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I don’t do trigger warnings for what I share in this space because life doesn’t come with a trigger warning. Nature doesn’t wrap things in a digestive bubble and honestly, it doesn’t feel correct for me to put a warning on my lived experiences.
If you’re here with me in this corner of the internet, you’ll quickly learn that the subject matter of my work is deep, heavy, and quite frankly… not for everyone. So, if you want to click away, that’s okay — I wont fault you for it, but for those that want to expand their resilience and explore the depths of what humans can endure… thank you for being here. Your presence is appreciated more than you know.
This recording in particular speaks of a woman named Anarcha Westcott, the mother of modern Gynaecology.
The history of her connection to Dr. J Marion Sims is profoundly controversial, inhumanly barbaric, and important to be understood.
Upon finding out who she was, through wails and moans, I found myself researching as much as I possibly could. A contrasting mix of emotions flood my body when I think of her; everything from gratitude to horror, and always accompanied by a river of tears.
I share her name now, alongside her story, with everyone that I can.
While I don’t do trigger warnings, I do recognize that having boundaries in spaces like this, with the subject matter I cover, is supportive. So I want to be transparently clear: the reason I chose to have this is as a paid publication is not to monetize off of Anarcha Westcott, the suffering she endured, or her story. Rather, this conversation speaks to the parallels of our lives and the pain that we both experienced. This is a recording where I express and explore my personal connection to her; so while I do go into her story as well as offer bits and pieces of historical gynaecological education — this really is more of an intimate telling of my own life and how it pertains to her.
In many ways this recording serves as a requiem of emotion from me to Anarcha Westcott.
A refusal to let her be forgotten.
A remembrance of her suffering and sacrifice that directly and positively impact billions of women today.
This is a space where I stand in vulnerability.
Emotionally and physiologically relating to this woman who knows my story more than anyone else, even though she has been dead for over 150 years.
My journey with childbirth was, in many way, unique — extreme and uncommon to say the least. Not just because I lost my son, but because of all the subtle details woven within the multi-day labour and the bodily dysfunction to follow.
Over the past year I’ve connected with other women who have experienced stillbirth, each story as unique as the mother who tells it.
And as supportive as connecting with these women has been for me, the woman that understands my journey the most lived almost 200 years ago; the recording you are about to listen to is an emotional telling of how we mirror one another.
As I said prior, there are absolutely educational pieces woven into the words I share, however — this really is a remembering of Anarcha Westcott — the only woman I currently know of that has walked a parallel path from a physiological standpoint. Of course our paths are not identical, but the likeness is heartbreaking.
If you are curious to know more about Anarcha Westcott, I encourage you to research her as much as you can. If you are wanting to learn more about the parallels between her and me, as well as my experience with traumatic childbirth and child-loss — this is the recording to take some intentional time with.
I wish that I could sit at her feet… that we could be there for one another in a way that can only be done by someone who really knows the pain from a similar lived experience.
I wish that I could be there for her and she could be there for me, and that we could talk to one another about our journeys and hold each other in a way that only those who have walked a similar path can.
I see you Anarcha, and if you’re out there I hope you see me too.
In reverence and remembrance,
Emma
