Beyond the Story
The experience of reproductive medical trauma or traumatic birth, especially when it is frightening, complicated, or ends in loss, can leave imprints that are not easily put into words. Some people feel drawn to share their story, hoping that words might bring clarity or relief. Others keep the story at a distance, because speaking it feels too raw, too overwhelming, or simply unnecessary. Both responses are understandable, they’re ways of coping in the wake of an experience that wasn’t safe.
At the same time, trauma can leave behind symptoms that don’t always match how someone talks, or doesn’t talk, about their experience. For some, memories or body sensations intrude unexpectedly, as though the moment is happening all over again. For others, there’s a pulling away from reminders, a sense of going numb, or a difficulty feeling connected. These patterns can appear regardless of whether someone retells the story many times or avoids it altogether.
The Body’s Implicit Narrative
Labour and Delivery trauma is carried not only in memory but also in the body. While explicit memory captures what can be narrated, implicit memory lives in sensations, impulses, and emotions that often don’t as easily find words. A glance exchanged in the delivery room, the sterile chill of a gown, the exact moment realization set in that plans were no longer one’s own, all of these can lodge in the nervous system. They are not footnotes but embodied moments of meaning.
Sensorimotor Psychotherapy and other somatic approaches invite us to slow down and be alongside this implicit narrative. It is often here, beneath the immediate verbal story, that the deepest layers of trauma remain waiting to be acknowledged.

Truncated Defense Responses
One of the key insights from somatic trauma work is the idea of truncated defense responses. When faced with threat or helplessness, our bodies prepare to act, to push away, to cry out, to protect. But in medical environments, especially during labor and delivery, those impulses are often impossible to complete. The hand that wanted to push away had to stay still. The words that rose in the throat never came out. The urge to leave the room was not an option.
What happens to these impulses that never reached completion? They do not simply vanish. They can remain suspended in the nervous system, creating a residue of tension, fear, or collapse. Later, this can shape how someone feels in their body, how they trust (or don’t trust) themselves or others, and how much freedom they feel to live fully.
How Sensorimotor Psychotherapy Supports Healing
Sensorimotor Psychotherapy provides a way of working gently with these embodied fragments. Instead of diving into the full narrative, therapy may pause with a single moment. A tightening jaw when recalling a nurse’s expression.. a short, held breath, a hand that slightly moves, tears that surface.
In the safety of the therapeutic relationship, these signals can be tracked and explored at a tolerable pace. Sometimes the body is given space to complete what it could not: to push, to say no, to take a fuller breath, to emote. Other times, the work is simply about noticing sensations with compassionate curiosity, allowing meaning to emerge that was previously hidden.
Through this process, the nervous system begins to update. The story shifts from one of being frozen or helpless into a story of agency, coherence, and resilience. This does not require someone to retell the entire birth story. What matters is that the body’s implicit memory is finally given attention.
The Healing Power of Relationship
Techniques matter, but in Sensorimotor Psychotherapy, relationship is central. Trauma thrives in isolation; healing grows in connection. The therapist’s role is not only to guide attention but to offer a steady, attuned presence. When someone feels seen, heard, and safe enough to explore what was once overwhelming, the nervous system can reorganize itself. Beliefs that crystallized around the trauma —“I failed,” “I’m powerless,” “I can’t trust my body”— begin to soften. In their place, new meanings emerge: “I can notice. I can choose. I can heal.”
Beyond Words Alone
Telling the story of a traumatic birth may be healing for some, while silence feels safer for others. Both are understandable responses. But neither words nor silence alone can always resolve what remains unprocessed in the body.
Sensorimotor Psychotherapy offers another pathway: one that honors the implicit narrative carried in sensation, movement, and impulse. In slowing down, in listening to the body’s language, what once felt stuck can begin to move. And in that movement, new meaning, and new freedom, can be found.
Author’s note: I am a Registered Psychologist, Certified Sensorimotor Psychotherapist, and SP Certified Consultant, listed with the Sensorimotor Psychotherapy Institute. My perspective is informed by this training and affiliation.
Somatic psychotherapy has its roots in Hakomi, a method developed in the 1970s by Ron Kurtz that centered mindfulness and the body as gateways into unconscious experience. Pat Ogden was one of the co-founders of the Hakomi Institute and later developed Sensorimotor Psychotherapy integrating somatic awareness with trauma and attachment theory. Around the same time, Peter Levine was developing Somatic Experiencing, another influential body-based trauma approach.
This post is for general educational purposes only and does not constitute psychological advice or therapy. It is not intended to replace personalized care from a licensed mental health professional in Canada. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, speaking with a trained professional may help you better navigate this experience and protect your own well-being.
Suggested Reading for Clinicians: Trauma and the Body: A Neurobiologically Informed Approach To Clinical Practice by Pat Ogden, PhD; Kekuni Minton, PhD; and Dr. Claire Pain,
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