Share Your Story to Help Others Heal
Sometimes it still hurts, even 16 years later. The feeling of loss and longing never really goes away. Sure, it comes in waves and the waves become less often, but the hole in my heart that remains seems to be there permanently. It is almost as though there is a puzzle piece of my heart missing and it is impossible to find the exact match to fit that exact shape.
In chiropractic school, I was pregnant with twins. My water broke at 23 weeks gestation, at my dear friend’s wedding, and the hospital bed is where I landed. I sat in that bed for six nights until contractions started. Labor was intense and delivery was quick. The twins lived for a half hour and I held them until their heartbeat no longer pulsed through their umbilical cords. It was the hardest thing I had ever experienced. Ever. For years it was impossible to speak about the experience. After a little bit of time, I could talk about it only when I was expecting to. Then, many years later, it became okay inside of myself to share it unexpectedly. It was only very recently that I felt comfortable sharing it loudly. Time helps to heal, but never fully takes the pain away completely.
That night changed my life forever, in many ways. After the heavy grief began to subside, my perspective changed so significantly, both personally and professionally. Personally, I had more appreciation for life in general; appreciation for every breath I was able to take. I no longer had time to sweat the small stuff. I no longer had time for drama. I was almost a completely different person. Professionally, I kind of always knew that I was destined to be a chiropractor. Growing up the daughter of a chiropractor, I thought that being a doctor was cool, and as I got older, I had a sense of purpose in helping others heal with my own hands. However, losing the twins made me realize just how precious this life we have been given truly is. I realized that I had a new purpose on this earth—to use the most of the moments I have been given to make a difference in the world.
It has been referred to as a divine assignment or a calling, and sometimes it is not easy, but it cannot be ignored. Serendipitous moments appear often; moments where I feel as though I am in the right place at the exact right time. Just last week, a patient sat in front of me and told me that she is no longer pregnant; she had just experienced a miscarriage. She began to cry and tell her story of the loss of her baby. In that moment, I felt as though a bandage ripped off that part of my heart that was still broken. Bittersweet would be the best word to describe the feeling that came next. In that moment of sadness, I was able, more than ever, to appreciate the opportunity to be able to relate to that patient and use my story to potentially aid in her healing journey.
Other serendipitous moments include opportunities to share my birthing stories with patients and with other women in my community. Because of the experience with the twins, I felt an extreme hesitation of the birth process when I became pregnant again, so I chose a hospital birth.
It was the hardest thing I had ever experienced. Ever. For years it was impossible to speak about the experience. After a little bit of time, I could talk about it only when I was expecting to. Then, many years later, it became okay inside of myself to share it unexpectedly.
This hospital birth included an induction and an epidural. She was born with the cord significantly around her neck, her skin was blueish-gray, and she wasn’t breathing. My husband and my mother went with her to a different room as they waited for the rest of the birthing process to finish.
The next time I had a baby, many complications were present so she was born via cesarean section, again in the hospital. She came out as cute and as pink as I could imagine. I felt peace about the fact that she was just fine, which trumped the negativity of having to have surgery for her arrival. However, I knew for sure, one hundred percent, that there was no way, no chance, that I would ever do that again. So, the last time I was blessed to birth a baby, I had her naturally at home in a pool, as a VBAC. I tell you what —if I were to ever have another child, that is what I would choose. Being able to experience different birthing processes, and in the end being able to birth without fear, the way we were made, felt exactly as birth was intended.
Now, often in practice, I encounter mothers-to-be in all stages of life, with all different experiences. It is such a lovely thing to be able to share my experience of homebirth and hospital birth to empower them. Emotions and feelings make us more relatable to patients. We all have unique experiences, good and bad, which allow us to better connect to others. When our connection is strong and undeniable, innate allows for the best adjustment and the best healing for the patient. So don’t be afraid to share those tender pieces of your journey with others. Living each day as our authentic selves, using our own stories, may just be the way to do our best work.
