Lost and Found

A huge thank you to Brittany Randolph for sharing her story...

By: Brittany Randolph

Loss. Merriam–Webster describes loss as failure to keep or to continue to have something, the experience of having something taken from you or destroyed. Upon further reading the full definition of loss is described as:

1: destruction, ruin

2: the act of losing possession: deprivation

3: the harm or privation resulting from loss or separation

4: an instance of losing

5: a person or thing or an amount that is lost

To say that you have “lost” a baby doesn’t really begin to tell others the true meaning of what you have lost. When you lose a baby, no matter what trimester it may be in, you feel that failure of your pregnancy to continue, you feel the experience of being utterly destroyed, you feel that harm that is the result of the loss or separation. To others you are simply no longer pregnant.

I myself have suffered through my share of losses. I have experienced an ectopic pregnancy in which I had to choose to save my own life instead of losing both mine and my babies, I have suffered an early second trimester miscarriage, losing all the hopes and dreams that we had started planning for, and I have also suffered 2 early miscarriages, which although they were early on in my pregnancy were no less devastating to my husband and myself. And recently I have finally come to the realization that the child I placed for adoption 13 years ago was a loss. I lost my child that day, although willingly, and knowing it was in her best interest, I still lost my child and the life I dreamt of with her.

With each loss there is a fresh wound, one that does not close all the way and is always slightly open. To others I may have recovered, to others I may show strength and tenacity, the ability to handle these situations and seemingly to have moved on. To my husband and I, the ache and pain never goes away, we are fragile and unsure as we move through the grief on a day to day, then month to month, then moment to moment basis, because that is what finally happens, you move from the minute to minute grief, to the hour to hour, day to day, month to month, and finally that moment to moment grief. The kind of grief where you can function, you can live your “new normal”, and only in moments do you have a grief and loss that cut through you.

During one of my miscarriages I became utterly lost. I didn’t know how to navigate this “new normal” that was my life. I became unsure of everything, angry all the time and so full of sadness and pain that I was afraid I wasn’t going to make it, and I saw that in my husband’s eyes as well. I wondered if our marriage could survive this. I looked for answers, answers to why this happened to me, what I did wrong, and answers to what might have been wrong with me. Was I defective, incapable, incompetent? Maybe it was just like everyone was saying to me” It’s just not meant to be”, “You can always try again”. Although these phrases are well meaning, they do more harm than good. They don’t help, they hurt. So while trying to find the answers I stumbled upon something that might actually help. Something that I wish I had available to me during all of my losses. A bereavement doula. These women are specially trained birth doulas who are certified in loss of pregnancy, regardless of what trimester. Why had I not heard of his before?

After researching bereavement doulas I knew that I found my calling. I needed to be there to help others the way that I had not been helped. Through my loss I had found my calling, after wandering aimlessly, I knew what I was supposed to do. This felt right. Every woman, every family, should have the ability to have access to a bereavement doula if they need one. They offer information, options, choices, the ability to be heard, and the ability to hold the space. This is such an important aspect when it comes to birth or the loss of a pregnancy. The ability to have someone just hold the space for you. I did not have that. I was in the ultrasound room alone, being told that they could no longer find a heartbeat and in the next instant I was being informed they were scheduling me for a D&C the next day, I literally fell out of the office, unable to breathe, no one to comfort me, question upon question as to how and why, and no one to answer. To this day I don’t even know how I made it home from the doctor’s office.

When I had some time to process, finally talk to my husband and let him know our world just fell out from under us, I realized that not only did I not have any questions answered, and not only was my outcome being dictated to me, but I had gotten no sympathy and no compassion. No one to just let me cry and process for a minute so I could ask the questions I needed to ask. A bereavement doula can do that for you. Although they are not medically trained and have no hands on clinical expertise, they have the ability to allow you to ask the questions, to receive the compassion, to have the information to make the decisions for yourself. They have the capacity to hold the space.

Two weeks after I found out my baby no longer had a heartbeat I allowed myself to have the D&C. It was one of the hardest days of my life, next to finding out my baby no longer had a heartbeat, knowing that I was losing my baby, that he or she was finally no longer going to be with me, that was something that I thought would kill me. It was so clinical, so unemotional, so cut and dry. I know I needed to do it, I know I made the right decision, I know I got to ultimately decide my outcome... it didn’t make it easier. The doctor insisted that I go under general anesthesia, I refused. She said, “Well it’s like you get to take a nap and wake up and not know what happened”. I’m sorry, I know what happened, I am very aware of it, I will always remember this day, it is one of the worst days of my life. I do remember the one nurse who did show compassion and who actually cried with me, that is what I needed, someone who cared, someone who cried for me, someone who listened for just a minute the story of my baby and the story of my loss. That is what was missing. The feeling, the knowledge that I wasn’t utterly alone, that my baby actually mattered.

As I start on my journey of being a birth doula and a bereavement doula, it is my hope that no one has to be as alone as I was in the doctor’s office that day. It is my hope that no matter what trimester of pregnancy you are in, if you are suffering from a loss, it is still very real to you, and you deserve to have someone there to guide you through. Please know that you are not alone; please know that myself and other bereavement doulas are honored to walk this journey with you, to allow you to grieve, and heal and to hold your space when you seemingly can’t anymore.

Brittany Randolph

Birth & Postpartum Doula

SBD Bereavement Doula

http://www.beyondthebump.biz/

For more information, check out Still Birth Day at http://www.stillbirthday.com/

#miscarriage