The ‘Happy Ending’ Myth – The Hidden Guilt of the Arrival of A Rainbow Baby

I was unsure whether to write this blog for fear of appearing ungrateful, so first I will start off by stating my immense gratitude to be writing this post from my position. I know how incredibly lucky I am to be alive and well, educated and free to express myself; and to do all of this as a MOTHERΒ  to a beautiful little boy who totally rocks my world. I am relentlessly thankful for every moment ( yes, even the *difficult* ones…).

But…

I also wanted to express the complexities of the emotions that occurred when my rainbow baby arrived. I, as I am sure many other people, initially thought that the arrival of my ‘take home baby’ might mark the end of all of the grief I had experienced with recurrent miscarriage. I thought every cuddle, smile and babble would have the power to fade those scars quickly, like some kind of potent emotional vitamin E oil. I thought my son’s birth would be followed by instant happiness and joy, only.

But after his birth and even well into the fourth trimester and beyond, the misery and heartache of recurrent pregnancy loss did not just disappear, much to the surprise of some (including myself at first).

 

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The more I have really engrossed myself into the global communities of fertility and baby loss, the more I hear many speak of the arrival of ‘take home babies’ as though it is the end of an infertility or miscarriage journey. Well it may be surprising for some to hear that whilst this may be the case be for some, for me at least, it wasn’t. It still isn’t.

It was actually he start of a whole new subset of emotions… Sadness because of the losses. Anger because it took so long for this to happen. Joy because your baby has arrived safely. Guilt because you know how privileged you are to be in this position.

 

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A few people may wonder wonder why I am still here, writing this blog, attending fertility meetings, starting a podcast on pregnancy loss. I have also wondered too… I have deeply explored my personal motivations and reasons for this whole thing time and time again. Is this just a painfully narcissistic form of catharsis?

Well, the conclusion is that I still care. I care about what happened to me. I care about what is happening to others currently. I care about what should be happening in the future.

I don’t want to feel as though I should be silenced because I am lucky enough to have my son and have had a ‘happy ending’. The truth is that this point in time does not feel like the ‘end’ at all… It feels more like the beginning.

Xx

 

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