Some parents judge themselves quite harshly. . . . We all wish we were able to live our ideals . . . yet it seems so important to be compassionate toward the person we were at that time, to be understanding and forgiving.
—Michael Gabriel
In this section, we'll explore the pathways to healing, visiting those areas of our lives where our deepest fears and conflicts tend to play themselves out. Here's where the hot buttons get pushed, where we summon defense strategies, worn-out excuses, lies, and deceptions, hurting those we love and hurting ourselves in an effort to hang on to our negative beliefs. These are also the life experiences that promote healing. Difficult as it is, we can let go of our destructive patterns or we can continue to fight the same old battles about the same old things in the same old ways. The choice is ours.
We begin with pregnancy and parenting, a subject that should be light, romantic, and joyful. The movies always seem to make it so. Parents-to-be are usually very much in love. The woman finds a cute, clever way to tell the man how much she loves the fact that they are going to have a baby. They ride off into the sunset, have the perfect baby, and all live happily (and perfectly) ever after.
Unfortunately, in many cases, getting pregnant can be a very painful experience emotionally: teenage pregnancy, pregnancy through rape, pregnancy out of wedlock, unplanned pregnancy. The pregnancy can prematurely end in a miscarriage or be terminated by abortion. There's the pain of giving birth to a stillborn child or giving birth to a child who is considered “less than perfect,” which means that there is a physical deformity or a mental disorder. Then there are the parents who go through the pain of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS). A pregnancy may end in adoption or placing the child in a foster home. At the opposite end of the spectrum there is the pain of not being able to get pregnant.
Even under the best of circumstances, most people do not think very far ahead when they get pregnant. Many are illequipped to be parents and are unable to face the challenges that may lie ahead. What if that precious infant does not become the son or daughter they always wanted? What if the child turns out to be a disappointment or an embarrassment?
I have seen in my own case, and in those of many of my clients, how conflicts around pregnancy, children, and parenting that stem from unresolved issues can create some real health problems physically, mentally, and emotionally. But this “combat zone” is also a healing battleground—a place where the challenges that present themselves are also an opportunity.
When I was nineteen years old, I found out that I was pregnant. I had not used any means of contraception for two reasons: first, the doctor had told me that because of my poor history of ovulating I wouldn't be able to get pregnant without medical help; second, I felt guilty about having sex before marriage. Using birth control was an admission that I was no longer what I was supposed to be—a virgin.
My boyfriend, my parents, and I weighed the pros and cons of what I should do about the pregnancy. Abortion didn't feel right to me, and neither did marriage. We were so young. Our relationship wasn't the healthiest. I was terrified of being a mother and a wife.
We decided that I would go to California, stay with friends of our families, have the baby, put it up for adoption, and then come back to Minnesota. We were embarrassed to tell anyone the truth, so we told friends that I was transferring to college in Palo Alto. In 1968, being pregnant and not married was a pretty shameful thing. In addition, being in California on my own was difficult because I had never been away from home prior to this. I earned money by babysitting. I wore a ring from Woolworth's and told everyone my husband was in Vietnam.
As tough as it was, I loved being pregnant, having the feeling of life inside me. I talked to my baby all of the time, holding my stomach as if I were holding him. I explained to him that I loved him more than anything and didn't want to give him up, but felt as if I should. I was so afraid that he would not feel loved. I spent many hours crying about the way it was all going to turn out. Even though I knew he was going to a good family, I was always trying to think of a way to keep him for myself. If there really was a God, I couldn't understand why a woman would have to give up her baby.
My son was born on November 20, 1968. Three days later, I returned to Minnesota, forty pounds heavier than when I had left. I had gained so much weight because I ate all of the time. I didn't know how to deal with all of my feelings around the pregnancy. Everyone thought that I was coming back from school, so no one could understand why I seemed so depressed. I had terrible postpartum blues that lasted for weeks.
I stayed in my room, not ever wanting to come out. I never wanted to see another man as long as I lived; I never wanted to have sex again either. However, in my state of confusion I wanted at the same time to get my baby back and marry his father. I didn't know what was right anymore. I felt miserable and moped around for about three months. Finally, my father insisted that I get a job or go back to college. He also bought me a health club membership.
I got a job as a night manager at a pancake house. I went on a diet and worked out at the club but, unfortunately, I didn't do anything about my emotional state. So many of us think that if we just have a good job and look good on the outside, any emotional problems on the inside will go away. I did everything I could to improve myself on the outside and began my search for Mr. Right. I became almost obsessed with getting married and replacing my baby.
I am telling you this story because I know that I am not the only one who has gone through this experience. The effects of this pregnancy lasted for more than twenty years. Every year after my son was born, from the beginning of October (the original estimated due date) until the 20th of November (the delivery date), I would go into a state of deep depression. I would feel a very heavy sense of loss. Mentally, I would become very preoccupied, almost as if I were someplace else, but I could not make out what was happening to me. My family and close friends noticed my behavior. Every year I would tell myself that I wasn't going to go through it again and, just like clockwork, the first week in October I would slowly start to slip into a depression. I would go to therapy early in the fall to ward it off before it began, but there seemed to be no way to control it.
I told the story over and over again, but never really got into my feelings of shame, humiliation, fear, anger, resentment, and guilt. I listed the facts—first this happened, then that happened— but I didn't talk about how I humiliated I had felt when people asked me about my husband or wanted to plan a baby shower for me. I felt so ashamed of myself when I ducked out of town immediately after leaving the hospital. I knew it was my way of avoiding telling anyone the truth.
I wouldn't have to talk about how I had disappointed my parents, or how I was fearful that my brother would no longer like me or would think I was a slut. I wouldn't have to mention the shame I felt when the hospital put me in a room away from the other mothers to avoid upsetting them. I wouldn't have to admit to the incredible amount of pain I felt each time I sat outside the nursery window staring at my baby, knowing I would never touch him or be with him. Or the terrible sadness I felt when I could feel a child inside me—my child—which I was going to give away. The truth was no matter how many times people had told me that it was such an unselfish and loving thing to put my child up for adoption, it didn't relieve that deep sense of sorrow.
All of those feelings sat in my body for years. The tapes in my body played over and over again: “I am bad. I am an embarrassment to others. I am messed up. I am no good. I can't do anything right. I am a failure. I hurt other people. I am a disgrace.”
I told therapist after therapist that I was a bad person. I told all the stories in great detail so they would understand why I felt the way I did, but it didn't seem to relieve the beliefs or the feelings I had. I wanted to stay away from the feelings because they were too painful to experience again. I believe today that the reason I stayed stuck for so long was because I stayed in my head and talked about the facts of my pregnancy rather than the feelings associated with my pregnancy.
When I finally started to feel my feelings about my pregnancy and the loss of my child, sharing them with my therapist, I began to heal. My therapist suggested that I really grieve my loss. At first, I responded that I had cried every year over my loss. She told me that even though I had cried, I had never really let my son go and so had never really grieved my loss. I cried off and on for the next week about this. I had to give myself permission just to cry, cry, cry . . . to get the sadness out of my body.
I had a client named Rebecca who still held her resentments in her uterus as the result of a pregnancy she had twenty-three years earlier!
Rebecca's husband Dan had not wanted a baby and thought his wife felt the same. When she became pregnant, he felt betrayed and did nothing to support her. He refused to participate in childbirth classes, and when she was in labor, he chose to go fishing.
For twenty-three years Rebecca held on to those resentments, and finally they grew into several benign tumors in her uterus. She told me that she never shared with her husband how deeply hurt she was because she didn't want to upset him.
Do you have any negative issues relating to a pregnancy or pregnancies, either in the past or at the present time? Review this list of questions and see whether any pertain to you:
If any of these questions are too painful for you to think about, it means that the pain is still inside, locked in.
Parenting is another area of our lives that has the potential to become a source of healing, if we can overcome the pain and conflict surrounding choices made or choices that were forced upon us. Parenting is also a legacy from our own parents, and how we were raised will dictate much of the emotional pain we carry and subsequently bring into the lives of our own children.
The circumstances of how we became a parent may have a lot to do with how we feel about this role. See if any of the following questions pertain to you:
Again, if any of these questions resonate with you or are too painful for you to think about, it is likely that the pain is still stored somewhere in your body.
During healings with single mothers, I have seen many negative feelings toward the child's father or the child itself residing in the pelvic area where they are now causing or will eventually cause pain or illness.
I have also had male clients who are raising their children alone. Some feel like victims of circumstances. Sadly, they either take their feelings out on their children or hold them inside. My healings on these men reveal a lot of anger inside their bodies, especially in the back, neck, and shoulders.
Let's move beyond pregnancy to your child as she is growing or has grown up. If you have resentment toward your child, these feelings are going to physically hurt you. You have got to get these feelings out of your body. Here are more questions to answer or think about:
Whatever your feelings about parenting your child, if the outcome hasn't been what you wanted or dreamed about, you can heal from the experience. As you do the exercises in this chapter and elsewhere in this book, be patient with yourself and your body. If tears come, don't hold them back. If you feel angry, yell at the whole crummy, painful situation and tell it how you feel. Beat some pillows if you need to. Just remember not to hurt yourself or your child in this releasing process. There has already been enough hurt for this lifetime.
Exercise 1
Touching Your Feelings
Put your hands on your abdomen and close your eyes. Allow your thoughts to wander back to the time when you were pregnant. Experience any emotions that are stirring up. If you were single and pregnant, or if you were forced to terminate a pregnancy—if you faced parenting alone or put your child up for adoption—whatever choices you made or were forced to make, let your feelings about these choices emerge. As feelings, memories, and awarenesses come to the surface, let them flow. If tears come, let them out. If you feel angry, yell what you are feeling out loud. Take time to fully experience all of your feelings. Then, when you feel ready, record this experience in your healing journal.
Exercise 2
Broken Dreams
Did your pregnancy change your expectations about the way you thought your life would turn out? If you had different plans, goals, or dreams for yourself, do you feel any resentment toward your child, your partner, or perhaps even yourself? Do you feel angry or remorseful about the way your life is turning out? If you were raised a religious person, has this affected your relationship with God? Do you ever feel that God did this to you?
Let yourself experience any feelings that come up. Let yourself recall memories of what you had planned or dreamed for your life. Record the memories and feelings that come up in your journal.
Exercise 3
The Adoption/Foster Home Dilemma
Over the past forty years I've done readings for many people who were adopted and have never met one that didn't want to know why. As part of your healing process, I strongly encourage you to write a letter to your child and send it to the agency that you worked with. If it was a private adoption through an attorney, send it to the attorney's office and ask them to put the letter in your file.
It may take years for your child to be able to financially afford to look you up. She could be waiting because she doesn't want to hurt her adoptive mother's feelings. And she may also be terrified that you'll “reject” her again.
Use your letter to tell her all about the circumstances of her adoption. Tell her about yourself, too, and any information you have about her other birth parent. Include pictures. Say everything that you've ever wanted to say to your baby. This will not only be incredibly healing for you, but will be a wonderful gift for your child.
Exercise 4
Inability to Get Pregnant
If you have been unable to get pregnant, what are your feelings about this situation? How has it affected your feelings toward your partner? Try not to make judgments or assign blame. Just record how your feelings have changed during this period of time.