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Unpacking Birth Trauma and How I Hold Space for Healing

Birth is often described as a transformative, joyful milestone, but for some, it carries unexpected pain—not just physical, but emotional and psychological. As a birth professional, I’ve witnessed the profound strength of those bringing life into the world, and I’ve also seen how birth can leave invisible scars. Birth trauma is real, complex, and deeply personal. My role isn’t to “fix” it but to hold space for healing with compassion, respect, and unwavering presence. Here’s what I’ve learned about unpacking birth trauma, supporting those navigating its aftermath, and connecting with resources to aid recovery.


What Is Birth Trauma?

Birth trauma isn’t a one-size-fits-all experience. It can stem from:

  • Loss of Control: Feeling powerless during labor, whether due to unexpected interventions, dismissive care, or a sense of being unheard.

  • Physical or Emotional Harm: Complications, pain beyond expectation, or feeling violated by medical procedures.

  • Unmet Expectations: When birth diverges sharply from hopes—say, an emergency cesarean instead of a planned home birth.

  • Neglect or Disrespect: Interactions with providers that feel rushed, judgmental, or dehumanizing.

  • Postpartum Fallout: Challenges like NICU stays, breastfeeding struggles, or lack of support that compound the birth experience.


Importantly, trauma isn’t defined by the outcome (e.g., a healthy baby) but by how the birthing person felt. A birth that looks “fine” on paper can still leave someone reeling. I’ve supported parents who felt guilty for their pain because “at least the baby is okay.” My first step is always to validate: your feelings matter, no matter what.


Recognizing the Signs

Birth trauma can show up in many ways, sometimes immediately, sometimes years later:

  • Flashbacks or nightmares about the birth.

  • Anxiety around medical settings or future pregnancies.

  • Feelings of shame, failure, or disconnection from the baby.

  • Physical tension when recalling the experience.

  • Avoidance of talking about the birth, or obsessively needing to.


I remember a mom I worked with, Sarah, who described feeling “haunted” by her hospital birth. She’d tense up whenever she passed the hospital, even years later. Unpacking that with her meant listening without rushing to solutions, letting her name her pain.


How I Hold Space for Healing

Holding space means creating a safe, nonjudgmental environment where someone can process their experience at their own pace. Here’s what that looks like in practice:


1. Listening Without Fixing

When someone shares their birth story, my job is to listen—really listen. I don’t interrupt with “at least” or “it could’ve been worse.” I let them speak their truth, whether it’s anger, grief, or confusion. I might say, “That sounds so heavy. Do you want to share more?” This opens the door without pushing.

For example, I supported a parent, Jamie, who felt betrayed by their body during a prolonged labor. Instead of offering clichés like “You’re so strong,” I asked gentle questions: “What did that moment feel like for you?” That simple act of curiosity helped them start unraveling their story.


2. Validating Their Experience

Trauma thrives in silence and shame. I affirm that their feelings are real and valid, no matter how others perceive the birth. Phrases like “You didn’t deserve to feel that way” or “It’s okay to grieve what you lost” can be powerful. I also normalize that healing isn’t linear—some days feel lighter, others heavier.


3. Honoring Their Autonomy

Birth trauma often involves a loss of agency, so I prioritize giving control back. If we’re working together post-birth, I ask, “What feels supportive to you right now?” Some want to debrief their birth in detail; others need practical tools like breathing exercises or referrals to therapists. I follow their lead.


4. Creating Rituals for Closure

For some, healing involves symbolic acts. I’ve guided parents through writing letters to their younger selves, creating art from their birth experience, or even holding a small ceremony to honor what they endured. One parent I worked with planted a tree with their partner, naming it as a symbol of growth beyond their traumatic birth. These rituals can anchor healing in something tangible.


5. Supporting Partners and Families

Birth trauma doesn’t just affect the birthing person. Partners, too, can feel helpless or guilty. I check in with them, asking, “How are you holding up?” I encourage open communication, helping families process together without blame.


Finding Support: Denver Metro Area and Beyond

Healing from birth trauma often benefits from community and professional support. While I offer emotional presence, connecting with specialized resources can be a vital step. Here are tailored options for the Denver Metro area, plus universal resources for those seeking help:

  • Local Support Groups: In Denver, Postpartum Support International (PSI) Colorado Chapter offers free virtual and in-person support groups for birth trauma and perinatal mood disorders. Their Denver Metro groups, like the weekly Mothers and Moods peer support at Children’s Hospital Colorado, provide a safe space to connect with others. Contact PSI Colorado at 1-800-944-4773 or visit postpartum.net for local schedules. Luna Counseling Center also hosts a six-week processing group for traumatic birth and perinatal loss, starting regularly at 5 p.m. on Wednesdays (call 720-316-4336 to register).

  • Birth Trauma Therapists: The Denver Metro area has skilled therapists trained in birth trauma. Colorado Birth and Wellness offers therapy with Stacey and Leanne, both PMH-C certified, specializing in EMDR and art therapy for perinatal trauma (303-800-6063, coloradobirthandwellness.com). The Catalyst Center in Englewood is renowned for birth trauma treatment, with therapists like Dr. Lies van Bekkum using EMDR and Brainspotting (720-675-7123, catalystcenterllc.com). My Denver Therapy has multiple locations (Denver, Greenwood Village, Lone Tree) with perinatal specialists offering EMDR and CBT (720-295-4239, mydenvertherapy.com). Ask for PMH-C credentials or EMDR training when booking.

  • Maternal Mental Health Hotlines: For immediate support, the National Maternal Mental Health Hotline (1-833-TLC-MAMA or 1-833-852-6262) provides 24/7 free, confidential help in English and Spanish, with referrals to Denver providers. Locally, Healthy Expectations at Children’s Hospital Colorado offers urgent support and can connect you to their perinatal mental health program (720-777-1234). If you’re in crisis, the Colorado Crisis Services hotline (1-844-493-8255) serves the Denver Metro area with trained counselors.

  • Community Resources: Parents Thrive Colorado (parentsthrive.org) is a Denver-based online tool with curated blogs and resources for perinatal mental health, including local provider directories. Colorado CBT in Denver offers women-focused therapy for birth trauma, with in-person and virtual options (720-926-4373, cocbt.com). For culturally specific support, check with Denver Indian Health and Family Services (dihfs.org, 303-953-6600) for Indigenous-focused maternal care, as they may have trauma-informed referrals.


To explore more, visit your local library or community health center, like Denver Health (denverhealth.org, 303-436-6000), for flyers on free groups. If you’re unsure where to start, I can help narrow down options—just let me know what feels right for you.


Navigating Future Births

For those considering another pregnancy, birth trauma can cast a long shadow. I help by:

  • Debriefing the Past: We explore what felt traumatic last time to identify triggers and preferences.

  • Building a Plan: This might mean choosing a different provider, setting clear boundaries, or hiring a doula for extra advocacy.

  • Reclaiming Power: I remind them they’re not defined by their past birth. One mom I supported, Lisa, chose a home birth after a traumatic hospital experience. My role was to bolster her confidence, ensuring she felt safe every step of the way.


A Story of Healing

One of the most moving experiences I’ve had was with a friend, who felt silenced during her first birth. She described being “steamrolled” by medical decisions. Years later, preparing for her second child, she was terrified. We spent months unpacking her story—talking, crying, even laughing at small victories. During her second birth, I stayed by her side, reminding her she had a voice. She held her baby and whispered, “I did it my way.” That moment wasn’t about erasing the past but reclaiming her strength.


Why This Matters

Birth trauma can feel isolating, but no one has to navigate it alone. As a birth professional, I see my role as a companion—not a healer, but a witness to resilience. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting; it means finding a way to carry the experience with less pain, more peace. Whether through Denver’s vibrant support network or broader resources, there are paths forward.


If you’ve experienced birth trauma, know this: your story deserves to be heard, and your feelings are enough. Healing is possible, not through force but through gentle, intentional steps. What does support look like for you right now? I’m here to listen, whether you’re ready to share or need a quiet breathing space.

 
 
 

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