Back in February I had just arrived at the studio and was unrolling mats ready for my lunchtime class.
I was feeling foggy-headed and tired but secretly enjoying it - any pregnancy symptom at this early stage in my mind is a sign that everything is progressing well right?
A week before I had found out that I was pregnant. We had only just stopped stopping another baby from happening, so we were a little surprised, trying not to get too attached to the idea, but of course so happy with the idea of moving from a team of three to a team of four.
As everyone started to arrive I started to feel a little cramping but thought nothing about it - just before I started the class I popped to the loo and saw blood.
For a moment my heart sank…I can’t teach right now…I know exactly what is happening…this has happened before… I’m fine… it's no big deal… teach the class and move on.
I continued to work throughout the day, attending a meeting, bleeding through all my clothes en route to the next and having to cancel, but then still teaching a dynamic class in the evening. The pain and the bleeding got worse, but I simply could not, would not listen. Ten minutes before the close of my evening class, the cramping cranked up a notch and realised my trousers were completely sodden with blood, in moments I began to hear audible drips onto the concrete floor. The mat, a blanket and the floor where I stood was a clear message from my body. "How much more must we shout at you…go rest, go cry, go hug your husband, just not this. Will you listen now?”
A kind student tidied and locked up the studio for me and the bleeding continued to get heavier. I became shaky and began to feel the armour crumbling around me. I called my big sister, an oracle of life knowledge, calm wisdom and general awesomeness and she urged me to drive myself to A&E.
Before having my daughter I had three early miscarriages. Each time they happened my hope, morale and resilience was chipped away a little more. But then I got pregnant and had Ula and made no time to grieve about the past…I had got what I wanted, felt I should be grateful for that and now it was time to look forward.
You see losing a pregnancy is not just about losing a baby or the future that had begun to unfold in front of you. For some it’s a relief, for some it’s complicated and for others, it's heartbreaking. However you receive this situation, for most, it is still a visceral, stark and sometimes lonely experience even when you’re surrounded by love and support.
As 1 in 5 pregnancies end in miscarriage we are expected to move on pretty quickly… pop a heavy pad on, have an early night and a bath, take some pain killers and off to work we go.
This is what I did.
As women, we tend to be very good at being practical. Being ‘fine’. Cracking on and not making a fuss.
In a bid to empower women to stop this… beloved reader, whether you have been impacted by miscarriage or loss you will be connected to someone who has, so please read on, share this with others.
Grieving miscarriage is a funny old thing and to be honest, I don’t think I had ever really acknowledged my experience of miscarriage as grief until recently. I’ve never lost anyone close to me in adult life and so I almost didn’t write this post for fear of not feeling quite “qualified in grief” enough to articulate my experience. But of course it was grief... and in the hope that it might resonate for some of you and urge anyone who experiences anything like this to know…
It is ok to not be ok, your pain is valid and it doesn’t need to be of a certain level of pain to seek support if you feel you need it. If you need support, find it. Tears can only be held back so long. Allow space for them to fall, this helps us soften and in turn learn much more greatly and openly from this experience.
After miscarrying in February I quickly went into what I like to call “Practical Hannah Mode”. I worked harder and for longer hours. I was getting up earlier and earlier to fit in my many tasks but was, getting very little done and finding it hard to concentrate on anything at all. My edges had hardened, I was anxious, on edge and as much as I wanted to think I was, I was not "on a roll", I was running headfirst in a hamster wheel and distancing myself from loved ones more every day. I sensed this was not a sustainable way to be, but at that moment, it was the only way I could be.
The only relief and grounding I felt, was in mindful moments of being with my daughter.
It was when I began having flashbacks of that evening that it was time to explain to my partner I needed help and that I was utterly exhausted … he sighed so much relief and I cried the most satisfying and relieving tears.
So what was I experiencing? Before Ula arriving, each time the pregnancy ended, I became more and more sure that I would never be able to have a baby and I felt the loss of that future with a baby each time. With every discovery of bleeding, I would ride out the cramps, tell myself that this is just how it is and each time I had never allowed myself space to simply be sad about it. It’s ok to be sad about it - however common it is, however early on it was, however much or little you thought you wanted a baby. This should not take away any right to feel that sadness. And this goes for our partners too. My husband has now ridden this wave of experience 5 times if we include Ula sticking around and gracing us with her presence four years ago. He felt it, massively, through his own disappointment and pain of seeing his partner struggle, harden and even if for just a brief time, lose a little of herself.
But this time it was different, I didn't feel sad about losing the future with this potential of a new baby. Since having Ula, the love and respect I have cultivated through committed self-practice and development meant that my world was rocked in fact by my lack of compassion I had shown to myself despite so much work I have done! I had now not honoured my sadness or my worth and had missed yet another opportunity to grow from these experiences.
So this is what I am doing now. It has taken me nearly 6 months to go through the process of “practical Hannah”, seeking therapeutic support, calming and nourishing my body my rhythms could resume, speaking to others about it and now feeling like I can write about it. Each week I tune and explore how I'm feeling, look at how I am approaching all areas of my life, asking "Is this choice coming from a place of respect for myself?" "Am I tired?" "What can move or simply be let go of this week to create some more space to rest and reflect?" "What is causing me stress and why?" "Do I feel sad/disconnected/overwhelmed/lonely? What support do I need?"
It is a process of re-softening my edges…
Not everyone will have this experience. It may be a short-lived recovery or much much longer. The point is…I spoke to one of my best friends last week and she too experienced a miscarriage this year. She spoke of sharing the news and seeking support from friends that hadn’t experienced it before. “People don’t know what to do with you if they haven’t had a miscarriage before…almost like…ok, thanks for telling me.. are you ok? It’s just like having a heavy period right?”
Six months on and I am feeling well and grateful that it has brought so much light to an area of my past that I can no longer sweep under the mat. I am ready to compassionately learn from both the experiences and how I responded to each one.
Through yoga, journaling, movement, breathwork, reflection, journaling and meditation …and the many incredible modalities available to us, we can begin to know ourselves deeply and compassionately. We all have our habits, thought grooves, fears and pain - lets lean into these without judgement and see how they have played out in our lives so far and perhaps how we might move forward without them keeping us in loops of less helpful behaviour and responses when we hit these bumps in the road.
I work with so many clients who, when they find me, are ready to move beyond these old grooves… if you are feeling stuck and are ready to move forward with new tools, mindset and your wellbeing as a priority then perhaps we should explore working together.
To get in touch and explore if Holistic Life Coaching is for you, click here….