4 Tactics That Helped Me Recover Spiritually After A Pregnancy Loss
By: Gloria D. Gonsalves
Tags: Miscarriage, Spirituality, Infertility, Womens Health, Grief

1. Talk to the Trees

I don’t know what made me consider trees in the forest as a place to unburden my heart with wailing. Perhaps I didn’t need someone to talk back with consolation. Words from our beloved ones are meant to comfort, but that is not what grief needs.

Whenever my physical condition allowed, I went alone or asked my beloved to accompany me to the forest. This ritual felt like going to bury my child. So, I went to bury my child several times in the following weeks and months.

I learned that grief wants you to feel the pain, to suffer it, to feel broken and not soothed until you have accepted the loss that has befallen you in its entirety.

2. Invent a Ritual

It was during the time of visiting the forest that I noticed one tree squeaking almost every time I walked by. That particular tree became my speaking companion. I stopped to tell it my pain, my progress, my complaints, and my gratitude. Some days I walked by in tears without a word. Then I would hear a squeak trailing behind me, like a mother saying, “I am here even when you are hurting and can’t confide in me.”

To date, I always look forward to its squeak hello, received with gratitude and contentment. Sometimes, the tree doesn’t greet me. Although I wish it did, I tell myself that it deserves a rest. It takes much energy to squeak and bow down. You can listen to the tree below.

Video by author

In life, things get broken and we don’t hesitate seeking help from others to mend them, whether it’s a carpenter, a plumber, a mechanic, a technician, etc. We do the same for our broken selves. Sometimes, we don’t ask for help from others. We mend ourselves through rituals. Some of these are passed on to us through culture. Others, we invent ourselves. Whichever you decide, we owe it to ourselves to have a ritual to help us deal with a loss.

3. Notice the Greatness in Small Things

During my forest walks, I had chosen a particular section of the forest as a place where I imagined my child resting eternally. Whenever I walked by, I spoke words or invented prayers. One day while walking by, I asked for a sign that all is well with my child. Further along the road, I saw a bird feather and picked it up. I don’t know what made me take that feather, go home, sit at my writing desk, and search online for “What does it mean to find a feather?”

I learned that finding a feather is a sign from the angels. The subject of angels and archangels so fascinated me that I bought the books Angels 101 and Archangels 101. Learning about which angel to ask when needing joy or which one to thank for taking care of nature was transcending to me. These revelations led me to write my grief in a format I had not tried before. I gave myself the grace to sink in the darkness of my pain, worries, and shame, then rise in the light with what I learned about myself or the situation in general. If in need of help, I conversed with a celestial being. The result was a poetry and reflections book.

The experience with the feather taught me the importance of nurturing an ability to see greatness in small things that don’t have obvious value.

4. Observe the Moon

When grieving a loss, you have a void. Your pain will look for ways to refill it, and I hope you do not go down the road of harming yourself or others.

There is a lesson in watching the moon phases; filling up from the new moon to the full moon.

I did not know when the moon would appear but when it did, we held a long conversation. She was and still is my Mother Moon. When she was new, I congratulated her for her passage to adulthood. When she was full, I congratulated her for being pregnant. When she waned, I congratulated her for giving birth. It was insane, but it kept my sanity and filled my void.

Through observing the moon, I learned to accept the joy of others’ pregnancies without bearing bitterness or jealousy.