Being Grateful For Uncertainty
Elaine Dizon is a Filipinx life and mindset coach, writer, mother of 2, and a recognized AT&T Business Cultural Champion. She supports working moms with their next courageous conversation by churning chatter into courage through a process of pause and reflection.
During this year’s 21-day gratitude challenge, I realized that I am grateful for uncertainty. In the space of not knowing, bubbles of fear, worry, and doubt can surface. Our reaction to these inklings can throw us off center because we are habitually motivated to stay safe. When unfamiliar situations crop up or when we do something we used to and we haven’t done it for quite some time, we will sidestep that task, event, or outing because the effort to push through does not seem worth it or...when we don’t know what to expect, we will avoid whatever is ahead.
Uncertainty has a way of concealing growth. Sometimes uncertainty provides so much ground cover we can’t see the sprouts of lessons peeking out at us. Reflecting on this idea, I discovered there was a chapter in my life that yielded a growth spurt in my adult life – one where I realized who and what some of my core values were meant to be...it was my miscarriage in 2009.
At 35, I was the last of my friend group to have a child. I was so ecstatic to learn I was pregnant. Prudently and as with most expecting pairs, my husband and I kept the news to ourselves until we cleared the first trimester. This pregnancy was something we have been waiting and longing for, so we were eager to meet with our OB/GYN to hear the baby’s heartbeat. The uncertainty of parenthood did not frighten us. We had our childhood memories, our siblings, and our parents to support us with advice. We had many friends who already went through the gauntlet of having one or two kids at this point. We were fearless and wanted to get on with it. If we had T-Shirts, they would be emblazoned with “Let’s have this baby already!” During the appointment, our OB/GYN’s light demeanor shifted and as my husband held my hand, we received the news, “There isn’t a heartbeat.” My heart fell. My husband tightened his grip, and I felt my hand loosen. I was flooded with uncertainty, fear, sadness, hurt, and worthlessness.
As the doctor explained two possible paths – miscarrying on my own or coming in for a procedure if the miscarrying on my own didn’t happen by such and such a date, I half heard the whole thing. What was certain? This baby wasn’t going to make it into my life – our life. And the uncertainty of when this will all pass was up in the air. I wrestled with the mental uncertainty the most – What did I do wrong? What is wrong with me? Why is this happening to me? Is my husband mad at me? Will I be able to have children? And on and on and on. At this moment, I truly felt as if I was the only one going through this situation. Logically, I knew I wasn’t, but the feeling of loss is so overwhelming that the news is a one- way message, and you are the only recipient in the whole world.
Instead of talking about it, I waited for my body to do what it needed to do – as the doctor described it, “It may happen on its own.” And as I waited for 4-5 days, I didn’t know how to prepare. Do I need to have towels on my bed? On the floor? Should someone be with me? What will it feel like? I went on about my work schedule. Showing up to work, doing my stuff, and heading home – all the while those worries, fears, and doubts showing up -- What did I do wrong? What is wrong with me? Why is this happening to me? Is my husband mad at me? Will I be able to have children? Later that week, I doubled over in pain and made it to the bathroom. My husband wasn’t home. I had to meet this moment alone. It was a pain I never experienced before. Severe cramping, sweat from fear, and too weak to stand up...so I laid on the floor. I gathered enough strength to bear myself up onto the toilet and I sat for at least thirty minutes cramping and found myself feeling certain that what the doctor described was inevitably going to happen.
Looking back, I am certain that I needed to go through this experience to grow into an understanding that some things can never be explained and detaching from needing to know what specifically went “wrong” offered me space to sprout in directions I never entertained before. Room to learn more about miscarriages and how to return to a place of possibility to try again. This is what I learned (with some refreshed data points 12 years later)
Research suggests 1 in 4 pregnancies ends in miscarriage.
As kind and compassionate doctors are, there may be echo chambers while delivering this message to an expecting individual.
Each partner will handle the aftermath of miscarriage differently.
We don’t talk about it enough. When we do, we need to offer great space and compassion during the conversation. Sometimes, it’s all about listening.
Preparing for uncertainty means entertaining many outcomes and being courageous to look at various perspectives – the ones you are aiming for as well as for the ones you fear – is key in dancing with uncertainty.
#5 is helpful for various situations that may be tinged with a degree of uncertainty. It’s totally ok to not know all the answers. It’s the opportunity to slowly lift the shroud’s edge to allow that sprout to bud and offer you something to learn. After this experience I learned that I truly wanted to be a parent, and there was unfinished business I needed to attend to and ensure I was prepared in a way I was not. I also learned that life – not matter how short is one to be valued and remembered.
If you are dancing with uncertainty, I invite you to do a discovery session with me. Discovery sessions are free and we spend 45 minutes looking at your vision. Whether it’s a bud or in full bloom, I can support you in clarifying what’s next.
Be well, be safe, and be loved. Your Coach Mom,
Elaine
