As we all know, certain events in our lives take us into a wide range of emotions all at once. Some people are very good at showing or expressing all their emotions whether it is by talking about it or through their body language. Others are good at burying some of their emotions and only bringing out the emotions they find most appropriate or acceptable, while still others keep their emotions so well hidden that they are down right indecipherable.
I'm not too sure in which category people would place me in general, but presently as we walk through this difficult and unknown journey, I am fairly certain I am definitely not good at making my feelings obvious. I know this because I have in a way sort of shut myself off and isolated myself...not intentionally...but it sort of just happened instinctively in a way that sometimes I can't understand it myself.
I am in no way trying to deceive anyone, but the raging emotions that tug me from one extreme to the other makes it hard to truly express how I really am doing. I have to admit that it is quite a burden to carry - I mean having to "let others in" - on top of the weight that I am already carrying in making sense of and understanding my current reality. To be honest, sometimes I just wish people would just "get it" and automatically know how to deal with, approach and interact with me...but I know that it is selfish wishful-thinking. Also, I find it equally burdensome to have to be the one responsible for others' emotional reaction - or lack thereof - upon hearing of our tragic circumstances.
This is in no way "a rant" about how I think others should treat me, so please do not misunderstand me. I know our loved ones - family, friends, and even acquaintances - feel our pain but feel equally awkward and helpless as to how to comfort us...This is actually my way of apologising and trying to explain my behaviour which may puzzle some, especially family who I sometimes find it more difficult to speak to, or friends nearby whom I haven't been able to meet up with...I guess it's a subconscious defensive mechanism I'm employing because deep down I do crave understanding, support, and love...
Recently I read a blog post about grief by a mother going through some painful things in her own life, and she mentioned how sometimes Christians tend to isolate ourselves and "hoard our grief" instead of sharing it with the body of Christ, and thus making it our god. This of course also applies to non-Christians who may find it difficult to open up about their pain. I agree with her whole heartedly, but I think that there is a time and a way to share the grief. People who are grieving need to be given space, time, and the opportunity to feel the pain in their own terms even if it means isolating themselves for a short while, without being judged by others as being "ungodly", "faithless", or the like. So perhaps that's where I'm at: needing time...
More importantly though, one huge thing that I discovered about grief, while listening to a podcast on the subject by another lady sharing about the lessons she has learned after losing two young children of her own, is that joy and grief can co-exist. Wow! How liberating it was for me to hear those words! Just because I feel joyful about certain aspects in my life doesn't mean I'm not grieving over other painful ones, and just because I am grieving over a loss of something or someone, doesn't mean I can't be joyful about the blessings in my life.
As you may have noticed through the pictures and blurbs I post on social network media, my heart beams with delight and contentment when I am with Eleanor. God has been sustaining me and I've been finding joy in the ordinary, everyday things as I watch Eleanor burst with energy and love of life on a daily basis. That is what's most visible on the surface, though. Sometimes my heart is in turmoil and some nights I am not able to rest, especially on days after our visits to the hospital - which have been more frequent due to further concerns with Eve's heart and overall conditions of being further along in the pregnancy at around 30 weeks.
So today is a good start in letting all of you "in", beyond the surface. There are many layers of emotions, feelings and thoughts, but the following excerpt from a prenatal diagnosis support website (www.pdsaustralia.org) sheds some light into what's at the centre driving my emotions and behaviour at present.
Finding out your baby has a condition
Finding out that your unborn child may have a serious or life-threatening condition may come as a shock to say the least. If you are not in the high-risk category, the shock may be even greater. Many of the parents who receive such terrible news every year are relatively healthy parents between 20 and 30 years old, living a wholesome lifestyle, many of whom have had other perfectly healthy children before receiving this diagnosis.
The parents who provided their testimonies explained they felt as if they had been thrown into a world they assumed belonged ‘only for others’. What should have been one of the happiest moments of their lives had turned into a shattered dream.
In order for parents and the community to make sense of the intense feelings that may follow such a diagnosis, it would be helpful to learn about, pregnancy attachment theory. Kennel and Klaus (1976) described nine steps that occur in pregnancy to explain human attachment. Understanding that most of these steps occur even before the birth of the baby can help us to acknowledge the grief issues that accompany the premature death of an infant or the loss of the healthy child that we had in mind.
• Planning the pregnancy
• Confirming the pregnancy
• Accepting the pregnancy
• Feeling foetal movement
• Accepting the foetus as a person
• Giving birth
• Hearing and seeing the infant
• Touching and holding the infant
• Caring for the infant
The first five steps occur before or around 20 weeks of gestation, which is currently about the time that most parents discover that their child has an abnormality. Most parents have already made plans, named their child, announced the pregnancy to their family and friends and imagined their life with the new baby by that time. Sometimes the child has a condition that is not lifethreatening but involves a lifetime of special care and special needs.
How can parents be expected simply to forget, and to make vital decisions involving the life and death of their child in just a few days? Many parents have described feeling an awkward sensation of grief while their child was still healthy in the womb, while others even felt guilty and didn’t understand why they would grieve for someone who was still alive and / or a child that would live. This is called anticipatory grief.
Indeed, your child is still kicking and is seen as ‘normal’ but you know that this will come to an end. You may be anticipating the next few months and starting to experience grief-like symptoms (Geldard, 1989).
These may be:
• Emotional (sadness, anger, depression);
• Mental (preoccupation with thoughts of the baby, fantasies, fear of going crazy);
• Physical (aching, emptiness, lack of strength, palpitations);
• Social (desire to be left alone, problems communicating, difficulty planning
the future).
Although parents experience one primary loss in losing their baby or their dream baby as they imagined him or her, they in fact experience multiple ‘secondary’ losses (loss of their ideals, loss of hope, loss of their family, loss of innocence, loss of security, to name just a few). The pattern for many parents is the same as the one they will experience after the birth of their child; they go through stages of grief. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross (1969) identified five distinct stages of the grieving process: denial, anger, bargaining, letting go and acceptance.
Research has shown that it is possible to go through those stages in any order or to go back and forth between stages. It is also imperative to keep in mind that not everyone will reach the acceptance stage.
• Shock (sudden numbness, inability to function normally)
• Denial (disbelieving the diagnosis, trying to find a solution)
• Guilt (the parents may wonder what they did, perhaps ate or drank, to make their baby sick)
• Anger (parents may be angry with the medical staff for what they did or did not do, or with friends for smoking in front of the pregnant mother etc.)
• Acceptance (the parents may come to terms with the diagnosis, decide about the funeral or special care the child will need).
‘Anticipatory grief is more than just pre-death grief symptoms over a few months. It is a journey towards the ultimate loss but is composed of many losses of the past, present and future’ (Gilbert, 1996, p. 269).
The problem with diagnosis of long-term or life-threatening disease in unborn children is that the mother may be pregnant enough for others to see it, and questions that would not be asked in the early stages of pregnancy will now arise from all sides. The questions that many people will ask are about the mother's due date, the sex or name of the baby and how happy the family is; these can be heart-breaking conversations for a parent who knows the baby will die shortly after birth or has a severe condition.
Yes, we are grieving but we haven't given up. We have put our faith, trust, and hope in the Lord for whatever may be in the books for us. Thank you ALL for walking with us and praying for us. We find great strength from the love notes and messages you send us. Our hearts are truly warmed...
