How I Overcame My Fear of Pregnancy

How I overcame my fear of pregnancy

Overcame Pregnancy Fear with experience

I overcame pregnancy fear with an experience that was both painful and difficult.

I remember the first time I heard about miscarriage and I actually thought to myself, “What is the big deal about miscarriage?”

A woman whom I was working with at a non-profit in Kitchener had missed a meeting and our colleague told me, “She had a miscarriage.”

As if I should understand.

But, I didn’t.

I was 19-years old and was trying desperately to avoid pregnancy at that point. In fact I was terrified of having a baby:

1.Children Were Not A Part of My Community

One of my girlfriends at University had fallen pregnant in second year, and she was having a real struggle dealing with bringing your baby to school (it was just NOT cool).

2.A Child Would Slow Me Down

And I had too many things I wanted to do, a child would only slow me down.

3.Pregnancy would Change My Body

I had struggled all my life with body-image. How could I handle a huge belly? And the changes to my physical body?

Fast Forward a Decade

Fast forward to 10 years later and I had an hands-on opportunity to understand the pain of pregnancy (and surprisingly overcame pregnancy fear).

Understanding the humanity of pain

It was a rainy day. Two weeks before during my after-school herbal training (no, I did not have time for that) I had asked my teacher Dr. Godfrey to check my pulses, were they slippery?

“Yes, you are pregnant.”

I was on my way back to herbal class when I started to feel incredulous pain in my belly.

There had been some spotting while we were away in Cuba (for a well-deserved break). I was startled, yet hopeful.

We were back in Toronto, and this was cramping pain.

Physical Experience of Pain
I was searching through the fields in High Park looking for my colleagues at the community gardens. John was supposed to be showing us the herbs that we had been studying, in live-action that week. I traipsed through the rain, tears masked by the rain. Cramping and worried.

I never found my class.

I returned to my house and I had an urge to expel the baby into the dirt. I went into our lovely huge backyard at Kendal Street in Toronto and I squatted over the earth.

The rain was so heavy and thick that I could barely see three feet in front of me. I released, in agony.

I was alone.

Emotional Experience of Isolation
I wanted to be alone.

I was like a deer finding a dark corner of the forest in order to birth her young. Only that this young one was not going to make it out of the forest.

This little one was gone before he arrived.


I knew it was a boy – stronger Yin pulses because the Yang was all used up. I knew he would have been a great big brother to my children to come.

I knew that after he was born, there was no way that I would NOT be able to have children. I was driven to bring another life into my body. To birth a child, alive, into this world.

Greater Personal Pain than Ever Before

It was painful and sad.

More sad than anything that I had lost in the past: grandfather, sister, cousin. Not even close. How could I grieve this loss?

I sought the support from people around me.

Asking for Support

The first was a nurse whom I met when I went in to see the doc after the miscarriage for a scan. The nurse asked me whether I had named the child. Did I know was it a girl or a boy.

A boy, I think.

We will name him Angel.

The technician at the clinic was the next voice of calm and comfort:

Often the body needs a practice run. Your body is getting used to being pregnant.

This was the support that I received from the medical community.

Let me offer the support you need. Call for Support.

Spiritual Support from Women’s Circle
Next, I was in a women’s circle at the Anishnawbe health center in Toronto. The leader of the circle asked if anyone had any questions.

Already I was feeling the stigma of being a woman who could not bring a baby to this world. What would people think of my body? What would people think about me? What was wrong with me?

With huge hesitation and a feeling of embarrassment I asked,

What does it mean and how can we stop feeling so horribly sad after having a miscarriage?

She told me,

Every single life that comes into this world has value. There is no life wasted. Life is valuable no matter how long or how short it exists.

Her response was simple, yet so true. We all have a purpose coming to this earth. We are all welcomed and wanted on this earth. Know that your child lived and added value.

So true that it continues to ring true for me whenever I remember her words. And I have told so many women the same message of value in ALL life.

No life is a waste. It is all a part of the plan. Let me help with your future plan. Plan with Me .

Angel gave me insight into the feelings of loss that so many women feel around childbirth and fertility.

That was my spiritual insight into the miscarriage and my loss of Angel, my first born son.

I had experienced the physical,
releasing the baby into the soil of my backyard garden

I had experienced the medical,
with a sweetness from the technician and nurse that I never would have imagined.

I had experienced the spiritual,
with an awareness of how pain can develope deep insight and intuition into the experience of humanity.

Losing this baby felt fearful and painful at the start. Yet, the lessons I learned were invaluable. I learned about:

  • being a woman
  • experiencing the joy of creating
  • the pain of losing life

These are lessons that I will never regret. With this loss I overcame pregnancy fear.

To be fearful of experience is to be fearful of life.

This loss gave me an opportunity to experience and embrace feelings and awareness. With this awareness of loss, grief and pain I became more empathetic to others around me.

I came to realize then how my colleague at the non-profit would have been feeling when she missed our board meeting.

She was in extreme pain. She had lost. She was grieving.

We all grieve and experience loss.

Sharing our losses and bonding with others gives us the space to evolve as humans.

Losing this child made me realize I was not afraid of getting pregnant. In fact because of this loss my desire to become pregnant became a deep longing and desire. I wanted to experience the pain of life. I wanted to feel and love and hate and hurt.

I wanted to live.

Let me hear your stories of sadness. Do not dwell alone. I understand the pain of loss and the darkness. Please write back to me and tell me your story of loss. Let me support and witness your pain.

All of life has purpose and value. Let me reflect the value of your life and losses. Get In Touch .

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