I go back to therapy next month.
After giving birth and going to a few therapy sessions I decided to take a break from therapy. Because all it was doing was wiping me out and making me cry more. I know that I had feelings that needed to be explored, post-partum-ly, but... it wasn't helping. So a break I took. Am I going back to therapy for good? Probably not. A. it is expensive for a woman making 1/2 her salary on maternity leave. There are 101 more things I could spend my money on... like bills. B. I am still not in the mood for therapy. I don't want to talk about it all. I don't want to explore my feelings. [At least not there].
When I left therapy - when I decided to take a break - I found that I was feeling very angry with the whole therapeutic process. I've spent 6 years in therapy. I was angry with it because it was my involvement in my own healing process that led me to want a natural birth... led me to believe I was powerful enough and capable enough to give birth that way. I know now that it is more complex than this and that my anger at the process is maybe a bit misguided and that anger probably needs to be explored. But... I don't want to go back, so I won't. I mean, I will go back for that May appointment, but I am not going back for good.
Okay that is all.
P.S. Taking a break has been a good thing - I have witnessed myself dealing and growing and integrating... and I have been quite proud at my self-awareness.
* * * * *
In other news, Spring has sprung. Lovely lovely lovely spring. Soon I will sink my toes into green grass.
Showing posts with label birth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birth. Show all posts
Monday, April 7, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
What is bonding anyway?
At Easter dinner yesterday my cousin, my mom, and I were talking about breastfeeding. My mom said she believed that Mother Nature invented breastfeeding to help mama and baby bond. My cousin was saying that she used to worry those days when her little one (now 18 - where does the time go?) would seem to be latched on to her 24-7. Probably a growth spurt. She agreed with my mom and said "yeah some pretty wonderful bonding came out of those 24-7 days."
I've always been sad that I didn't get to see (or touch or talk to) to little C when she was born. A got to see her in the moments after she was born when her apgar was 2 and they were "bagging" her - the midwife brought her in to the OR in case C didn't make it (I was knocked out and A was in the waiting room during the surgery). Then C was whisked away, quickly. A saw her again an hour or so later when she was hooked to machines and monitors and in an isolette. But couldn't touch her. I got to see her the next morning - some 12 hours after she was born.
"They" say that first little while after birth is so important in terms of bonding. I still wonder what we all missed out on - the three of us. I've also worried that we aren't "properly bonded." Whatever that means. I look for clues to prove that we aren't bonded - I did that a lot in the first few months. Clues, like: I can't seem to console her right now. This spirals into: she finds no comfort in my presence, therefore we are not bonded, and I suck. Seriously I've taken it to this level - and I'm a fairly confident woman with a relatively good self-esteem (but suddenly I suck).
When does bonding happen? I mean, I agree with my cousin and my mom. Those 24-7 days are bonding. Working together, mama and baby, to figure out how to breastfeed is pretty bonding. Being up in the 3am silence feeding her is bonding. But what about those first few moments after birth - what did I miss?
I've always been sad that I didn't get to see (or touch or talk to) to little C when she was born. A got to see her in the moments after she was born when her apgar was 2 and they were "bagging" her - the midwife brought her in to the OR in case C didn't make it (I was knocked out and A was in the waiting room during the surgery). Then C was whisked away, quickly. A saw her again an hour or so later when she was hooked to machines and monitors and in an isolette. But couldn't touch her. I got to see her the next morning - some 12 hours after she was born.
"They" say that first little while after birth is so important in terms of bonding. I still wonder what we all missed out on - the three of us. I've also worried that we aren't "properly bonded." Whatever that means. I look for clues to prove that we aren't bonded - I did that a lot in the first few months. Clues, like: I can't seem to console her right now. This spirals into: she finds no comfort in my presence, therefore we are not bonded, and I suck. Seriously I've taken it to this level - and I'm a fairly confident woman with a relatively good self-esteem (but suddenly I suck).
When does bonding happen? I mean, I agree with my cousin and my mom. Those 24-7 days are bonding. Working together, mama and baby, to figure out how to breastfeed is pretty bonding. Being up in the 3am silence feeding her is bonding. But what about those first few moments after birth - what did I miss?
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Bitter Sweet
C turned 6 months today. I swear she grew a bunch overnight! She was born 6 months ago at 6:50pm. I didn't know I had a baby girl until I woke up at 10 to 8pm - well after that when the nurse in recovery found out and then told me. I had C via c-section and I was under a general anaesthetic. My heart hurts that I was not there to welcome her to the world. Even more that her baba couldn't be there to welcome her. I feel tremendous sadness about it all today. We looked at the clock at various points and said, 6 months ago right now contractions started, the midwife came, water broke, left for the hospital, she was born, etc.
Last week I was aware of the intense fear I felt when they rolled me in to the OR - feeling contractions and freaking scared of the general and the knife and for my baby's life.
Today it is sadness.
And I am so happy she is here, so pleased, so in love, so in awe. She is everything. Everything to me. My heart aches with these joyful feelings too.
Last week I was aware of the intense fear I felt when they rolled me in to the OR - feeling contractions and freaking scared of the general and the knife and for my baby's life.
Today it is sadness.
And I am so happy she is here, so pleased, so in love, so in awe. She is everything. Everything to me. My heart aches with these joyful feelings too.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Herstory Repeats Itself
So I am reading this book on recovering emotionally from complicated birth and I am in like chapter 3 or 4. The author talks about history repeating itself. Or in this case herstory repeating itself. Apparently the idea is that we are inclined to give birth much in the way we were born. Or, in the very least there are common themes. Birth as narrative? Or, we do what we know.
The author talks about rebirthing work. This is where you combine breath work with hypnotherapy and you go back to your own birth. When I was somewhere in the middle of ttc I had the opportunity to do rebirthing work. To this day I still find it all dubious - if that makes sense. I mean, really(?) you can go back to your own birth?! When I went back, I found myself having a hard time being born and feeling sluggish and afraid that I was going to die.
Herstory repeating itself.
My mom opted for a natural hospital birth in 1972. I was her third. She's been through it before. Laboured at home. Was only in the hospital for 2 hours before I was born just after 9am. The night before, labour had started and her doctor told her to have a glass of wine to take the edge off. She drank an entire bottle of cherry liquor. She tells the story and finds it funny. [By the way, my mom is not a drinker at all ever].
So that explains the sluggishness and the fear about dying. I was drunk while trying to be born.
Fast forward to September 2007. I know that just before the general anesthesia kicked in I was afraid we were both going to die. I'm sure when the anesthesia traveled through the cord baby C started to feel the effects and quite possibly thought she was going to die. She was already dealing with thick meconium, and had stopped moving. She came out needing resuscitation.
Needless to say, I feel horrible that she had to go through that. That is a whole other post.
Prior to giving birth, I had done some work in therapy around my own birth memories. But really gave it no thought as I prepared for birth. I had worked on pain management techniques and visualisation. But I never really addressed the way my own birth shaped how I felt about giving birth. I have to say I went into it feeling confident about my body's intuition and wisdom. I also felt confident that baby knows what to do too. My goal was to go with the flow. My plan was a home birth. Perhaps I was avoiding the memories of my own birth. But it never seemed relevant.
This is me reflecting and making sense, coming to terms and making peace.
Now what do I do with this idea of herstory repeating itself? What do I do now that I can link my own birth with C's birth? Can I somehow make it so C doesn't have to give birth the way she was born?
The author talks about rebirthing work. This is where you combine breath work with hypnotherapy and you go back to your own birth. When I was somewhere in the middle of ttc I had the opportunity to do rebirthing work. To this day I still find it all dubious - if that makes sense. I mean, really(?) you can go back to your own birth?! When I went back, I found myself having a hard time being born and feeling sluggish and afraid that I was going to die.
Herstory repeating itself.
My mom opted for a natural hospital birth in 1972. I was her third. She's been through it before. Laboured at home. Was only in the hospital for 2 hours before I was born just after 9am. The night before, labour had started and her doctor told her to have a glass of wine to take the edge off. She drank an entire bottle of cherry liquor. She tells the story and finds it funny. [By the way, my mom is not a drinker at all ever].
So that explains the sluggishness and the fear about dying. I was drunk while trying to be born.
Fast forward to September 2007. I know that just before the general anesthesia kicked in I was afraid we were both going to die. I'm sure when the anesthesia traveled through the cord baby C started to feel the effects and quite possibly thought she was going to die. She was already dealing with thick meconium, and had stopped moving. She came out needing resuscitation.
Needless to say, I feel horrible that she had to go through that. That is a whole other post.
Prior to giving birth, I had done some work in therapy around my own birth memories. But really gave it no thought as I prepared for birth. I had worked on pain management techniques and visualisation. But I never really addressed the way my own birth shaped how I felt about giving birth. I have to say I went into it feeling confident about my body's intuition and wisdom. I also felt confident that baby knows what to do too. My goal was to go with the flow. My plan was a home birth. Perhaps I was avoiding the memories of my own birth. But it never seemed relevant.
This is me reflecting and making sense, coming to terms and making peace.
Now what do I do with this idea of herstory repeating itself? What do I do now that I can link my own birth with C's birth? Can I somehow make it so C doesn't have to give birth the way she was born?
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
When and How
For over a year my mom has had pain in her shoulder. Originally doctors thought it had to do with her diabetes (adult onset). When the pain became unbearable in the last few weeks, she went to her doctor. The MRI showed something and she was referred to an oncologist. A biopsy this morning confirmed cancer.
Myeloma.
From just outside the hospital, my dad called on his cell to say it's good news but not 100% good news. Good news because it can be treated and controlled. The bad news - he didn't share the bad news - I had to g0o0g1e for the bad news. Specifically, there is no cure and most people die within 3 to 5 years of diagnosis.
* * * * *
Two nights ago - after hearing she may have cancer - I had an intense flash back of giving birth to C. Before I was knocked out. In my flash back I recalled the intense fear that I was about to die and so was my baby (who had stopped moving earlier in the day). Everything moved so fast once my water broke and we saw just how thick it was with meconium. I honestly had no time to acknowledge my fear(s), between that and the contractions. We had to get out of our house and to the hospital. Period.
Two nights ago I cried myself to sleep - quietly, so as not to wake baby C in the other room - and A was in bed next to me, fetching tissues and listening to me whisper about my feelings.
I am afraid to lose my mom.
When I was in labour at the hospital I remember being surprised at the sudden realisation that I wanted my mom there. And the next day, when she was there I felt so happy. And safe.
* * * * *
We all know that at some point we will lose our parents. I have wondered when and how. This cancer is most likely the way that I will lose my mom.
* * * * *
Something else about the birth: I learned that random scary bad sh*t can and does happen. I think I was crying about that as well the other night. Kind of like my miscarriage before I got pregnant with C. It felt like initiation. I was no longer innocent. I still feel so pessimistic now as a result. While pregnant with C, I had a hard time settling in and just being. Because random scary bad sh*t happens. The way the birth went... random scary bad sh*t.
I have to remind myself that I survived. Because I don't want to be a victim. But I have to say that RSBS is always an option for me in ways it was not before ttc.
Myeloma.
From just outside the hospital, my dad called on his cell to say it's good news but not 100% good news. Good news because it can be treated and controlled. The bad news - he didn't share the bad news - I had to g0o0g1e for the bad news. Specifically, there is no cure and most people die within 3 to 5 years of diagnosis.
* * * * *
Two nights ago - after hearing she may have cancer - I had an intense flash back of giving birth to C. Before I was knocked out. In my flash back I recalled the intense fear that I was about to die and so was my baby (who had stopped moving earlier in the day). Everything moved so fast once my water broke and we saw just how thick it was with meconium. I honestly had no time to acknowledge my fear(s), between that and the contractions. We had to get out of our house and to the hospital. Period.
Two nights ago I cried myself to sleep - quietly, so as not to wake baby C in the other room - and A was in bed next to me, fetching tissues and listening to me whisper about my feelings.
I am afraid to lose my mom.
When I was in labour at the hospital I remember being surprised at the sudden realisation that I wanted my mom there. And the next day, when she was there I felt so happy. And safe.
* * * * *
We all know that at some point we will lose our parents. I have wondered when and how. This cancer is most likely the way that I will lose my mom.
* * * * *
Something else about the birth: I learned that random scary bad sh*t can and does happen. I think I was crying about that as well the other night. Kind of like my miscarriage before I got pregnant with C. It felt like initiation. I was no longer innocent. I still feel so pessimistic now as a result. While pregnant with C, I had a hard time settling in and just being. Because random scary bad sh*t happens. The way the birth went... random scary bad sh*t.
I have to remind myself that I survived. Because I don't want to be a victim. But I have to say that RSBS is always an option for me in ways it was not before ttc.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Must Share
I have purposely avoided sharing photos in this blog, but I couldn't resist when it came to this one:
She is about a week old here. I look at the photo, I look at her now, I look at the way she fit in my hand, and I look at her again - she's grown!
I had this photo made into a black & white 8x10.
* * * * * *
Finished reading chapter 2 of the healing birth trauma book, this morning. It was about ptsd and birth. I could relate. I want to post some of my thoughts here, but I am a bit overwhemed with the information.
But I will say this, I went into the birth (even ttc and pregnancy) truly knowing that my body knows what to do. I worry now that I have lost all faith in my body. I hope I can get it back.
She is about a week old here. I look at the photo, I look at her now, I look at the way she fit in my hand, and I look at her again - she's grown!
I had this photo made into a black & white 8x10.
* * * * * *
Finished reading chapter 2 of the healing birth trauma book, this morning. It was about ptsd and birth. I could relate. I want to post some of my thoughts here, but I am a bit overwhemed with the information.
But I will say this, I went into the birth (even ttc and pregnancy) truly knowing that my body knows what to do. I worry now that I have lost all faith in my body. I hope I can get it back.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Can I Be Both?
I am reading a self help book about recovering from a traumatic birth.
I read Chapter 1 this morning before C woke up.
I used my highlighter like it was a school project or something.
I want to feel better. I want to incorporate the experience and the scar from the unplanned c-section and the sense that I somehow failed.
I wanted to welcome C into the world calmly, gently, and with ease. Why did that not happen?
People tell me that I should be happy that C is here, alive and well, and to nevermind the birth and how she got here.
Can I be both? Happy - ecstatic, even - that she is here, alive and well... AND sad that things didn't go as planned?
Because today I am both.
I read Chapter 1 this morning before C woke up.
I used my highlighter like it was a school project or something.
I want to feel better. I want to incorporate the experience and the scar from the unplanned c-section and the sense that I somehow failed.
I wanted to welcome C into the world calmly, gently, and with ease. Why did that not happen?
People tell me that I should be happy that C is here, alive and well, and to nevermind the birth and how she got here.
Can I be both? Happy - ecstatic, even - that she is here, alive and well... AND sad that things didn't go as planned?
Because today I am both.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
What We Said We'd Do
We are cloth diapering and have been a few weeks.
When we first brought C home I was too overwhelmed to cloth diaper. I was pumping. I was feeling blue. I was exhausted. Plus, little C did not fit into the cloth diapers we have. She had to grow into them - bless her.
I didn't really do my cloth diaper research and didn't know that there were so many hi-tech cloth diapers out there. We bought ours toward the end of my pregnancy at the local big-ish department store. They were made in Canada and they were higher tech than the ones we wore as kids.
Problem is they get wet right through so quickly that we are changing diapers all day. And she doesn't sleep in them - disposables for night time. Disposables for going out time too.
But cloth diapering is no longer overwhelming.
Here is the thing I've noticed about things not quite going to plan (i.e.: the birth), I have been so close to giving up on the other things I wanted to do. I think it is a psychological thing. The birth didn't go to plan so nothing else is or will. I was so close to giving up on breastfeeding - I think partly because of this (faulty) line of thinking.
I remember right after the birth feeling so sad - and partner A said to me, let's do the things we said we'd do. She meant take tiny C for a stroll in the park (I didn't even want to do that).
Cloth diapering happens to be one of the things we said we'd do. So doing it is a sign to me that all is well in the land of PPD and new mamahood.
We happen to already own several diapers in the next size up - I am going to trade those diapers in for more high tech, sleep through the night, go out and about in diapers. I am open to recommendations.
When we first brought C home I was too overwhelmed to cloth diaper. I was pumping. I was feeling blue. I was exhausted. Plus, little C did not fit into the cloth diapers we have. She had to grow into them - bless her.
I didn't really do my cloth diaper research and didn't know that there were so many hi-tech cloth diapers out there. We bought ours toward the end of my pregnancy at the local big-ish department store. They were made in Canada and they were higher tech than the ones we wore as kids.
Problem is they get wet right through so quickly that we are changing diapers all day. And she doesn't sleep in them - disposables for night time. Disposables for going out time too.
But cloth diapering is no longer overwhelming.
Here is the thing I've noticed about things not quite going to plan (i.e.: the birth), I have been so close to giving up on the other things I wanted to do. I think it is a psychological thing. The birth didn't go to plan so nothing else is or will. I was so close to giving up on breastfeeding - I think partly because of this (faulty) line of thinking.
I remember right after the birth feeling so sad - and partner A said to me, let's do the things we said we'd do. She meant take tiny C for a stroll in the park (I didn't even want to do that).
Cloth diapering happens to be one of the things we said we'd do. So doing it is a sign to me that all is well in the land of PPD and new mamahood.
We happen to already own several diapers in the next size up - I am going to trade those diapers in for more high tech, sleep through the night, go out and about in diapers. I am open to recommendations.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
No Matter How
I once believed that if I gave birth naturally and non-medicated then and only then would I feel powerful and empowered. Giving birth for me became a medical event. I didn't do it naturally. And while I feel as though I've missed out, I have to say that I am still powerful. Giving birth - growing a baby for 9 months - is powerful. I don't care how it's done. If I continue to believe what I used to believe, then I am not allowing myself to see the courage and strength I possessed that day and in the days that followed. Nor am I allowing myself to see the amazing intuitive sense I had about my body and my baby. No matter how it is done it is a miracle. It is powerful sh*t.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
I just knew
After the birth I felt I'd lost my connection with my body - that intuitive sense that I could give birth naturally. I worried that maybe I never had that sense. I guess because I'd never had the opportunity to give birth according to my plan. But reflecting the other day I realised that I was intuitive - I was connected - I did have that sense. I knew something was up. And that morning, when I realised that my baby wasn't moving, I could feel that something was up. I just knew.
I used to think the only way I'd feel strong/ powerful/ intuitive/ wise is if I gave birth that way. Now I am seeing that the intuition was always there. I gave birth. My baby is alive today because I just knew it wasn't going according to plan, it wasn't going to happen at home and I was going to need some help.
I used to think the only way I'd feel strong/ powerful/ intuitive/ wise is if I gave birth that way. Now I am seeing that the intuition was always there. I gave birth. My baby is alive today because I just knew it wasn't going according to plan, it wasn't going to happen at home and I was going to need some help.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Shifting
We met with the developmental resources people this past Thursday. Actually it was a woman and she came to our house. C is looking good and meeting milestones. We will meet with the woman a few more times in C's first year, and then the case will most likely be closed.
I was pretty nervous that morning.
I had to tell C's birth story - or at least the parts that necessitated the developmental resources woman coming out to assess C.
So yeah I had to share the hard stuff with this woman. And I didn't cry. Believe me I have cried so many times about all of this - to the nurse at the PPD group, to the other women in the PPD group, to my mom, to my therapist, to my best friend over the phone, to my midwife, to my partner, and in the 3am darkness as I fed C... I have felt shame, guilt, anger and just plain sadness. But this time when I told it, I felt pretty calm. I don't think I was numb or removed, because I remember for a fleeting moment feeling proud for us for being so strong and courageous.
I was pretty nervous that morning.
I had to tell C's birth story - or at least the parts that necessitated the developmental resources woman coming out to assess C.
- On the morning of the day C was born she wasn't moving in utero
- When my water broke it was dark with meconium
- She wasn't recovering well when my uterus contracted
- Emergency c-section
- I had to go under general anaesthetic because my intake bloodwork indicated infection
- Her 1 minute apgar was 1 or 2 (at 5 minutes it was 8)
- She had meconium in her lungs and tummy
- She was in NICU for 5 days
So yeah I had to share the hard stuff with this woman. And I didn't cry. Believe me I have cried so many times about all of this - to the nurse at the PPD group, to the other women in the PPD group, to my mom, to my therapist, to my best friend over the phone, to my midwife, to my partner, and in the 3am darkness as I fed C... I have felt shame, guilt, anger and just plain sadness. But this time when I told it, I felt pretty calm. I don't think I was numb or removed, because I remember for a fleeting moment feeling proud for us for being so strong and courageous.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Safe in my Arms
We had 4 month shots yesterday. C cried. But not as bad as the 2 month shots. I got to hold her during the shots this time. Maybe that helped. She was much easier to console this time.
I have to admit, I pay attention to how long it takes for her to be consoled by me. I am almost embarrassed to admit that. The reason I do this is because I want her to feel safe with me. Partner A says she has no reason to not feel safe - I know this is true. However, I sometimes think (worry) that because of her difficult birth and her not seeing me for 12+ hours after she was born that she doesn't find comfort in my arms. That we didn't bond.
I am learning that bonding is an on-going process (not just in the 2 minutes after the birth). And in my heart (which is the best place for this kind of thing) I know we've bonded. She does feel safe in my arms.
I used to think that I would've given anything to re-do the birth... given anything so that I could've been there to welcome her into the world, to see her in those minutes that followed the birth. I am quietly accepting that things went the way they did.
I have to admit, I pay attention to how long it takes for her to be consoled by me. I am almost embarrassed to admit that. The reason I do this is because I want her to feel safe with me. Partner A says she has no reason to not feel safe - I know this is true. However, I sometimes think (worry) that because of her difficult birth and her not seeing me for 12+ hours after she was born that she doesn't find comfort in my arms. That we didn't bond.
I am learning that bonding is an on-going process (not just in the 2 minutes after the birth). And in my heart (which is the best place for this kind of thing) I know we've bonded. She does feel safe in my arms.
I used to think that I would've given anything to re-do the birth... given anything so that I could've been there to welcome her into the world, to see her in those minutes that followed the birth. I am quietly accepting that things went the way they did.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Milestones
C turned 4 months today. Today she rolled over - several times - then figured out how to get her arms out in front of her - then pushed up her upper body - several times.
Today she put her toes into her mouth - is that a milestone?
She was also chewing on toys, pacifier, fingers, etc. Teething, perhaps?
She is grabbing at toys now too. Not always efficiently. But grabbing nonetheless.
Most of this happened overnight. Literally.
Incidentally, we are meeting with Developmental Resources people at some point, soon. They are going to assess whether C is meeting milestones. There was some concern about oxygen to her brain due to the meconium in her lungs at birth. Doctors did do an MRI when she was a few days old and said she was "normal," but Developmental Resources scheduled a follow-up anyway. Makes sense. So we shall see.
Today she put her toes into her mouth - is that a milestone?
She was also chewing on toys, pacifier, fingers, etc. Teething, perhaps?
She is grabbing at toys now too. Not always efficiently. But grabbing nonetheless.
Most of this happened overnight. Literally.
Incidentally, we are meeting with Developmental Resources people at some point, soon. They are going to assess whether C is meeting milestones. There was some concern about oxygen to her brain due to the meconium in her lungs at birth. Doctors did do an MRI when she was a few days old and said she was "normal," but Developmental Resources scheduled a follow-up anyway. Makes sense. So we shall see.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Let Go and Ask For
Last year's Solstice was a gathering of wimmin at my house. We did a group meditation, we lit candles, we shared our wishes for the up-coming year, we sat in darkness before we sat in the light. It was a lovely gathering. I didn't know it at the time but I was pregnant. Very newly pregnant. "Family" was one of my wishes for the up-coming year.
Solstice this evening was the three of us grocery shopping. Partner A wore Baby C in a carrier. We filled the cart. Bought a few extras for the holiday. It was a lovely evening.
I plan in the future as well to celebrate Solstice somehow like last year. I plan to include C in that celebration. I plan to build tradition around it. Solstice is very much a part of the holiday season - in fact, it's a very nice part. A real chance to reflect. To let go and ask for.
So what do I let go? I let go of my hard feelings around the birth. (It is not that single event that defines me as a woman, as a mother, as C's mommy - it is that event plus all the time that follows and even the time before that event).
What do I ask for? I ask for the ability to stay open to the love that surrounds me, the power of forgiveness, and more chances to go with the flow. I ask for the lightness that comes with letting go.
And now the days get longer. Soon we will be strolling through the park enjoying fresh air and sunshine.
Solstice this evening was the three of us grocery shopping. Partner A wore Baby C in a carrier. We filled the cart. Bought a few extras for the holiday. It was a lovely evening.
I plan in the future as well to celebrate Solstice somehow like last year. I plan to include C in that celebration. I plan to build tradition around it. Solstice is very much a part of the holiday season - in fact, it's a very nice part. A real chance to reflect. To let go and ask for.
So what do I let go? I let go of my hard feelings around the birth. (It is not that single event that defines me as a woman, as a mother, as C's mommy - it is that event plus all the time that follows and even the time before that event).
What do I ask for? I ask for the ability to stay open to the love that surrounds me, the power of forgiveness, and more chances to go with the flow. I ask for the lightness that comes with letting go.
And now the days get longer. Soon we will be strolling through the park enjoying fresh air and sunshine.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
I've missed out
Some stuff that I saw on TV today and some things I read in some blog have triggered me around the birth experience. I wanted to have a natural med-free birth... actually I wanted an at home water birth. That didn't happen. I had an emergency c-section and I was under general anaesthetic.
I feel like I've missed out on "giving birth" because I didn't get to push my baby out.
And don't even get me started on how I feel about being asleep when she was born, or that my partner couldn't be in the room, or that we didn't have skin to skin right away.
I wanted to bring her into the world gently and calmly.
I talk about this a lot in therapy. And I am starting to feel like I want to - need to - just let it go. Let it go. Let it go. Let it go. See the big picture. Healthy happy baby. Family. My family.
I feel like I've missed out on "giving birth" because I didn't get to push my baby out.
And don't even get me started on how I feel about being asleep when she was born, or that my partner couldn't be in the room, or that we didn't have skin to skin right away.
I wanted to bring her into the world gently and calmly.
I talk about this a lot in therapy. And I am starting to feel like I want to - need to - just let it go. Let it go. Let it go. Let it go. See the big picture. Healthy happy baby. Family. My family.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Post-Therapy Reflection
The birth experience was really hard for me and I keep going back to it in therapy.
I wanted to bring Carys into the world gently and calmly. I wanted to be present when she came in to the world. I wanted A (my partner) there. To greet her, for us both to marvel at the birth of our daughter in those moments after she came into the world. I wanted to hold her and nurse her right away.
I had an easy pregnancy once things got going and I surrendered to it. I felt amazingly healthy. I ate well. I moved my body. I relaxed often. I loved to feel her kicking. I loved watching body change. I loved sharing this experience with my partner.
Together we practiced hypnobirthing - self hypnosis to manage pain during birth. We had to do meditation together nightly as part of the practice. We chose music for the birthing that would have a calming effect on me.
With my group week after week I talked about how I wanted a calm birth, no intervention, non-medicated. And everyone in my group supported me in that.
L (my therapist) reminds me how I like to be in control. I like to plan. I make lists. I organize my world. I make things predictable. She tells me that you can't control birth (like I couldn't control getting pregnant)... and I can't control my child. Carys' path involves being born her way, the way she was born. Carys is already on her path and proved that to her mom and baba in a major way on September 8.
Because I like to control, however, I have started to blame myself for how the birth went. What did I do wrong? What is wrong with my body? Was it because when the contractions came they were so hard and so fast that I got scared? Did I scare my little baby because I couldn't cope? Or was it something that I did or didn't do before that day - something I did in the pregnancy? Because blaming myself is about feeling responsible and feeling responsible is about control, in this situation anyway.
And if I am to accept that I am not responsible for how the birth went that day; If I am to accept that shit sometimes happens no matter what you plan and practice for, then I have to accept that the world is a very unpredictable place. Very unpredictable. Where little baby girls are born without heartbeats and not breathing in limp bodies. She lived - but she might not have, that is how unpredictable the world is. Unpredictable is fucking scary. I mean how am I going to keep this little girl safe and well in this unpredictable world? I am overwhelmed.
I used to be very controlling in my relationship with A. She went to therapy and really started calling me out. It was hard. But I remember the day that I stopped trying to control. I realised that she was a individual separate from me and I felt relieved that I no longer had to tell her what to do and how to do it. When I realised that and felt the intense relief it was hard to go back. From that moment on the intimacy between us grew because we were on common ground, I was no longer responsible for her, she felt safe to be (defenses went down), I felt her honesty, etc. A viscous cycle stopped.
Thinking about how I was controlling in my relationship and how I learned to stop seems like a good place to start as I try to make sense of my feelings around birth experience. I just don't know where to start.
A has a different take on the whole experience - yes she would have preferred to be there when our daughter came into the world - however, she believes that the universe actually picked us up and carried us in its arms and finally set us down when Carys was well. We were cared for. We made it through. She is here with us. A never believed we could control the birth - from the very first day we knew I was pregnant she went for the ride and took every day as it came. She had no expectations for the birth. She practiced hypnobirthing with me because I wanted to, it was a fun way for us to connect, and maybe it would come in handy. [I wish sometimes I could be more like A].
I wanted to bring Carys into the world gently and calmly. I wanted to be present when she came in to the world. I wanted A (my partner) there. To greet her, for us both to marvel at the birth of our daughter in those moments after she came into the world. I wanted to hold her and nurse her right away.
I had an easy pregnancy once things got going and I surrendered to it. I felt amazingly healthy. I ate well. I moved my body. I relaxed often. I loved to feel her kicking. I loved watching body change. I loved sharing this experience with my partner.
Together we practiced hypnobirthing - self hypnosis to manage pain during birth. We had to do meditation together nightly as part of the practice. We chose music for the birthing that would have a calming effect on me.
With my group week after week I talked about how I wanted a calm birth, no intervention, non-medicated. And everyone in my group supported me in that.
L (my therapist) reminds me how I like to be in control. I like to plan. I make lists. I organize my world. I make things predictable. She tells me that you can't control birth (like I couldn't control getting pregnant)... and I can't control my child. Carys' path involves being born her way, the way she was born. Carys is already on her path and proved that to her mom and baba in a major way on September 8.
Because I like to control, however, I have started to blame myself for how the birth went. What did I do wrong? What is wrong with my body? Was it because when the contractions came they were so hard and so fast that I got scared? Did I scare my little baby because I couldn't cope? Or was it something that I did or didn't do before that day - something I did in the pregnancy? Because blaming myself is about feeling responsible and feeling responsible is about control, in this situation anyway.
And if I am to accept that I am not responsible for how the birth went that day; If I am to accept that shit sometimes happens no matter what you plan and practice for, then I have to accept that the world is a very unpredictable place. Very unpredictable. Where little baby girls are born without heartbeats and not breathing in limp bodies. She lived - but she might not have, that is how unpredictable the world is. Unpredictable is fucking scary. I mean how am I going to keep this little girl safe and well in this unpredictable world? I am overwhelmed.
I used to be very controlling in my relationship with A. She went to therapy and really started calling me out. It was hard. But I remember the day that I stopped trying to control. I realised that she was a individual separate from me and I felt relieved that I no longer had to tell her what to do and how to do it. When I realised that and felt the intense relief it was hard to go back. From that moment on the intimacy between us grew because we were on common ground, I was no longer responsible for her, she felt safe to be (defenses went down), I felt her honesty, etc. A viscous cycle stopped.
Thinking about how I was controlling in my relationship and how I learned to stop seems like a good place to start as I try to make sense of my feelings around birth experience. I just don't know where to start.
A has a different take on the whole experience - yes she would have preferred to be there when our daughter came into the world - however, she believes that the universe actually picked us up and carried us in its arms and finally set us down when Carys was well. We were cared for. We made it through. She is here with us. A never believed we could control the birth - from the very first day we knew I was pregnant she went for the ride and took every day as it came. She had no expectations for the birth. She practiced hypnobirthing with me because I wanted to, it was a fun way for us to connect, and maybe it would come in handy. [I wish sometimes I could be more like A].
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