The Most Unfortunate Case of the Broken Human

A gentle content note

Before we begin this particular investigation, I want to give you a little warning. This story touches on pregnancy loss and the grief that comes with it. While I won't go into graphic detail, some of the subject matter may be difficult or upsetting for anyone who has experienced pregnancy loss, infertility, or the loss of a baby.

This is a deeply personal part of my story, and one that ultimately played a much bigger role in my journey towards behaviour-led grooming than I could ever have imagined.

If this is a subject that feels too close to home right now, please feel free to skip this investigation and come back to it another time. There is no mystery worth solving at the expense of your own wellbeing.

For those who are ready to continue… let's begin.

So this was me, during lockdown, realising I am twinning with my easter egg, pregnant at the geriatric age of none of your dog gone business for the first time and, unbeknownst to me at the time, just weeks away from the pivotal moment that would ultimately lead me to where I am today.

I am going to skirt around the specifics, partly because a lot of them I have forgotten, and partly because I am at peace with where I am now and don't feel the need to discuss them beyond adding some context to where I am today and why I work the way I do.

Okay, so I don't think there are any spoilers here when I say that the pregnancy never made it to full term.

It was awful. Not helped by the pandemic, or by my then employers.

Here are the key takeaways from the whole experience:

1. I knew diddly squat about my own body.

I felt completely bereft that I had not been told more about what was involved in pregnancy loss. Why was Mother Nature being such a b**ch?!

2. I now understood what trauma actually is.

Not just the physicality of it, but the mental and psychological impact too. I would often liken the experience to a psychological horror movie, where no one listens to you, you don't understand what is happening to you, and you start to wonder if you are actually going insane. Then the movie is played on a loop constantly!

3. I found my voice.

I began to listen to and trust myself. I started to remove myself from situations that didn't serve me and, perhaps most importantly, realised that I was allowed to advocate for myself.

My transition into dog grooming quite literally became my recovery plan, but to what extent, I was yet unaware.

Work and the trauma of what had just happened to me somehow got knotted together. When I was told that there was no heartbeat, I initially carried on working from home; this was totally my choice. I was in a weird limbo, and it was easier to keep doing something I understood and had some control over. Plus, it was lockdown, so it wasn't like there was anything else to do.

In hindsight, this was probably a mistake, but very typical of how the old me would deal with things. I had made the decision that I wanted to miscarry naturally, mainly because I had never been in hospital before and I didn't want this to be my first experience. I neither wanted to take medication to activate the process, as I thought nature taking its course was the best way forward and would give me time to process everything.

Probably another mistake, but part of me clung to the chance that they were wrong.

The longer it went on, the more convinced I became.

More than three weeks later, I realised they were not wrong.

I gave myself three weeks off work to 'get over' it. Another mistake, as after four weeks back at work, it was clear I was far from 'fixed', and I ended up having five months off work.

My eventual return to work also coincided with me starting my practical dog grooming training, which really was the only thing keeping me going. Every Saturday and holiday I spent training, and although the curriculum and assessment were the same for all trainees, I can guarantee my experience of it was very different.

I can only liken this to seeing the hidden 3D picture amongst the psychedelic foreground; once you know how to see it, you can't unsee it.

That is how I felt, seeing all these distressed dogs whilst I was training, that others didn't seem to notice. Yes, they saw the commonly known signs: trembling, vocalising, shaking, etc., but not the more nuanced signs, or when a dog had completely shut down. I could see it happening in front of me and knew only too well how they were feeling.

Somehow, the experience I had been through helped me connect with these struggling dogs. I didn't have the skills and knowledge to best serve these dogs then, but I am certain they noticed the shift in my approach.

I knew what it felt like not to be listened to, to have my needs disregarded and ignored, to be gaslit into feeling like this wasn't really happening. And I too knew what it felt like to shut down when unable to cope.

I knew being firm with them or adding more restraints was not the answer.

Some things you never really 'get over'. Some things can't be 'fixed'. And sometimes, your outlook changes because of this.

It wasn't my intention to become the world's first dog grooming detective, but somehow I just knew that someone had to champion these dogs who couldn't handle the grooming process.

No haircut is worth traumatising a dog for.

Not on my watch!

Until next time...

Yours in curiosity,

Wag-Wagatha Christie 🐾🔎