I started seeing a therapist a couple weeks before I learned the baby had died. More than likely, the baby had already died before our first appointment together, but the purpose of our sessions was for me to undergo EMDR treatments to address the PTSD that still lingers as a result of Roux’s delivery. While that is still something I intend to pursue, the context of our relationship has changed dramatically. I’m no longer preparing for birth, I’m healing from loss.
Her office is located within the same office where I first saw images of my baby without a beating heart, where the last time I was within those walls, I underwent one of the most physically painful preoperative procedures I’ve ever experienced. Not to mention the place is spilling over with Pregnant Women, the demographic most likely to turn my stomach and bring me to tears at this particular moment.
To say I’m nervous about going is a wild understatement, but go I shall because I’m all about doing the work. Any work I can find, even if it’s hard or painful, I’m determined to come through this.
I will not be lost along with the baby.