. When daylight came, I called my midwife, doula and mother and then woke my family.

By the time I got to the hospital, I was 6 centimeters dilated and was having strong and regular contractions. We were given the room with the birth tub, which I was not able to use because there was meconium in the amniotic fluid, and I was allowed to use a fetal monitor that worked by telemetry so I could change position, walk and even shower.

I’m not really sure how long it took, but as darkness fell, the time had come to push. I walked around, squatted, laid on my back and side, and pushed for several hours. Eventually, I looked at my midwife and said, “Check.” But I knew that my baby hadn’t moved, that he was stuck high in the birth canal, that I was headed to the operating room again.

The nurses prepared me for surgery, the surgeon and anesthesiologist came in to introduce themselves, and my midwife helped my husband and friend pack all of our belongings as I struggled against the urge to push, waiting for an operating room to open up.

A little after 9:00 p.m. on Saturday, Harrison “Harry” Herbert Francis was born weighing 9 pounds, 1 ounce. He was healthy and robust, and the surgery went well. As soon as I was in recovery, my doula came in to check on us, and my midwife brought my son so I could nurse him, which he did easily and with gusto. He accompanied me to our room, where he stayed for our entire hospital stay.

Every Birth is Natural

When I met my first midwife, she had told me of her disdain for the term “natural childbirth.” She prefers the term “unmedicated childbirth,” because “natural” implies that there exists an unnatural way to give birth. However it happens for you, she said, is natural for you.

“Yeah, whatever,” I thought at the time, “be that as it may, I am going to give birth naturally, like our foremothers did, with no medication, no intervention, just me having a baby.”

Now, I know exactly what she meant. My second birth was not natural in the sense in which that term is commonly used, but I feel like it was as natural as possible under the circumstances.

I am still bitterly disappointed that I will probably never know what it is like to bring new life into the world on my own power, and I regret that I could not spend my children’s first moments of life snuggling and counting digits. Sometimes I feel like a marathon runner who fell within inches of the finish line and just … couldn’t …make… it … across. I hate that I am another statistic of a failed VBAC attempt and that I was unable to support other women for whom this opportunity is becoming increasingly scarce.

On the other hand, I am incredibly grateful to live in a time and place where the medical technology was available to bring my son and me safely through labor. I am empowered to know that I was strong and determined enough to at least make it to the finish line even if I couldn’t cross. And, of course, I am thankful for my two beautiful children. I won’t say that all the rest doesn’t matter as long as we are all healthy, because I believe that our birth stories do matter and that we are entitled to mourn the loss of the birth we wanted but couldn’t have. After all, whenever a baby is born, so is a mother. But in the end, I also believe that we all have the birth we need to make us better parents and people, and I am no less a woman or a mother because of the way my children came into the world.

To read more birth stories from our growing collection–or to find out how to share yours–visit Your Birth Stories on The Attached Family.com.

Tomorrow is the Last Day He is Four

By Emily Cherkin, originally published on StartEmpathy.org, reprinted with permission from Ashoka.

This morning, it snowed in Seattle.  And it reminded me of the night Max was born, almost exactly five years ago, when it was sunny and rainy and windy and then, in the middle of the night, when we were upside down about time and date, we looked out the window and saw snow swirling around.  I don’t remember much about those early days and hours, but I do remember the snow.525200_73544751 balloon

Five years ago, newly pregnant, my husband and I were full of expectation and wonder at how much our lives were about to change.  Like many mothers-to-be, I was fixated on the labor and delivery part of this journey.  I felt somewhat confident the newborn challenges would be manageable, but I knew the labor and birth were all on me.  I diligently took the birth classes, read the books, talked to our midwife and hired a doula.

The one piece of information from our birth class I recalled in the middle of a long and arduous labor was the phrase: “Transition is usually the shortest and most intense phase of labor, lasting about 30 minutes on average.”  When I arrived at the hospital birthing center, 24 hours into labor with Max and nearly fully dilated, I heard the nurses’ whispers: “Transition; she’s in transition.”  Five hours later, I was still “in transition” and nothing I had learned in class seemed applicable anymore.  It would be another seven hours before Max would make his appearance in the world. Continue reading Tomorrow is the Last Day He is Four

Grief in Children

By Margie Wagner & Callie Little, Child Development Media, www.childdevelopmentmedia.com, reprinted with permission

It goes without saying that the grieving process is a complicated and intensely personal one. It is difficult enough for adults to deal with the loss of a loved one, but it can be even more difficult for children, particularly if their adult caregivers are working through their own grief. Understanding how grief affects children at various developmental stages and knowing the best ways to assist children as they grieve can help children to process their grief in the most healthy way possible. Keep in mind that, while grief is usually associated with a death, there are many circumstances under which children grieve. Separation due to the dissolution of a relationship or due to a military deployment or job-related separation can also cause grief in children.

Reactions to Loss and How to Help

How old a child is at the time of loss certainly affects the child’s perception of the event.  Although babies are unable to express themselves verbally, they will certainly exhibit reactions to loss. They may seem more fussy, inconsolable, or have changes in their eating and sleeping patterns. Very young children, ages 2 to 4, are egocentric: they think the world revolves around them, and their concept of death is limited. They may think that death is reversible, and their main reactions to death may be that their daily routine and care are altered. The adult whom they have lost, or who is also grieving, will be either absent or unable to care for the child in the accustomed manner. At this age, reactions are often regressive, exhibiting themselves in eating, sleeping, or toileting disruptions. Children this age need reassurance and consistency. Try to maintain regular routines and to be comforting, giving hugs and kisses and lots of gentle touches. Keep the discussions of death short, but keep interactions with the child frequent. Even if you feel like the baby or young child cannot understand your words, they will understand your interest in their feelings and your wish to console them. Keep talking – it will help you to get used to the discussions that will become longer and more detailed as the child gets older, and it will help you to figure out what to say.

Continue reading Grief in Children

Why You Should Talk to Your Kids About Death

By Sarina Behar Natkin, LICSW, www.growparenting.com, reprinted with permission

As a parent educator, I rarely use the word “should.” As a matter of fact, I cringe at the idea of giving parents one more SHOULD, almost as much as many parents cringe at the idea of talking to their kids about death.sarina natkin

But after a spate of violence and random death in Seattle, I realized how few parents discuss the topic of death with their children before they are forced to. This is where the SHOULD comes in. We should talk to them because it will help our children and us move through the pain of loss just a little bit easier. For those of us who have lost loved ones, even the tiniest bit easier is worth it.

Many parents say they don’t talk to their kids about the concept of death because they don’t know what to say. While that may be true, I suspect that belief is coming from the idea that we don’t want to scare our children or worry them. But we do our children a disservice if we let those hard emotions stop us from sharing something that is as much a part of life as life itself.

Imagine your child’s first day of school. What if, because you didn’t want them to feel scared or worried, you avoided the word “school” for years? What happens when the first day of school arrives? How might that first drop-off feel for them? For you? My guess is with no framework or understanding of where they are and what they are doing there, our kids might feel pretty scared, alone, and quite anxious.

Of course we don’t do this! Many parents spend a great deal of time carefully preparing their child for school. It’s not usually a sit-down formal conversation about the history and theory of elementary education. It’s many small moments throughout early childhood that help them build a mental model for this concept of school. Those mental models are what help decrease fear and anxiety, and more importantly, normalize a part of life for most Americans. Continue reading Why You Should Talk to Your Kids About Death

The Parade of Little Girls

By Tamara Brennan

parade of little girlsSooner or later, in every child’s life, it’s bound to happen. For my tender child, unexpected rejection came from her very first friend and before her third birthday. Clarisa and her shadow, little sister Antonia, live on the other side of a wire fence just outside our kitchen in southern Mexico.

As soon as Nicole could walk, she would stand at the fence and call out to the little girls. To her great delight, they would come and together they’d enter the magic bubble of little girl friendship. Early on, Niki was so thrilled to have contact with other children that she ran into the house for her best toys to pass to them through the fence. For a long time to a short life, the girls were her most treasured friends. She gave the oldest friend the nickname “Coliflor,” cauliflower in Spanish.

Every morning, Nicole gleefully raced over to the fence to call Coliflor out of her house, the unbuttoned lower parts of her pajama top flapping like the mudflaps on a semi-trailer as she bounced through the long grass.

Heartbreak

Suddenly one day, as I watched from the kitchen, my forlorn child called over and over to the children who refused to look her way. The chill that began that day never warmed up. The family on the other side of our fence has had its share of challenges with alchoholism and even child abuse. This friendship was not to be, and my Niki was crushed.

“Coliflor no habla,” (won’t talk to me), she would say over and over all day long for days. Not wanting to slap a “mean-girl” label on the kid, I instead modeled how one sees beyond the hurt toward understanding that sometimes people are complicated. I told her that the girls might have a tummy ache to buy time while hoping they’d come around. Regrettably, a talk with their mom confirmed that, yes, people are complicated.

Healing Takes Time…and Patience

Every afternoon, my daughter and I go on a walk at the urging of our dog Gandhi. Days after the Coliflor freeze began, we came upon a little girl sitting in front of her house. “Well hello!” I, the eager mama, said. Niki refused to come out from behind my legs. After a brief chat, Yaremi ran to get her favorite toys to show Nicole. But my wary child would not go near this unfamiliar short female person. After all, there was not even a fence for protection. The little girl was persistent and engaging, so eventually Niki loosened her grip on my legs and ventured a little closer.

The next day we went back. This time, three little girls rushed over to Nicole like a group of eager puppies. Despite my reassurances, she dashed up the street a safe distance and hugged her dolly like a shield over her heart. Fortunately, the urge to bond and play was stronger than her memory of being shunned. After a couple more afternoon meetings on that street, the warmth started to thaw her reflexive need to protect herself.

As we walked home, I would ask her to tell me the story of her experience with these new girls. One afternoon, I tried to find my way to the most tender point of hurt in my daughter’s heart, so I could better read the questions floating above the accident scene where her innocence had been damaged. As we made our way home past the familiar landmarks, she covered her ears as we reached the angry dog that always barked ferociously from the roof as we passed. Rounding the corner, the friendly street dogs swarmed around us saying their hellos. We knew all the dogs from so many walks and even had names for them. Then it hit me.

“Honey, when we walk, we go past all kinds of dogs. There’s Barky! She’s so loud and she scares us. But you know what? There are other dogs: Dirty-happy dog, Sleepy dog, Blackie, Little guy, and all the others that we know. Of all those dogs, only one is scary, only one. All of the rest say ‘hi’ and want to play with Gandhi. One barky dog and lots that want to play. And it’s the same with little girls!” After some silence, she stopped walking and looked at me. I knew I was on sacred ground.

Healing through Song

This new insight begged for its own song. Ours has grown into an epic with many verses, shifting lyrics, and a mixture of English and Spanish. Its healing power comes from it’s evolving form.

In the parade of little girls, there are many little girls,
Happy ones, friendly ones, cutie ones, bouncy ones
Lots of little girls.

Coliflor no habla, adiós Coliflor.
No habla, no habla, adiós Coliflor.
I wish you a happy life.
I hope you never get a tummy ache.
I have to go now and play with my new friends.

For days, Nicole would make the request, “Mama sing the Coliflor part,” over and over as it goes with little minds working to get used to a new idea. So I’d sing at breakfast while we could hear the neighbor girls playing near our kitchen and throughout the day.

One day, we went to get Yaremi to come play at Nicole’s house. Niki skipped with delight beside her friend as we walked up our hill. The song grew new verses and old parts shifted to accommodate new experience.

Yaremi is my friend; she comes to my house,
And we play with my crayons and we play on my swing,
And we eat yummy soup and we…

Cayla is my friend. She lives in Guatemala.
She comes to my house and she sits in my chair.
Adios Coliflor.
Cayla is my friend.

The other morning, as the sun rose over the mountain and reached into our house, we were awakened to Nicole singing her song. The last verse ended with a list of her friends and the most lovely line: “I have all my new friends, and I’m really, really happy!” In the dawn’s gentle light, my heart burst out in a song of its own.

Today at lunchtime, I asked Niki about her progress toward finishing her meal. “Sweetie, are you eating your veggies?” I asked. Grinning, she held up a piece of cauliflower and blessed me with one of those classic, little child jokes, “Mommy, Adios Coliflor!”

Heal Thyself through Birth Storytelling

By Rita Brhel, managing editor and attachment parenting resource leader (API)

Healing through our birth storiesIn preparing the Spring 2009 issue of The Attached Family, I asked a number of women to tell their birth stories who were too uncomfortable in doing so. They were still working through emotions of disappointment, fear, and sometimes guilt surrounding their baby’s birth – even years afterward.

It is obvious that emotional healing is a process, similar in many ways to grieving over the death of a loved one. In fact, the emotional healing process after a traumatic birth is a type of grief: You are grieving over a loss – having to settle for a labor and/or childbirth that may be very different than you imagined it, the loss of your expected recovery or early attachment period with your baby, even the loss of a healthy baby. For some women, the loss may not be so obvious – perhaps you didn’t get to hold your baby after your birth, or you had an I.V. or catheter or couldn’t walk around during your labor as much as you wanted to. Not all losses have to be catastrophic or major to cause a feeling of grief.

“Shock is a normal psychological and physiological response to an unknown, intense or perceived biologically-threatening situation,” according to Pam England, author of Birthing from Within, in her article, “Birth Shock,” on BirthingFromWithin.com. “Labor, even normal labor, qualifies for all of those categories. So birth shock is a completely normal response to either normal or complicated births and postpartum; it occurs in home births and hospitals births.”

Dr. Elizabeth Kübler-Ross was a doctor who spent time studying the emotions patients in Swiss hospitals go through when they learn they have a terminal illness. She wrote On Death and Dying in 1969, where she identified seven stages of grief people typically go through as they work through the emotional impact of the loss of their dreams for their life. Commonly referred to as the Grief Cycle, these stages are common with all forms of loss – such as the loss of a job or pet, and theoretically could be applied to the emotions surrounding a disappointing birth experience.

“Grief is a process of physical, emotional, social, and cognitive reactions to loss,” according to Lori Godin, a licensed marriage and family therapist in San Jose, California (ModernLife.org). “The grieving process is often a hard one to work through. It requires patience with ourselves and with other. Although responses to loss are as diverse as the people experiencing it, patterns or stages that are commonly experienced have emerged.”

The Grief Cycle

The Grief Cycle is often condensed to five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. The original Grief Cycle created by Kübler-Ross includes actually seven stages, which are outlined on ChangingMinds.org:

  1. ShockSymptoms: At first, the person may appear to have no reaction at all, or may nod and appear to accept the news without being troubled by it. The person may need to be told several times before they understand it, which is indicative by a physical reaction such as paling of the skin, shortness of breath, and physical freezing. Treatment: The person should be sat down and given something to hold onto. Show them sympathy and acceptance. Prevention: While there is no prevention of the Grief Cycle, the reactions of the Shock Stage may be lessened some by telling the person the news in a private, safe place with the company of trusted friends or family.
  2. DenialSymptoms: The person pretends that nothing has happened, including denying any evidence that would prove the news to be real. Treatment: Show sympathy by letting the person know that you, too, find it unfair. This will help the person feel safe to become angry about the situation, which opens up their ability to deal with their emotions.
  3. AngerSymptoms: The person may swing suddenly and explosively into anger, as she asks “why me?” She may freely blame people, places, and events – anything that may have been involved in the situation. Treatment: Allow them to feel angry and don’t deny their feelings, much as attachment parents do with their toddlers’ tantrums. However, should the anger become destructive, remind the person of appropriate and inappropriate behavior and help her to reframe her anger into useful channels such as problem areas, tasks, hobbies, and other ways to move forward. Prevention: Again, while the Anger Stage cannot be prevented and is essential to move through the Grief Cycle, you should be aware of your reactions when faced with another person’s anger. Do not turn it into an argument, as this could push the person back into denial or cause future problems. Support and accept their anger, and let them be angry at you, especially if the person’s “why me?” turns into “why not you?”
  4. Bargaining Symptoms: The person feels hopeful that the situation is reversible. She seeks in vain for ways to avoid the situation. Treatment: While you can help the person seek out practical alternatives, do not offer the person any false hope. Offer new opportunities for personal growth.
  5. DepressionSymptoms: The person finally feels the inevitability of the situation and reluctantly accepts it. This can be a deep depression full of despair and hopelessness. Depression can present in many ways, from tearfulness to sleeping all the time to loss of joy in hobbies. As they turn into themselves, they turn away from any possible solution or person who can help them. Treatment: Show sympathy and acceptance. Your presence, while it may not be acknowledged, can be comforting to the person. Professional counseling may be needed to help the person recognize their depression and then find a way out of depression.
  6. TestingSymptoms: The person begins to experiment with activities to find ways out of the depression. Treatment: The support of friends, family, and sometimes professional counselors can help tremendously during this stage. Give the person as much control over the situation as possible, as you help them try different solutions.
  7. AcceptanceSymptoms: The person feels ready and actively involved in moving on with her life. The person takes ownership for their actions and emotions. They start doing things and taking note of the results, and then changing their actions in response. They appear increasingly happier and more content. Treatment: Help the person to establish themselves in their new position on life. Congratulate them on getting through the emotional healing process, and celebrate the transition of their transition.

“Knowing these stages can sometimes help in coping with the process of grief and recognizing that there is a light at the end of the tunnel,” Godlin continues. “It should be noted that although most people experience all of the following stages, they do not experience them with the same duration or in the same order or with the same intensity. It is a very unique process.”

The Grief Cycle in a Birth Story

For this exercise, I am referring to my daughter’s birth story, “The Story of Rachel,” in the Birth Stories section. Try dissecting this story and see if you can identify any of the stages of the Grief Cycle.

Here’s what I came up with:

  1. Shock – “My first thought was that I had lost the baby, but as soon as I stood up, I felt a kick. I couldn’t grasp that she was still alive when it was clear from the blood that things were not at all OK.”
  2. Denial – “I had no idea was he was trying to tell me — I thought the drugs would work, the pregnancy would last until my baby was term, my baby wouldn’t need any sort of NICU care.”
  3. Bargaining – “I braved each contraction, with the help of my dad and a nurse as my coaches since I had never been through childbirth classes, with the expectation that the drugs would work.”
  4. Depression – “It was devastating to hear the doctors say there was nothing more they could do to stop labor and that my baby’s well-being was left to fate.”

Note that I did not appear to go through all the stages. As Godlin mentioned, not everyone goes through every stage of the Grief Cycle, or through in the same order. In addition, some women may grieve their births immediately, while others may wait. Some may think they have accepted the circumstances surrounding their child’s birth but then find a trigger in another’s birth story or when a close friend or sister becomes pregnant for the first time. Many women don’t grieve until they’re pregnant again, or even just considering whether or not they want more children.

What my birth story doesn’t tell you is, I didn’t feel angry until I was pregnant with my second daughter, Emily, and then especially after her Cesarean.  As far as the testing and acceptance stages go, while I believe I’ve accepted the way my birth progressed with Rachel, I’m still bouncing in and out of acceptance and anger with Emily’s birth. Because the two births were only a year apart, it’s difficult to sort out exactly which emotions go with which birth and it’s very possible the two’s Grief Cycles have enmeshed with one another.

Why Birth Storytelling is Needed

Everyone’s birth story is unique unto itself, and every person sees disappointments, fear, and guilt in their own way. This is why it is sometimes difficult to find empathy or sympathy from others, and why it can be useful to use the telling and retelling of our birth story as therapy in working through the Grief Cycle. In the article, “Emotional Recovery from a Cesarean,” on Plus-Size-Pregnancy.org, we learn that many women who suffer from emotional trauma following a Cesarean birth often then feel additional isolation and hurt by friends and family who have difficulty understanding the need to mourn a birth when the baby and mother are ultimately healthy.

According to the article, some people don’t understand the scope of a Cesarean, thinking it’s more or less interchangeable with vaginal birth; others come from an age where interventions during birth, such as putting women out of consciousness or giving them massive episiotomies, were the norm. Some people may disregard a woman’s grief because they don’t want anything to overshadow their own joy of the new baby. Some people may be unable to feel empathy because they have unresolved issues from their own birth experiences, even seemingly normal ones, or because they happy with their interventions, even a Cesarean, and don’t understand why you wouldn’t feel the same way.

The article goes on to acknowledge the power of birth storytelling in emotional healing. In fact, the author, who is identified only as KMom, stresses that telling the birth story is crucial in starting the healing process: “This is one of the most difficult steps for some women, but it really is very important in getting the healing started.  If you can’t name what happened to you, then you can’t fully understand it or begin to make it different next time.  Name the problem, talk about what happened, then retell your story over and over and over. “

Healing Through Our Birth Stories

With the internet, it’s easier now to find ways of telling your birth story. You can share it on the API Forum, where parents are always ready to give support. You can submit your story to be included on The Attached Family online. API Leaders through your local support group, or a resource leader contact, would be happy to listen to your birth story. Some API Support Groups host special meetings specifically for women to share their birth stories. If you’d like to be more personal, write your story in a journal or on your computer where no one else can see it but yourself. Tell your story to a trusted, impartial friend or family member.

Only share what you feel like sharing, and don’t feel pressure to share all of it at once. Many women develop their stories, or parts of their stories, over time. They may remember points of their births that they hadn’t before, or are able to see it in a different perspective. You can start by writing about your pregnancy and work slowly forward in your story, or you can start at your recovery and work slowly backward. For some women, the story just falls together on its own from start to finish. For others, the story comes in little bits and may jump around.

KMom shares that it’s not enough to tell a birth story only once, that retelling it many times with different focuses is needed to be able to start processing the emotions that come with it. Lynn Madsen, author of Rebounding from Childbirth, suggests writing the birth story in two layers, resting between the layers to give time to reflect:

  1. Write down the concrete details you can remember: who, what, where, when, the sensory details, etc.
  2. Write down what was going on inside of you: where was your mind, were you aware of the baby, what did you say to yourself, how were you feeling, etc.

It is in this second layer of your birth story that you will begin facing and processing the disappointment, fear, guilt, and other emotions surrounding your birth experience. This is daunting work for most people, as KMom explains: “Some of the hardest work you will do is accessing your deepest feelings about your child’s birth.  Often, it is very difficult to do this.  People don’t like to go through pain, and facing unpleasant or difficult feelings is painful.  Feelings about birth tend to be very intense, especially the deeper you go.  Often they bring up life issues which can be even more intense.”

“It is completely normal to wish to avoid pain, but if you suppress your feelings and don’t really feel them fully, they become stronger.  Often they will present in your life again and again, each time stronger and more insistent, and sometimes in more destructive ways.  Although facing the feelings may be very difficult or feel very threatening, in the long run it is what frees you,” she continues.

Some women feel they don’t need to deal with their emotions because the experience is behind them, or because their experiences may not be as traumatic as someone else’s. But Madsen explains: “Every feeling about birth matters, no matter how long that feelings lasts, no matter how unreasonable, irrational, or out of proportion it seems.  Any feeling, no matter how strong, is easier to live with once it is named. …A woman may believe she is going to die as the feeling rolls through her, but she won’t.  The trick is to sit with the feeling until this intensity, this sensation of death passes, and light is perceived at the end of the tunnel.”

Telling the birth story, and working through the emotions surrounding a disappointing birth, is essential before a woman decides to have another baby. It is also important for women who are certain they are done having children, because their emotions may be clouding their judgment. Even if a woman is past her childbearing years, naming these emotions and working through them is needed for closure, or else, these emotions will return over and over again throughout their lives at different points and in different situations, until they are finally resolved in some way.

Get the Most Benefit Out of Your Birth Story

In developing your birth story, KMom gives several helpful tips to more fully understand the emotions you may be feeling:

  • Learn exactly what happens during the procedure you went through, whether it was a Cesarean, episiotomy, or another intervention. Search for an article on the Internet, or watch a video. Realize that you’ll likely find this distressing at first, but it really does help you to understand your emotions if you know what physically happened to you.
  • Request a copy of your medical records. Find out what really happened during your birth experience and the reasons for the interventions.  You need to understand the complexities of what happened and if there was anything you could’ve done to prevent what happened. You may feel anger and sadness as you read through your records, especially if you find unkind remarks or misinterpretations by your provider, but you can discover a lot of the behind-the-scenes reasons for why your labor and childbirth went the direction that it did.
  • Listen to your partner’s view of the birth and discuss it. Your partner’s version may be different than yours, and he may be able to offer insight. Realize that he may be working through his own emotional healing process, so understand if he is reluctant or if he tells his story in a brief way that lacks a lot of emotion and details, and ask probing questions gently.
  • Activate your anger. Unexpressed anger can destroy a person, but expressed anger opens up the healing process. It doesn’t matter whether you feel its reasonable anger or not. Women often feel angry at their health care providers or their spouses, but they can be angry toward anyone. But many women also don’t want to acknowledge that they’re angry. A good way to vent your anger is to write a letter addressed to the person with whom you’re angry – although you won’t send it – and let your anger erupt or pour out over the page.
  • Express emotions through the arts. Draw, paint, sing, write a poem, create a sculpture, even out of play dough, or write a children’s story from your baby’s point of view – do whatever your creative tendency is.
  • Acknowledge the emotional power of anniversaries. Your baby’s conception, expected due date, birthday, and other anniversaries can be both joyful times for you as well as times that bring about hard feelings toward your birth experience. Allow yourself to grieve during these anniversaries, which paradoxically, will allow you to work through the feelings and then enjoy the celebration. Otherwise, you’ll spend the day concentrating on your grief instead.
  • Share your experience with others who understand. Join a support group or seek out a mentor, such as through the International Cesarean Awareness Network, ICAN-Online.org; Sidelines National High Risk Pregnancy Support Network, Sidelines.org; Birth Trauma Association, BirthTraumaAssociation.org.uk; SOLACE, SolaceForMothers.org; and Birthrites: Healing After Cesarean, Birthrites.org. Find support through the API Forum or at a local API Support Group. Talk with a trusted friend, listen to or read other women’s birth stories, or especially if your birth was traumatic, seek out professional counseling with a therapist who specializes in birth issues.
  • Reframe the experience to focus on the positive — and on your baby. Give yourself credit for your courage and emotional strength. Think about the positive reinforcement you would give to another woman in your situation. Focus on the aspects of your birth where you did well, and give yourself credit for being mature enough to work through your emotions and to use the experience as a time for personal growth. Remember that you made the choices you made at the time because you believed them to be the best for your baby.
  • Practice self forgiveness. Forgive yourself for your choices, whether it was going along with whatever the doctor said or whatever it is that is making you angry. Tell yourself that you did the best with the knowledge that you had at the time, because that is truly the best that anyone can do.
  • Rewrite your birth in the way you wanted it to go. This is a very effective way to heal, but should be done only after you have written the birth story as it has gone and you have learned as much as you can about how the birth really went, which means looking at your medical records. Recreate your birth story with as much or as little detail as you want. Also, some women may need to rewrite their birth story over and over in order to feel a complete emotional release.
  • Tell your birth story to your child. When you’re ready, hold your child while he is asleep and whisper to him first your birth story and then your recreated birth story, what you wished had been different. Some women feel more comfortable practicing this exercise first without their child present, or by holding their child’s favorite toy, to first release strong emotions like sorrow and rage. This is especially true if there is any anger felt toward the child.
  • Create ceremonies. Some women gather friends together for a birth storytelling circle. Others write their birth stories or letters to those they are angry with and then burn the paper. Some have placental burials, affirmation declarations, or other rituals where they can either give themselves positive reinforcement or express anger in a healthy way toward others.
  • Find activities that help release your emotions, tension, and stress. Exercise, good nutrition, mediation, and massage are especially helpful, as are your hobbies or even chores if you are able to channel your strong emotions into them.

Healing is Possible

When a woman is in the midst of feeling the emotional trauma from a disappointing birth experience, it can seem like her former, happy self has gone away forever and a depressed, angry person has taken place. Healing takes time and effort, but it is well worth it in the end. Unhealed emotions from a traumatic birth experience can take their toll not only on the relationships within a family, but also on the future children (or decision whether to have more children) and on the woman.

Sharing your story through an API Support Group, the API Forum, or by submission to The Attached Family online “Birth Stories” section can be a great start to healing through your birth story – as well as helping others heal from their traumatic births.

In her Plus-Size-Pregnancy.org article, KMom explains: “Reading other women’s stories of recovery after a [traumatic birth] can be very healing.  Sometimes, confronting women’s pain or our own can be distressing, but it is running away from or avoiding the pain that prolongs it. Dealing with the pain when you are ready can be very revealing about general life issues, can help you heal many ways emotionally, and can help you face your fears and prepare for future pregnancies and births.  Remember, ‘The other side of fear is freedom.’”

For More Information

  • Birthing as a Healing Experience by Lois Halzel Freedman
  • Ended Beginnings by Claudia Panuthos & Catherine Romeo
  • Rebounding from Childbirth by Lynn Madsen
  • Silent Knife by Nancy Cohen Wainer & Lois Estner
  • Transformation Through Childbirth by Claudia Panuthos
  • Trust Your Body! Trust Your Baby! by Andrea Frank Henkart