Labor, if you've ever been in it, feels (to me) like the physical manifestation of grief.
Nurses telling me to breathe through it, reminding me to take one contraction at time, and that this will pass. Lying there unable to hear them...the pain so great, so relentless. The sound of my own heavy breathing, the sensation of my pounding heart drowning out every other noise. Literally wondering how I could possibly get through one more minute...unable to use sensitivity in telling someone not to touch me or to back off. It literally felt just like the long, long year and beyond - of grief. I found myself crying, not because of the pain of giving birth, but because of the pain of losing Max. Awful and heavy and I just couldn't process it. I haven't even really tried since either because now I mostly just feel bliss at Mace's being here.
Unlike the pain of childbirth, which goes away, and which you eventually do mostly forget. The pain of child loss never goes away and often comes back in heavy waves - like being right back in the middle of contractions. My heart breaking and relentlessly pounding - sending waves and waves of pain through my soul - just as intensely as it did in those early, early days and months all over again.