From Loss to Light: My Journey Through Pregnancy, Postpartum, and Healing Forward

By Rachell M. Dumas, MSN, RN, DNP(c)

The Beginning of a Long Road

I never imagined that my story would begin with loss, nine times over. Each pregnancy carried so much hope, and each loss left me feeling emptier than I thought possible. I went through every emotion a person can feel. Grief. Guilt. Numbness. I questioned my body, my faith, and my purpose. It wasn’t just physical pain. It was the silence that followed. The kind of silence where people mean well but don’t know what to say.

For years, my life revolved around two words: try again. And after nine losses, my miracle finally came. My son, Nazaire. He was my answered prayer, my reason to keep going. But I didn’t know another storm was waiting for me after his birth.

When Joy Meets Crisis

My postpartum period was supposed to be filled with baby smiles and sleepless nights that still felt magical. Instead, I woke up one morning and couldn’t see. What was first brushed off as exhaustion or “just new mom stuff” turned out to be something far more serious. I was diagnosed with Idiopathic Intracranial Hypertension, a rare neurological condition that causes pressure to build around the brain.

Over the next few months, I had two brain surgeries and four stents placed to save my vision and my life. I was terrified, not just for myself, but for my baby. I went from being a nurse caring for patients to being the patient who couldn’t get anyone to truly listen. I was told it was nothing, that it would pass. It didn’t.

I learned quickly that when you are a Black woman in pain, your voice can easily be dismissed. I had to fight for my life and for the chance to keep watching my son grow.

The Nurse Who Became the Patient

As a Registered Nurse, I believed in the power of healthcare. But lying in a hospital bed as a patient changed everything. I saw how easily someone could get lost in the system. I realized how broken it can feel when you’re on the other side, when you know something is wrong, but you keep being told it’s not.

That experience changed me. It showed me that being educated or strong doesn’t protect you from being overlooked. It made me want to create change, not just for myself but for anyone who has ever been made to feel invisible.

The Birth of Two Movements

Out of all that pain came purpose.

A Light After Nine was the first light to shine through. I started it as a safe place for people who have experienced pregnancy and infant loss. It became a space to grieve, to journal, to remember, and to start healing. We host events like Dear Mama, Dear Daddy, and Healing Forward, where parents and loved ones can find comfort and community.

Then came SpeakRx, a health technology app I created to help patients advocate for themselves in real time. It connects patients to resources and provides a way to report incidents before harm occurs. I built the tool I wish I had when I was lying in that bed, begging to be heard.

Healing Forward

My healing didn’t begin when the surgeries ended. It began when I decided to stop hiding my story. Healing, for me, isn’t about going back to who I was before. It’s about embracing who I’ve become because of everything I’ve survived.

Motherhood after loss, illness, and trauma has taught me that healing isn’t always pretty. Some days it’s quiet. Some days it’s loud. But every single day, it’s possible. The light doesn’t erase the darkness; it shines in it. And I’ve learned to live in that space, balancing both.

Every time I speak, every time I hold space for another mom, every time I help a patient feel seen, I’m reminded why I’m still here. Because even after nine losses, I found light.

Why I’m Sharing My Story

I’m sharing my story with PSI because no one should have to suffer in silence after birth. Postpartum healing is not just physical. It’s emotional. It’s mental. And it deserves care, compassion, and community.

If my story reaches even one mother who feels like she’s breaking, I want her to know she’s not alone. You’re not weak for struggling. You’re not failing for needing help. And you are never too far gone to heal.

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