Why is it when you get a handful of moms together that the conversation so often turns to birth experience?
Why does this have to be?
If I hadn’t lost my baby, I would love talking about birth. But among new friends I cannot talk about my first birth and my second birth when they see me there with only one child. I do not want to tell them that my baby died. I just want to talk about his birth…because that is a very big piece of what little I have of him and I want to talk about his birth and share my experiences too.
And women are compelled…even among good friends, who all know how I lost River, the conversation passionately turns to birthing experience, and then, I wish, and I feel, like they should know better. I mean, how insensitive is that? One of your best friends gushing over the new birth of another friend’s baby and pressing about how wonderful birth is??? I mean, isn’t that over the top? And am I really here right now? Being subjected to this conversation? When you all know… that birth is not wonderful for me…
I have felt that I must be silent, forever, every time the subject of birth arises among women. Both among women I know, and women I don’t, alike. I will have to stand in silence, holding back my thoughts and feelings. I know, because I have tried to talk about his birth, among friends, as if, there was no elephant in the room. But it doesn’t work.
I will never be able to share my birth stories without something missing, and not just something, but, the love of my life, my baby, my son.
I will never be able to share like one of these other women. To share fully of my birth experience without the filter of loss…I will never be able to just share my birth experiences.
And why does it have to be that way when you get mothers together…?
Birthing, is profound. A profound and singular experience, birth. And that those midwives took that away from me and my son – took away my profound happiness, my profound motherhood – and left me instead a profound loss beyond imagine…
I must somehow communicate the magnitude of the profundity, somehow communicate the magnitude of profound loss… Birth is profound, and to lose your child and have to birth him into the world and not have him – not be able to keep him – is unspeakable.
You cannot imagine.