Society

The Hierophant - Society's Lack of Support

There is no grave, no place to visit. Mourning at all is not allowed when you lose a baby before you are 20 weeks pregnant.

As a woman, I'm expected to be ashamed enough of my miscarriage to not voice my grief. It's right up there with menstrual cycles as a topic to avoid. If you grieve visibly, you are made to feel that you are not right in the head - especially when some time has lapsed. The only support available comes in the form of pills, antidepressants. The message we who mourn our angel babies are given is that we should suppress our grief.

If I ever doubted that we live in patriarchy, I know now that I have miscarried at 15 weeks.

We are dealing with something numinous here - something beyond the realm of the patriarchal Hierophant. We are dealing with the bond between a mother and the life that grows inside her when she is pregnant. This bond can be just as deep as with a child who has been welcomed into society but because this child has not passed through the hands of the Hierophant for his blessing, there should be no mention of it.

Well, I'm here to remind you...

Once upon a time...

The Magician - Telling My Story

...in the month of Libra, a woman who was not quite young, nor a first-time mother, learned that she had fallen pregnant. Even though it wasn't planned, she was the happiest woman on earth the day she learned she was pregnant because the child she carried was a love child. Such was the love this woman had for the father of her baby that she adored him completely and suffered deeply when they were separated.

They did not have much but they had each other and they vowed to inspire each other to succeed. He was an musician and she was a poet.. This child would have been born on a wave of poetry and music into humble material circumstances but utterly and completely loved.

He seemed happy at the thought of becoming a father but the woman had a dream about three weeks into the pregnancy. Her beloved had written in big letters on a brick wall that he was not ready to be a father - he had to go abroad. She told him about the dream the next morning. He said nothing and she did all she could to forget all about it.

The pregnancy progressed well and the morning sickness subsided. Plans were put in motion to welcome the baby to this planet. Practicalities were considered. Finances were juggled and there was talk of marriage. Together they found the perfect ring which she hoped he would get when he could afford it. Not that there was any rush... She had perfect faith in his love for her and envisioned herself growing old together with him. They didn't have much but they had a tender budding hope. It got to the time for the 12 week scan and both parents-to-be were starting to get excited.

Watching the monitor expectantly, the woman instantly saw that there was something wrong with the little life that grew inside her. There was a 'bubble' on the baby's neck and she knew from the depths of her that this little one would not make it. Yet she clung to hope and prayed for a miracle with all her being. They both did. They struggled to get through Christmas and New Year's together and ended up spending both in hospital on account of more tests and scans.

All they knew was that something was terribly wrong and waiting for the diagnosis was the most difficult thing they'd both had to endure. Tempers got frayed. Finances were strained. New lows were reached all around. Had life not been hard enough for both of them aldready? Yet the woman clung to the fact that they still had each other and believed with all her heart that if they could only talk about it all together, they would make it through this. Surely, communication was the key to healing?

The diagnosis was delivered over the phone one day when the woman was out shopping. She demanded to know the truth straight away even though the doctor advised her to go home and sit down. She told the doctor she wouldn't make it home unless she could find out the results. Unfortunately, it was the worst possible kind of news a mother-to-be can ever receive. She was told that her baby hade a serious genetic disorder which makes the fetus less than 'compatible with life.' Some of these little onese make it to live birth but most of those die within the first 24 hours. They are in agony from their first breath until their last.

At their next hospital visit, the fetal specialist told the couple all there is to know about "Edward's syndrome" and that they had the option to terminate. Even so, the woman couldn't make herself go through with killing this fragile life growing inside her so she started to pray. With all her might she prayed that choice be taken away from her. They went for the final scan and was told by the doctor that they had mercifully been spared having to make a decision - the baby's heart had stopped.

An evacuation was scheduled but the woman started bleeding the night before and was afraid of miscarrying at home. The couple drove to the hospital in a sombre mood that cold January night. All the while, the woman kept telling herself it would soon be over. She was bracing herself bravely for all kinds of pain and took comfort that her beloved was by her side - with him by her side she could face anything.

Early in the morning the next day, the woman gave birth to the angel baby, a beautiful little girl. The couple spent some time with her before the midwife carried the tiny baby away on a white lace cushion. There was to be no memorial service, no grave to visit... The goodbye was oh so very final. However, the woman was starting to get lightheaded from blood loss by now and was almost beyond caring. She could feel the life force slip out of her and she welcomed it. She wanted to go with her little angel.... but it wasn't meant to be.

The blood loss was spotted by the midwife and the woman was rushed to theatre. She started shaking violently in the pre-op area because even though she felt like she wanted to leave the planet and join her angel, she was afraid of not seeing her beloved again. She had much to live for and decided to pull through.

The surgery went well and when she came to she was happy to still be alive. She couldn't wait to see her beloved again. When they left the hospital, the staff were saying how they wished to see the couple back there same time next year but under happier circumstances. They left leaving holding hands and her final words to him before leaving the hospital were 'At least we have each other'....

Little did she know that he was not ready or willing to face the aftermath with her. Little did she know that their days were already counted and that she would be left on her own only days later. Little did she know how this double loss would nearly finish her off.

Now she knows her own strength and just how far her fighting spirit can carry her. Now she knows that the love she has for the baby gives her wings. Now she knows grieving, although slightly muted with time, never truly ends.

"Not compatible with life"

They tell parents who are expecting a baby diagnosed with Edwards Syndrome (T18) that the diagnosis is 'not compatible with life' and if they don't tell you in so many words, they strongly argue for termination regardless.

I never considered my baby 'not compatible with life' - I considered her 'not compatible with death'. Now that she's gone, I consider myself 'compatible with death' though...

I have no clue how to make my way through this grief. I'm lucky I already have children. I should be grateful for what I have. I'm lucky that Willow is no longer suffering. I'm grateful that I never had to make a decision to terminate... Willow quietly slipped away and we found out that her heart had stopped on New Year's Eve. I am grateful that the medical side of things went well... Physically, I'm not suffering... but I feel like I should be. Why do I still have a pulse when hers stopped?

I want to be where my angel is. I miss her so much and I feel so so very empty.

In the real world, people don't want to know about the loss of a child. We are expected to suffer in silence. A dead baby is nobody's business. Without the memories of life, all it does is to remind us of our own mortality - the brevity of our life span... and perhaps about the lack of meaning... or, more accurately, the total nonsense that is the 'meaning' we try to give our lives by making a name for ourselves and gaining approval through our actions in the world.

But I have the memory of holding my very tiny baby in the palm of my hand. I have the memory of meeting her spirit in my dreams. I have heard the voice of her soul and I don't know how to make it stay.... When the placenta wouldn't come out and the blood didn't seem to want to stop gushing out of me, I secretly wished for it to flow until I too could slip away... to be with her, to be spared some of the pain. I'm not proud of it... but I finally know just to what degree death can be mercy now.

I was rushed to theatre for evacuation and it went well - they managed to stop the bleeding. And yes, I was grateful to still be alive when I came out of general anesthesia... I held on to all that was good about life, almost as if someone had reminded me of the reason to live when I was unconscious... the love I share with those still here.

The hospital gave us certificate of her birth. It had her time of birth and it states "Willow, daughter of Lisa and Terry - born silent at 9.28 AM on the 5th of January, 2011." I wanted her ashes but they said she is so small there will be nothing left - she more or less evaporates... So in a sense, she is everywhere. But I already knew that. Everything reminds me of her. Everything.

Grace

Grace wears black sometimes, when she wants us to grow our souls to make room for more love and compassion...

The night before we found out that Willow's heart had stopped beating, I had two dreams. In the first dream, someone had sent me a grief councelling package through the post. It was red with white hearts on and there were baby shoes inside it. Another scene of the same dream hade me lying on a table, shaking with grief, wailing like a mad person.

The day before was one of the most difficult days of my life. I knew we were losing our baby, and amidst all the grief I was taken over by a rage such as I had never known before. It was as if all the pain that every mother had felt since the dawn of time had been poured into me... and I rebelled against it with fire and blind rage. I was Lilith and Kali, and I wanted the world to burn to the ground. I allowed the fires to consume me so that I could be reborn, so that I could rise from the ashes like the phoenix.

It wasn't pretty to behold and my beloved got caught in the firestorm. I was out of control for a while and everything about me was destruction... but the rage only lasted for a few hours because I didn't try to resist or push it down.

The second dream spoke of my animal nature - the instincts that take over when someone or something threatens our offspring. In this dream, my cat was being mauled by a dog. I spotted this from my bedroom window and went outside to try to rescue my cat. The dog then turned on me and started biting me. I woke up mid attack. I instantly knew that this dream represented two aspects of my psyche at war with one another.

The cat is my feminine, instinctual self and the dog is the masculine, logical part of me. As I was faced with the choice to terminate a pregnancy that would only end in suffering the two voices inside me went something like this:

Dog: "Termination is the merciful thing to do. You will prevent much suffering. Don't be so selfish. Think of the kind of suffering these babies are put through. Think of your partner. Remember, you had already discussed the eventuality of what to do if the baby was diagnosed with T18 - don't let your emotions get in the way of doing what is right and humane."

Cat: "Fuck off. Mother Nature knows what She is doing. Stupid dog. Trust your body."

By the time of the dream, the voice of the cat had been silenced by the demise of my baby and there was nothing I could do about it. But in the end, the cat won - Mother Nature had the final word... and I didn't have to make a choice no mother should ever have to be faced with.

Thanks to these two dreams, I was prepared for the results of the final ultrasound scan.

When I woke up in the morning, I prayed for a miracle. I prayed for the decision to be taken away for us by either a miracle of healing or for the baby to go to heaven. Even as I prayed, I knew this was no 'baby soul' but an ancient teacher who had come to grace us with her presence for a spell. I also knew that there would be no healing miracle. I know what they feel like and there was none of that going on.

 Me on New Year's Eve 2010 at 14+1, hours before the final scan

As we were on the way to the hospital, I heard Willow speak. She responded to some thoughts I had about my partner, giving me a more balanced view of what was happening. I don't know how long she will be with me in this way, but I am so very grateful for her presence.

Willow herself gave us her name. This has been confirmed - twice. First my sister told me that she and her partner had decided to plant a willow tree next to a lake, unbeknownst of the fact that 'Beanie' now had a real name. I found out when I rang her up to tell her of the results of the scan. She is going to dedicate this tree to our Willow.

This morning, I found out that a FB friend of mine had only just decided to plant a willow tree too. She said she would think of our Willow when planting it.

Spirit has many ways of making itself manifest. I marvel at the syncronicity here... but I'm not surprised. This is, after all the, same baby girl who appeared to me twice in my dreams already, giving me the sweetest baby kisses... allowing me to know her love for me in a way that surpasses anything I'm able to describe in words... but maybe, if you close your eyes for a moment and allow Willow to come to you... then maybe you will feel her love too.

The past couple of weeks since the 12 week scan have been hell in so many ways, yet I feel so very graced by it all. That doesn't mean that the pain is gone... or that there isn't plenty more to come. I have yet to go to the hospital for induced labour on Monday and Wednesday next week... But Willow lives and she will never have to know pain. All she knew in my womb was unconditional love. That is all she received and all she gave. She is real, alive and I am blessed to know her. I am also blessed with three beautiful healthy children.

On top of all this, we have been showered with love and healing from so many friends. Thank you! We are all connected through a huge web of love. This is real and all that matters in the end. I wouldn't know such love, had I not known the pain that precedes it.

Another FB friend of mine sent me the poem "In the Willow Shade" by Christina Rossetti (thanks, Stephanie!):

I sat beneath a willow tree,
Where water falls and calls;
While fancies upon fancies solaced me,
Some true, and some were false.

Who set their heart upon a hope
That never comes to pass,
Droop in the end like fading heliotrope
The sun's wan looking-glass.

Who set their will upon a whim
Clung to through good and ill,
Are wrecked alike whether they sink or swim,
Or hit or miss their will.

All things are vain that wax and wane,
For which we waste our breath;
Love only doth not wane and is not vain,
Love only outlives death.

A singing lark rose toward the sky,
Circling he sang amain;
He sang, a speck scarce visible sky-high,
And then he sank again.

A second like a sunlit spark
Flashed singing up his track;
But never overtook that foremost lark,
And songless fluttered back.

A hovering melody of birds
Haunted the air above;
They clearly sang contentment without words,
And youth and joy and love.

O silvery weeping willow tree
With all leaves shivering,
Have you no purpose but to shadow me
Beside this rippled spring?

On this first fleeting day of Spring,
For Winter is gone by,
And every bird on every quivering wing
Floats in a sunny sky;

On this first Summer-like soft day,
While sunshine steeps the air,
And every cloud has gat itself away,
And birds sing everywhere.

Have you no purpose in the world
But thus to shadow me
With all your tender drooping twigs unfurled,
O weeping willow tree?

With all your tremulous leaves outspread
Betwixt me and the sun,
While here I loiter on a mossy bed
With half my work undone;

My work undone, that should be done
At once with all my might;
For after the long day and lingering sun
Comes the unworking night.

This day is lapsing on its way,
Is lapsing out of sight;
And after all the chances of the day
Comes the resourceless night.

The weeping willow shook its head
And stretched its shadow long;
The west grew crimson, the sun smoldered red,
The birds forbore a song.

Slow wind sighed through the willow leaves,
The ripple made a moan,
The world drooped murmuring like a thing that grieves;
And then I felt alone.

I rose to go, and felt the chill,
And shivered as I went;
Yet shivering wondered, and I wonder still,
What more that willow meant;

That silvery weeping willow tree
With all leaves shivering,
Which spent one long day overshadowing me
Beside a spring in Spring.