Time Heals Almost Everything

Time heals almost everything.

With the wonderful news still fresh in the air of Mojito Mamas’ new-born baby girl, Savannah; I couldn’t help but notice that, like many women, Caz was not so keen to recount her birth experience in detail.

Not surprising at all given the recency and (lets face it), excruciating pain often associated with child-birth.

Often, it can take many months before mums are ready to actively engage with their birth story.

It takes the slightly muted perspective afforded by time and emotional distance, to adequately portray the intermingling of trauma and joy.

time heals almost everything

Time heals almost everything

Both are evident in the experience of giving birth, but initially, the pain is most definitely omnipresent in the minds of most mums.

But there must be some point where we forget, or at least gloss over the pain? Otherwise, who would consciously choose to have another child?

Think about how how relevant this is for life in general.

The human experience can be filled with painful events and occurrences.

  •             Losing a job
  •             Relationship difficulties and break-ups
  •             Illness or accident
  •             The loss of a loved one

When we are faced with an event that results in considerable suffering or emotional discomfort, it often triggers a spate of questions.

Why did this happen? Why does it hurt so much?  Whats wrong with the universe?
Why me? Why them? Why now?

Why do we have to suffer?!

I still vividly recall my first broken heart.
I was seventeen and had never experienced that depth or intensity of longing, rejection, confusion, hurt and anger.

The pain consumed me.  I had difficulty eating, sleeping or concentrating at school.  I cried. A lot.

I was convinced that I would never love again and found renewed substance in the adage ‘dying from a broken-heart’.

After several months, I still did not understand why anyone would ever knowingly choose to to fall in love if “this” was a potential consequence.

But life moved on. I picked myself up.
I grew, changed, matured and eventually I fell in love again.
And by then?

My pain had taken on a different meaning.

I felt grateful for what I had learned in that early relationship. I was thankful for the experience of having loved, even if it was unrequited.

In effect, my perspective of suffering was altered. I was now able to find positive meaning and significance from what had previously been a wholly painful event.

Just like giving birth!

Immediately after the event, there may be stinging, smarting and a slight sense of horror.
But soon after, the pain slowly dissolves into the back recesses of our minds.

Our focus shifts to the perfection of our healthy new-born miracle and we slowly learn to move on.

Several years later, you may find that you are no longer able to readily connect with that pain. It’s almost (almost!) as if it happened to someone else.

As Caz previously mentioned – ‘This too shall pass’

A simple but powerful message that we can mentally recite whenever we are in the thick of anguish and distress.

Painful memories can morph into another one of life’s varied and meaningful experiences.

Maybe not immediately, or tomorrow and maybe not even this year.

But if we are fortunate enough to move forward and daring enough to persist ~

Time heals almost everything. Give time time (Regina Brett)

Kirri is  a life-coach, mummy to three, and founder of Happy Mums At Home.  She encourages mums to make themselves a priority in their own lives every day, so that they can be more present with their children and lead happier, more fulfilling lives.  You can find her on Facebook.


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  • Grace

    *sigh* another great, though-provoking piece, Kirri.
    I remember my first heartbreak and truly wondering if I was ever to have one morning when I could wake up and not think of him and not roll out of bed with a heavy heart.

    10 years later I am happily married with gorgeous twin boys.

    Yes. Indeed. “This too shall pass”


    • kirri

      The memory of your first heartbreak….so vivid even after so many years. Crazy huh? Almost as crazy as being told you are going to have twins. Or maybe not.

      Thanks for your kind words Grace..as always.


  • Jess WhoaMamma

    Ah Kirri, another wonderful post. My first pregnancy resulted in twins who were born via a blissful caesarian. Fast forward 16 months later and I was having a VBAC giving birth to my littlest girl. All I can remember was 24 hours of blur and thinking that I was going to die from the excruciating amount of pain I was in popping out 4 kilos of beautiful from out of my very stretched and sore nether-regions. The pain of heartbreak was the worst when I lost my Dad suddenly 6 years ago. I was crying in bed one night and I literally thought my heart was going to break from sorrow. The greater the love, the greater the pain it would seem xx


    • kirri

      Aww Jess – so we both have twins and we both lost our dad in the past decade….I couldn’t agree more with the sentiment “the greater the love, the greater the pain”.
      Im so feeling you right now x


  • Penny

    What a brilliant post and so perfectly relevant to Caz and her blog.

    I can completely relate to this Kirri. A birth and a broken heart being healed by time. It’s a great comparison.


    • kirri

      Thanks Penny. Writing for Mojito Mother is something I have been wanting to do for some time now – I love the space she has created here 🙂


  • Terry

    As an avid follower and, may I say, friend of Kirri, I am compelled to comment in an otherwise rather feminine environment.

    So apart from thanking you, Kirri for wonderful words and a touching commentary…two things:

    Pain – while we ‘men’ are wholly unqualified to comment on the pain of child birth, something that has always struck me is that actually pain has no memory. I am of an age when aches and pains (minor admittedly) are with me all the time. Not only can I not recall pains from other times, I cannot imagine what it feels like to be without my current daily pains.

    Why me? – the thoughts of “why me” that appear after almost any turn in fortune (or heart) in our lives, is natural. But if it takes time to answer, it also takes a belief in our own creativity. Why did that good thing happen? Because I am worth it. But why did that bad thing happen? If I reconcile that I have not done something so bad that I deserved the bad event, it must be pre-payment for something amazing that is going to happen in the future.

    I hope I haven’t dragged this too far away from the sentiments of a great article, but your words move me to write my thoughts too…:)



  • kirri

    You know what….it takes a brave man to venture into some of these more “womanly” arenas and I want to thank you for making that effort. Truly!

    Im not looking forward to the potential daily experience of aches and pains but I am looking forward to gaining the wisdom afforded by years and hope that I will be able to share that as unreservedly as you Terry.

    You sound like budding zen master. I like that!


  • Broken Hearted Mummy

    Time will never heal my heart that has been broken by the loss of my son 5.5 years ago. He was 11 years old and very healthy….
    There is no rhyme or reason why this happened to me.

    And I want to add that I have twins too!!
    Two sets actually.

    Plus this is my first time to your blog.

    Great post.


    • Caz

      I am so sorry for your loss I could never imagine the pain you must feel.


  • kirri

    Two sets of twins? Amazing – wow!

    I hesitate to comment on the loss of your son, simply because it is far out of my experience and quite unfathomable…. I imagine that there is no greater loss and appreciate that the grief must be an ongoing battle.

    Thank you for your comment.


    • Broken Hearted Mummy

      Yes two sets of naturally conceived twins! B/G and B/B…

      The grief is a huge rollercoaster ride.


  • Lina@MothersLoveLetters

    Hi Kirri, Hi Caz

    I know that each birth is so incredibly individual, unique and personal.

    My birthing experience with my son, was simply amazing. So beautiful. Not something I could do every day, but a memory I look back on with pure gratitude. It was divine, a deeply spiritual experience.

    I wrote a letter to my son, called The Purpose of Your Pain, when he was 10 weeks old. You may be interested.

    Hope this helps: http://mothersloveletters.com/the-purpose-of-your-pain/



  • Sheila Kartika

    What a nice article. Found it at the right time when all I need is encouragement. I love the quotes
    Time heals almost everything. Give time time (Regina Brett)


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