Mama Mondays | Navigating Motherhood After a Loss
Allison Gammel
You know those long, exhausting days that annoy you so badly that you count down the minutes until you get to go to sleep so it can be over and tomorrow can be better? Try feeling that way for an entire year. That was my 2013, and it was epically bad for so many reasons—primarily losing our little one’s heartbeat 18 weeks 5 days into pregnancy.
Since this is post about everything that’s happened since that moment, the long version of our story, including the thoughts, prayers, and reactions to everything in real time, can be read HERE.
If you’re a mom reading this and you don’t have time for that (because most of us don’t!) here is the Cliff’s Notes version:
In August of 2013, at 13-and-a-half weeks pregnant, we found out the baby had a chromosomal abnormality. Ten days later we learned it was Trisomy 18 and that most likely we wouldn’t carry to term. I was DEATHLY ill so we wrestled with the idea of ending the pregnancy for my health’s sake. In the end, I couldn’t play God so I endured the nausea and vomiting and carried the baby as long as I was called to do. Deacon Isaiah Gammel went back to heaven one day before we would have reached 19 weeks.
Let’s pick up here shall we.
I went through this big life event with hardly anyone to talk to since I was completely across the country from my family and friends. My friends didn’t know what to say or how to comfort me in my sadness, leading to even deeper sadness, which, you guessed it, pushed them further away. It became a vicious cycle. So instead, my friends became anger (why my baby?), jealousy (14 bazillion people I knew were pregnant), and sorrow (endless tears I felt guilty for crying as if it was a sign of weakness). I fell into full-blown post-partum depression for a couple of months, but thanks to a trusted, patient friend, who just happens to be a counselor; I was able to fight my way out.
In the midst of all this, we found out my husband had reached his career goal and we would be staying to live in the Phoenix/North Scottsdale area. I had to suck up my desire to be close to home and follow the head of our family out west, trusting it was for a reason I couldn’t see.
The first month in our new home, we conceived a new baby. But, here’s was happens when you miscarry before a healthy pregnancy—it breeds FEAR. Fear that you won’t ever get pregnant again, fear that will history will repeat itself, or fear that something new will be wrong. For some it’s brief thoughts that don’t linger too long and for others it’s uneasiness that lasts until the baby is in your arms. Even as we passed various tests and ultrasounds with positive results saying everything looked healthy, I still struggled with worry and anxiety. Not that every parent doesn’t worry about the health of their unborn child, but I do believe that if someone miscarries several times early on, or those who struggle for years with infertility, or who have had a still born, or lose a young infant, do battle against trepidation to a different degree. Think Charlotte from Sex and the City and her not wanting to run out of fear something could go wrong.
Our fear was lifted 38 weeks later, when we welcomed baby boy Sutton, whose gender was a surprise, into the world. He was perfectly healthy and an answer to our prayers. With his arrival into our family, I have used my story of loss to influence my life as a mom.
Let’s go back to the opening line about those long, infuriatingly bad days. Can we just talk about how some days we can feel like Supermom and others there aren’t enough cuss words in the world?! On those days, I go back to something I read during my depression that has stuck with me. I remember a friend of mine posting something along the lines of, “The car won’t start, the dryer is broken, and blah blah blah.” All I could think in that moment was, YOU HAVE TWO HEALTHY, BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN! STOP WHINING ABOUT STUPID STUFF! My second thought was,I pray to get back to the day when the trivial things are my biggest problems. And in time, I have. When the baby won’t stop fussing because he’s teething and it’s the cherry on top of the beyond-cluttered house, the broken fridge, and the whole bowl of whatever I just spilled everywhere, I am quickly reminded to put my frustration on the back burner and find thankfulness in the annoyances. I still get frustrated, it’s hard not to in our humanness, but after a little while, my memory of loss and suffering reshapes my outlook.
Most of all, what I went through helps me know what to say to others going through the experience. If your story is one of pregnancy or infant loss, I’m sure you can agree, you know people mean well when they say things like, “Everything happens for a reason…At least you can get pregnant…It will all make sense someday…Time erases pain.” It’s all very true, but in that moment, all you want to hear is, “That sucks. It just does. Want to cry together over bad movies and fattening food?” In the very early moments, words of embracing grief are more comforting than words of hope. Let them be sad, just don’t let them stay there.
I can look back now and recall how just after our miscarriage an acquaintance was telling me how similar his and his wife’s story was to ours. He said after their miscarriage they got pregnant within three months followed by something I will never forget: “It won’t make sense now, but whether you get pregnant again or not, all of this will become part of the path that you are meant to walk. We were blessed enough to have our son and now I can’t imagine any other child but him being mine. If we had that first baby, he wouldn't be here.”
It ended up being the truest statement. Even with the sadness that followed losing a baby, I look down at this little boy in my arms now and I have full confidence that Deacon went back to heaven because Sutton was designed to be here on earth with us. Most of the time, we don't really feel God working in the valleys of life , but His faithfulness is often clear when we look back. And if we hadn’t had another baby, it would have been just as true.
Our journeys to motherhood—be them our own pregnancies or adoption—are individually unique. Embrace yours boldly. Hug your children if you are blessed to have them. If you don’t, know your story is still unfolding. Keep the faith. You'll get back to the basic 'bad' days most of us have before you know it.
-Allison Gammel
XOXO
