QUOTE
Remember a year or so ago, when that QANTAS jet had a gaping hole in it and performed an emergency landing? The TV news footage showed the passengers arriving in Melbourne on another jet, and embracing their loved ones. Most were crying, some were shaking, and all were visibly affected by the experience.
Passengers told of the few minutes when they wondered if they would die, as the plane plummeted 19, 000 feet, their voices choked with emotion as they recalled their extreme fear, panic and anxiety. And I imagined these people going home with their families, who welcomed them at the airport with outstretched arms. They would likely be cosseted and fussed over, offered comforting food and drink, and their moments of terror openly listened to with shock and interest and appropriate “Oh My God’s” from listeners as they talked about their experience.
But would anyone say to them, “At least you didn’t die.”, and try to shoosh them up if they tried to talk about it? Would anyone tell them, “Well, I understand that plane trip didn’t go quite how you’d planned, but all’s well that end’s well, hey?”. Of course not. And would family understand if these people were a bit shaky for a while afterwards, and needed to feel safe? I’d say they would.
But imagine the same scene after a woman has a traumatic birth. Is there anyone waiting for her with outstretched arms? Generally not. Women after a traumatic birth are usually not cosseted and fussed over, or comforted beyond a perfunctory ‘there, there’.
Passengers told of the few minutes when they wondered if they would die, as the plane plummeted 19, 000 feet, their voices choked with emotion as they recalled their extreme fear, panic and anxiety. And I imagined these people going home with their families, who welcomed them at the airport with outstretched arms. They would likely be cosseted and fussed over, offered comforting food and drink, and their moments of terror openly listened to with shock and interest and appropriate “Oh My God’s” from listeners as they talked about their experience.
But would anyone say to them, “At least you didn’t die.”, and try to shoosh them up if they tried to talk about it? Would anyone tell them, “Well, I understand that plane trip didn’t go quite how you’d planned, but all’s well that end’s well, hey?”. Of course not. And would family understand if these people were a bit shaky for a while afterwards, and needed to feel safe? I’d say they would.
But imagine the same scene after a woman has a traumatic birth. Is there anyone waiting for her with outstretched arms? Generally not. Women after a traumatic birth are usually not cosseted and fussed over, or comforted beyond a perfunctory ‘there, there’.
This article may be helpful to many people out there - especially the ones with the "you/you're baby is still alive" attitude.
I'm lucky that DS and I bonded straight away and I was able to breastfeed to 17.5 months but am still angry and upset about his birth.
