Something Beautiful

“Miscarriage“, clay, Lynne Atherton (my mother) after miscarriage in the 1970’s, posted with permission

October is Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness month and because of that, I was approached by some women to facilitate a mother’s group in honor of “Rainbow Babies”; babies who die either through miscarriage or in infancy.

The group was looking for a way to honor some of their members that have experienced pregnancy loss.  As a grief counselor, a group facilitator and someone who is diving deep into the pregnancy and birthing world, it was an instant “yes” for me.  And…what the women did not know, is that I, too, had experienced pregnancy loss.

Speaking the Unspeakable 

I felt honored to be part of this event.  I also felt nervous – not about the topic, but about “getting it right.”  Could I hold a container that made it safe to share, would the Mamas feel honored?  Pregnancy loss is a subject that can (and does) bring up a lot of feelings.  Grief, guilt, and even shame may keep people silent and isolated.  The societal taboo about child loss also limits opportunities for sharing and healing.  Family and friends may feel scared to say the wrong thing so they say nothing at all.  Other families, new in their pregnancy journeys, may want to avoid the subject all together because it is too close to home.

In preparation for this special night, I reflected back on my own miscarriage so many years ago.  I never speak about it.  I didn’t share with friends at the time.  I went through it alone, silently mourning the passing, as I cried in the shower, knowing the embryo was passing.  The memories are vivid yet I unconsciously internalized the message to keep it to myself.  I’m sure my story is news to the closest of my friends.

Black Belt Bravery 

When we gathered for the evening, there were 12 Mamas and myself.  Instead of creating a “safe space” I invited us all to step into “Brave Space” where those of us who had experienced pregnancy loss would have the option to share their stories if they felt called.  The women who hadn’t experienced loss willingly sat in circle to bear witness to their sisters and listen with compassion. 

Exactly half of the women shared about their pregnancy loss; individual stories with a common theme of loss, kept quietly inside.  As expected, there were tears.  There were hugs, smiles…kindness.  There was also laughter.   The Brave Space that was created was larger than anything I facilitated.  I marveled at the power of groups.  The wisdom of these women to know when to offer a touch on the shoulder, to cry together, to shake heads at the occasional insensitivity of medical professionals.   There were deep grounding breaths.  A common theme of resilience emerged as well as relief – in telling the story and feeling heard, sharing the weight and feeling lighter.  In the midst of this, one woman, after sharing her story of multiple losses, shared that she is pregnant again.  The eternal cycles of Death and Life spiraling around us.

Empowering and Inspiring

At the end of the evening, the group co-created a mandala.  The creating of a mandala honors life’s impermanence and simultaneously marks the transformation of suffering into a thing of beauty.  As we stood in a circle around the mandala, arms around each other, one of the Mamas said “How can we bring this to others?” echoing something I had been feeling all night.  The revolutionary power of speaking out loud about something that has resided so deeply inside.  The cathartic power of speaking one’s story;  of feeling heard, witnessed and held.   And the binding power of connection and intimacy through vulnerably sharing with one another.  

Pass It On

I have created a blueprint of our special evening and if you would like to speak more with me about offering this to other women’s groups, please reach out.  I would love to see this healing practice spread.