Flashbacks

It happens every year. As we get closer to Korbin's birthday the flashbacks to moments leading up to his birth resurface and I'm suddenly lost in a moment in time, stuck remembering some of the worst parts of the day leading up to his birth and death. I'm in school now, just started Monday, and so my mind is being pulled away from the usual more constant flashbacks that occur each year and leave me emotionally and physically drained. But alas, here we are again.
This time, it was school that triggered it. Part of a discussion board had me thinking about how we talk to patients before procedures, such as retrievals and transfers. My mind went quickly to focus on retrievals and how much we, the embryologists, attempt to keep the patient's attention and distract them while the anesthesiologist puts needles in and starts their IVs. It's a welcome distraction for the patients, and sometimes they express such gratitude for what we are able to do for them. Collect something so precious and safely tuck them away till it's time for icsi, blast development, and hopefully transfer as an embryo back in to the patient's uterus.
My mind suddenly flashed to the moments before Korbin was born and being whisked away by wheelchair as someone (a nurse? an MA?) was telling me to call my husband. But I was done. The single worst thing I could never have imagined was happening, and I lost all thought and function. I just held up my cell phone and fortunately was able to spit out his cell number. I shut down, and couldn't even ask all those in the operating room to take good care of my son. Of course they did, but being so lost blocked all hope that all would be fine. This same hope we try to instill in our patients daily as they submit something so precious to our care.
I want to tell them I understand their anxiety, lying there on the operating table hoping to have a baby. But it's such a different stage. They are still at the very beginnings of life happening for a baby, and I was on the other end of the pregnancy spectrum. And I often fear that sharing my experiences could potentially place more fear in those wanting so badly to take a baby home with them. No matter the connection in understanding loss and wanting a baby, it is so isolating as well. We don't want to place our fears and anxieties on others, and tread lightly, tiptoeing around each others' emotions never wanting to tip them over the edge. Even though we know that in sharing, we open ourselves up for healing, and helping each other heal as well.
But I'm there, and my experiences allow me such deep and strong empathy for who I am working for, the patients. So despite the triggers and flashbacks this time of year, I still got a lotta love to give.