Grieving & Healing – Tasha

Grieving & Healing | a pregnancy, a baby, a death, a birth, a funeral a husband, a divorce, a home & a life that never was.

I couldn’t take what I was feeling, reliving that experience, the pain felt like it took over me
and I lost my identity. It was my first pregnancy; it was all so raw and so new to me, and I
couldn’t believe that nobody told me.

Lost. Alone. Isolated. Silenced. Choked. Cold. Shook. Shame. Guilt.

I’ve come to learn that statistically, babies of British Asian or Asian ethnicity are at greater
risk of dying yet there is very limited study or narrative on the psychological research of
perinatal loss; especially from a lived experience.

Enduring this pain within a mixed British but very Punjabi culture/family was strange. They
kept telling me to eat pinni and have hot milk. All I heard was how I shouldn’t cry, so I
bottled it all up inside. To this day I’m still juggling what I’m feeling against what’s expected
of me. I did the typical Punjabi woman thing and I pushed through, standing tall and strong
because that’s the ‘right’ thing to do. Something I think we’ve inherited through the elders;
women don’t voice their opinions; they don’t have emotions & feelings, they just cook &
clean whilst staying quiet.

Even my tears fell in silence; I’d sit on the floor in the shower where it felt safe to cry a little
louder; looking down to a flat stomach wondering why I’m no longer pregnant, where’s my
baby gone. & then hearing my husband knocking at the door saying, ‘Tash don’t cry’. The
pain in his voice hurt me more. This experience was killing me, I wanted to scream the whole
place down, but I could barely utter a word.

If it wasn’t the physical it was the mental, the spiritual & also him – I had to deal with so
much because he couldn’t, and I was scared that he’d lose his head and I just didn’t have it in
me for the both of us. Heartbroken is an understatement but this was just the start of what was
to come. It felt like my mind, body, heart & soul was being tortured and fragments of that I
still carry. Trauma that deep, it alters your DNA.

I birthed my son straight into my hands, and then I held him on my chest, skin to skin and I
looked in awe at him, how much he looked just like the two of us. I honestly couldn’t believe
him, (I still can’t) that this was our son and everything about him – he looked exactly like us;
half me and half his Daddy. I kissed him everywhere I could and whispered to him; Mummy
Loves You So Much.

A month to that very day it was his funeral; ‘baby’s last steps’. In between that I was made to
leave my marital home and sent back to my mums. I wanted my husband and a day later
when I said I’m coming back; I was told no, that this house was no longer my home, I’m
being divorced. He betrayed me. I thought I couldn’t take much more, but he made me see
how strong I am on my own. Something inside me kept saying not to make a move so I
didn’t. I trusted my intuition.

My journey in grieving and in healing was too much and at times it still is. What it did to my
health & how I’d wake up due to the pain running through my body scared me. I didn’t speak
much for 6 months; my family barely heard a peak out of me. There was so much that
happened I had no idea where to start, what do I grieve, how do I grieve. There was
something much bigger to learn from this and I was determined to honour my son as best I
could.

I detached from everything, stayed between study and prayer; as if that was my 9 to 5. I’m
not saying that was the right thing to do but that’s how I managed to get up. I’ve had to go
back to all of that, I re-visit everything & often. I have no choice if I truly want to heal.
Healing is hard, and it’s glamourized through Instagram, but real-life trauma work is not
pretty, trust me! It haunts me even in my sleep.

Within 8 days my whole life changed; not only had my baby died, my husband, my home, the
family I gained as in laws and had come to love so much – they all disappeared out my life.
I refused to be another girl who had suffered and stopped living life at the hands of being
married into a South Asian home.

I’ve worked on my mind set every day since this happened and I’ve been active in learning
about the affect’s trauma has on the brain, and how it embeds in our DNA.
I never left my prayer and God never left me so simultaneously I’ve been on a spiritual
journey. I’ve experienced much more than I could ever have imagined. I’ve conversated with
the heavens, I’ve gone back to my inner child wounds, I’m doing shadow work. I think it’s
my purpose to heal my ancestral lineage so that’s what I’m trying to do.
Healing ancestral pain; breaking generational hurt whilst honouring generational blessings. I
do all of this for mother earth, for my family tree and for me; so, I can show up authentically
in whatever version that may be.

As a community, we’ve got to heal on a collective level and break generational traumas; it
affects our genetics and the physical structures of our DNA. If not for our elders or ourselves,
then at least for the next generation. We can’t keep passing these wounds & traumas to the
next set of babies.

It’s been just over 2 years and 2 months; I still have bad days but I’m really trying and I’m
finally sharing some of my heart’s deepest writings. My Armaan (wish) is that it helps to heal
your hurt parts too & you find your light within you.

By Tasha | @blusabar