Releasing What Was, In Birth and Motherhood

Tonight is a full moon, a powerful full moon in one of my signs (I am on the cusps of Aquarius and Capricorn), and it has inspired me beyond belief in a way I cannot describe, nor do I want to attempt to describe. I’ve been much more in tune with the moon since having babies and quitting birth control. It’s been wild to actually notice a change in my connection to the Earth, especially when it comes to my life’s work in the childbirth phase of a woman’s life.

Interestingly, tonight the moon has me wanting to share some thoughts on the concept of releasing that which no longer serves us. So, after setting out my crystals and admiring the glow of the moon as it rose behind a palm tree, I decided to skip the television and go straight to my keyboard. This never happens anymore after long days with kiddos, so I felt it  imperative that I take full advantage of the energy I had been given and let the words reveal themselves speedily. They, like me, needed release.

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Just as in birth, motherhood itself requires a woman to let go of so much that she holds dear. She sacrifices her body and spirit, literally, for her child - a child that she doesn’t see or hold in her arms for around ten months. In order to give birth efficiently to both her baby and her new Self, a woman must release all that prevents her from caring for her child. This includes not only former vices, but also former dreams. While a woman can be anything she desires to be, it is impossible for anyone, woman or man, to accomplish all goals at once. Accepting this as a necessary truth upon which the foundation our motherhood is built upon is itself the key to truly living as a mother.

Not as a woman who once was.

Not as a woman who will be one day.

But as a woman who is madly in love with her Self, her children and her lover.

A woman who is dedicated to her family and closest friends.

A woman who caters to her own deep desires and interests.

A woman who is present and accepting of what arrives in her life, knowing a lesson will be learned and a battle will be won.

In releasing our need to control every outer aspect of our being, whether specifically in our birthing spaces or generally in our overall lives as mothers, we create room for new understandings and ideas. And in doing this we are able to provide our families with more. More love, more wisdom and more of our maternal essences.

Personally, as a mother who has made a point of creating space for natural elements to play a larger role in my life, I am growing more and more patient by the week. I am relying less on my own ability to control my Self, my children and my environment, and, in turn, I am relying more on those who love me and the Earth that holds me close. I am trusting only that which feels right intuitively, because motherhood taught me that my intuition is a treasure from Mother Nature herself - as is your intuition.

And so I suggest that you release what was once necessary, but is no longer. Release fears that have guided you on your path, but are no more than extra weight at the moment. Release the tension in each part of your body. Release the cares that are suffocating what could be something so simple as a warm, beautiful summer evening with a slight breeze rolling in through an open window, a full moon shining golden above you and those you love resting warmly in your heart.

Release the excuses, release the guilt, release the shame. In releasing, we receive. And what better time to receive, than the present?

My full moon eclipse consisted of a postpartum visit with a beautiful new mama, a play date in an adventurous backyard, a good conversation with a wonderful friend, some garbage truck wonder, dress up dance parties, sunset, rusted chairs, lots of toys and lots of crystals.

Thoughts on the Feminine

I attended a Birthing From Within workshop for doulas and mentors last weekend and, my word, was it glorious. The energy in a room filled with women passionate about motherhood and helping other women is so healing that I started this week with a renewed sense of self and capability. I am so grateful for this.

On the first day of the workshop we practiced an art exercise after discussing some of the issues we see with modern birth. The directions were to use pastels to draw an image, or images, that would tell someone from the future what the essence of birth was in 2017. It didn't have to be literal, nor did it have to look pretty. It simply had to come straight from our minds right onto the large piece of paper in front of us. Tasks like this are exactly what recovering perfectionists like myself need. I felt free to truly create, and it was invigorating. Plus there weren't any tiny hands around to "contribute" to my drawing. This was a first in a very long time!

My image was of a huge, beautiful flower in the middle of towering, crashing waves. In the corner was a golden crescent moon controlling the tide. I used my fingers to purposefully make the pastels spread all over the paper, leaving lines of imperfect color in their wake. To me, my image invoked a scene of the beauty of the feminine being threatened by the waves. The moon, too, was actually being threatened by the waves, and the wind created by the events at hand was dangerously close to ripping the flower apart.

As I created this piece of art, I could hear myself writing a passage in my mind. When I finished with the pastels, I moved a new medium - my pen. I wrote what I heard in my head, word for word, on my paper, and I loved it. I loved that I conveyed a message in two different ways at the same time. I loved that I had the time and space to do it. I loved that I was alone with my thoughts, furthuring my knowledge of working with women during the childbearing year. I loved every aspect of that moment and what I had created.

Below is the passage I wrote. It comes from a place of recent struggle, a struggle I will write about soon when I'm ready, and it reflects some of the darker aspects of my mindset as a woman. Yet, in spite of this, it maintains the sense of hope I hold for my children and their future as women, possibly mothers, but most definitely sisters. Maybe it rings true for you as well during this strange time in history that is greatly affecting the present.

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Everything passes so quickly. A constant influx and overload that overpowers our deepest desires to connect to our center and epitomize goodness. Motherhood, and womanhood essentially, is an existence so tied to nature it is nearly unbearable. And yet, the more rooted we attempt to become, the stronger the tidal pull of all outside forces. Though the moon controls our being as much as it controls the vast and powerful ocean, it often appears to be no match for the speed and control of our daily physical life. It feels as though we are slowly being washed away, but within us remains a strength literally unknown to man, and it will always drive us to continue forward, and to one day overcome.

In remembering the sweetness of my daughters, and the abundance of tiny and beautiful moments they bring to me throughout the day, I stay grounded.

The Spring and Its Newness

In welcoming spring, I welcome a new perspective. A new way of doing things. A new way of living. A new way of nurturing the lives I've created. I am also dutifully preparing myself, mind and body, for the births that I will be attending and the families I will be serving postpartum in the coming months. 

One of the ways I am going about doing all of the above is reading book after book after book, and almost completely ditching social media. In so doing I have found that I am learning more about birth and motherhood through reading books about nature, community and mindfulness than I have through reading books, articles and posts solely written for the purpose of teaching us how to give birth and raise children. 

Making these changes has enhanced my knowledge of self and my knowledge of our collective purpose as fellow humans. It has been made clear to me that we don't need to binge on research nearly as much as we need to simply be present and allow our natural instincts to guide us on our personal journeys. 

One of the best ways to practice staying present is to speak to others and get to know them better. Pay close attention. Allow yourself to feel what they felt. Learn from their stories and develop relationships that nurture your need to be generous. Make phone calls. Initiate time spent in each other's company. Be thoughtful about the conversations you have and treat no moment as less important than the others. Every moment is of importance. Every moment has a past, present and future state within your mind. Every moment is worthwhile.

I encourage you to read The Red Tent, Braiding Sweetgrass and A New Earth. I encourage you to read them while you take a break from social media. I encourage you to read them with a glass of wine. I encourage you to read them while your children watch a movie or play in the yard. I encourage you to read them while your baby sleeps at your breast. I encourage you to read them while you wait in waiting rooms and pump at your workplace. 

I encourage you.

I urge you to listen to the Free Birth Society podcast. I urge you to listen to this while you do the dishes. I urge you to listen to this while you fold the laundry. I urge you to listen to this while you drive in traffic. I urge you to listen to this while you organize the play area.

I urge you.

I urge you, and I send you love. I too feel the weight on our shoulders.

The current state of society is unfortunate for parents, especially mothers. We are expected to do as everyone else does and choose ways of caring for our children that have official names and definitions. We are always attempting to categorize the way we nurture, and we are always feeling that something is lacking - and that we are isolated in our weariness. But we are not.

Reading these books and listening to this podcast has reminded me that I am not alone. There are women within me, women that surround me, women that love me and women that guide me. There are women that struggle, women that inspire, women that succeed, women that fail and women that empower. And together as women we will save this world, just as soon as we recall where we come from, become our truest selves and reunite with nature and its incredible components. 

Read. Listen. Breathe. Smile. Be.

Life and Death

I spent the first three days of last week helping a friend through the birth of her first baby. Since her baby was a week overdue, she was induced on Sunday, and I spent the following days with her and her boyfriend to guide them through her labor and delivery experience. It was slightly intimidating but immeasurably rewarding, and I felt even more confident in my decision to pursue a career in birth education and “doula-ing” (though I’m opting for the role of postpartum doula as opposed to that of a labor doula).

Although I have personally experienced what it’s like to go into labor and give birth, I had never witnessed someone else give birth, nor had I witnessed the induction process. Both were incredibly eye-opening, and to be relied on for information and support during one of the most physically and mentally challenging experiences a woman could have was truly life-affirming for me. I befriended both sides of this new baby’s family and put my own pregnant-woman needs aside as much as I physically could during the almost three-day induction process. Only going home to sleep, I could hardly even do that as I anxiously awaited texts and phone calls announcing any major change that would require me to hurry back to the hospital. I was so amped on the experience that my closed eyelids were literally twitching uncontrollably, and sleep was essentially impossible. The exhaustion brought on by my own pregnancy didn’t phase me, and for that I was extremely thankful.

After the baby was born (sunny-side up, which was super impressive), I spent some time with the new parents to help them get adjusted to holding their new little family member without being fearful, and to help mama start the ever-intimidating first breastfeeding journey. I left soon after that to give them time to introduce the baby to close friends and family, and for me to reunite with my own family. I had done my part and felt completely satisfied with the type of working mother I had become.

As I left the hospital, I spoke on the phone with my mother-in-law who told me that her father, who had been suffering from cancer for two years and had decided to forego further treatment after the initial chemotherapy was unsuccessful, had taken a turn for the worse and most likely had no more than two weeks left in his life. I stopped by my husband’s work to eat some lunch and discuss what we should do as far as going to visit his grandfather. The two days we could chose to visit were either the following day or this upcoming Sunday, and we decided that the three of us (Lorelei being the third) would drive to Banning (near Palm Springs, a two-and-half-hour trip) the next day to go say our goodbyes. It was very important to us that we are there for Ryan’s mom and grandmother and aunts and everyone else close to this situation. We had both seen the death of a grandparent before (we were in the room with Ryan’s fraternal grandmother when she passed three years ago) and were not at all afraid of what we would see when we arrived in Banning.

Despite our certainty, I cried the entire 30-minute drive home. I was overwhelmed with what I had just experienced (seeing the beginning of the first day of a newborn baby’s life) and by what was happening to Ryan’s grandfather, one of the kindest, funniest, sweetest men I’d ever been lucky enough to spend time with. I was overwhelmed by the idea that the beginning and end of life are such definitive moments that no one can really control, and that my babies are going to die one day and I am going to die one day and Ryan is going to die one day and that there’s a chance I might have to spend the last days/months/years of my life without Ryan. It was all way too much for me to process when I was surviving on two hours of sleep and a lot of unhealthy food while trying to grow a baby in my uterus, so I took a long nap when I got to my mom’s house, where Lorelei was staying while Ryan and I were working, and felt a lot better about everything when I woke up. That being said, I’m still somewhat haunted by the thoughts that crossed my mind on that drive home. 

Nevertheless, we left the next morning, packing only what we’d need for a one-night stay at my mother-in-law’s, and hoped for an easy trip...

“Easy” is not a word that I should even say out loud anymore, let alone think. Lorelei was desperate to get out of the car and walk around a little less than halfway through the drive, so we got off the freeway and took her to the first food place we could find: McDonald’s. When a mother becomes desperate to not have to hear a screaming toddler in the car for more than an hour, she will, without giving it a second thought, feed that toddler French fries. She’ll even go a step further and get said toddler a happy meal so she will have a new toy to play with. Luckily the toy in this happy meal was a plastic Furby with googly eyes and Lorelei was thoroughly entertained. I was also personally amused by the fact that Furbies are still a thing.

When we arrived to Ryan’s grandparents’ house, the mood was slightly tense, but only  because things with his health were changing so rapidly. One thing I love about Ryan’s family is their complete selflessness. All three of Ryan’s grandfather’s daughters were there to help him and their mother, and they were all in very positive spirits. I felt very comfortable with our decision to bring Lorelei to say goodbye alongside us because she wasn’t being exposed to any negativity whatsoever. Instead, Lorelei enhanced the environment with her obliviousness to the situation. She was running around talking about the things she saw in the living room, eating chips and asking her Grammy (Ryan’s mom) to hold her. She explored the backyard and made friends with some duck lawn ornaments. She would curiously and happily peek at her great-grandfather resting in his bed and waved goodbye to him when it was time to leave. It was truly touching to see her sweet personality shine through what is certainly a sad situation.

The next morning, we found out that Ryan’s grandfather had passed away. This was a shock to everyone because we all thought he had at least a few more days ahead of him, but we felt the timing was serendipitous. We were able to say goodbye to him just in time, and he was able to pass before his health deteriorated to a point where he was unrecognizable. Ryan and I were also happy to be at his mom’s house when she received the news. It’s important to us to support the people we love, and it meant a lot to us to be lucky enough to be so close when this important event occurred. Needless to say we decided to stay another night and enjoy a day with Ryan’s brother and his girlfriend at the beach and pool. The weather was beautiful and it was nice to take a day off from normal life to really take in all that had happened so far in the week (which was truly a lot). The only downside is that we didn’t bring enough stuff to carry us through a two-day stay, so we had to go bathing suit shopping (miserable) and wear the same clothes over and over again (annoying). We also ran out of diapers and Lorelei had to run around naked while Ryan drove to the store to buy some. We are never so unprepared when we travel, so it was a little bit frustrating. All I can really say is, thank God for Target and end of summer swimsuit sales at local surf shops.

As all of this was going on, Lorelei had become a lot fussier and I noticed a few little bumps on her face. I didn’t think much of it (I thought maybe they were brought on by the heat), but when she woke up hours earlier than she normally does on the day we were supposed to leave, the bumps had multiplied and she seemed pretty miserable. In fact, she cried for the majority of the long drive home and Ryan and I were definitely at our limit when it came to anything that involved elevated stress levels. So I made a doctor’s appointment that was to take place as soon as we got home because my momma intuition was telling me Lorelei had hand, foot and mouth disease, an annoying but somewhat harmless disease that was making the rounds where we live. After enduring an unbelievable amount of traffic, a screaming toddler and some serious lack of sleep, Ryan and I went our separate ways, him to work and me with our still-screaming daughter to the doctor.

Long story short, I was right. Lorelei has hand, foot and mouth disease and her throat was covered in blisters. So, after a week of helping someone give birth and saying goodbye to a very beloved family member, I was quarantined to my extremely messy home to take care of my poor, sick Lorelei until this viral illness ran its course. Though adults don’t usually get HFM, I did, and it was the worst illness I have ever experienced - ever. 

I feel very challenged as a human being, and also very tired and constantly hungry thanks to my pregnancy. I’m sure everything would seem much more manageable if my brain were allowed to rest a lot sooner and a lot longer than it’s usually able to, but it’s not, so now that I’ve vented to my computer while watching mindless television, I’m going to rub cocoa butter all over my expanding belly (…and butt) and mentally prepare for what tomorrow may bring. Hopefully it brings a nap and a housecleaner.