Lost

I felt called to work with families supporting their birth experiences because of the intimate tie to the life force.  In my experience being close to birth is a spiritual experience.  It is life at its richest.  As a new prenatal instructor I have taught about the process of birth like a starry-eyed lover, enamoured wearing rose-coloured glasses.  I cognitively understood that birth sometimes goes poorly, and that some women have terrible and painful experiences.  However infant mortality just seemed like a statistic to me.  I even just sort of glazed over that part of the curriculum.  There’s no reason to scare people I thought.   We have the choices and information, and midwifery and obstetrical care backed up by technology.  It is the best of all worlds, and it’s the best era for birthing here in British Columbia.  I assumed that I wouldn’t really need to bother with loss.  This is birth, far on the other side of death.

I was wrong.  I am reeling from the loss of three babies in my professional world in the last three months.  One family lost their child as a  late miscarriage, the second family lost their precious baby to cancer three days after birth, and the third beautiful babe was still-born, cause yet to be determined.  I have sent out three packages of information on resources for grieving families this week.  My heart is broken for these families.  I have been left with big questions.

After getting the news from family number three today, I have felt like I have been walking around in a bubble or vacuum.  I have been talking to colleagues trying to make sense of it all.  I have felt astounded and emotional and even wondered if this was some sort of sign that I am in the wrong field.  The answer thankfully came quite easily.  No I am not in the wrong field, and there is still no place I would rather be.  I am however recognizing that I am being shown some depth of understanding through this process, and hopefully gaining some wisdom.

Simultaneously my own family is grieving the loss of my husband’s mother, my children’s grandmother, my mother in law.  This is the first death in my immediate family that I have faced as an adult.  There is great sadness over our loss, and I know that my husband and all of his family of origin are hurting immensely.  I however had a flash of clarity while we were in Alberta when she passed.  All of us were together collectively mourning our loved one;  telling the stories of the last few weeks over and over again in different configurations.  We cried and prayed together.  We created a tribute to her together.  We had flocks of children keeping one ear to the adult conversations, trying to make sense of the happenings, while bringing a relief to the rest of us that life indeed does go on.  Sitting amongst it all one day, I sensed for a brief moment that death, like birth, is life at its richest.  And although the emotions are almost the antithesis to the emotional highs experienced with the birth of a child, they are equally  intense.  It was in this moment no wonder to me why we envision the two experiences as part of the same wheel.  It is the life force at its core.

I know I write this from a privileged position.  I am not the parent of a child who has just died.  In fact my biggest fear is losing one of my own children, I can not even stand the thought of it.  My deepest condolences go to the three families I have been honoured to know through this work, and to any parent who may be reading this who has lost a child.  And maybe it is because of my privileged position that I can write of the “richness” of sorrow.  And perhaps a young mother holding her dying baby in her arms, or taking pictures of the little body who never knew life outside the womb is nothing to do with richness, but more like some torturous nightmare of a reality.   To you I apologize for being so shallow.  For I get to speak from the place of birth professional and  I don’t fully understand how painful this experience must be.  But I am not going to quit working for  positive birthing experiences.  I am not going to let death take the beauty out of birth for me.  Nor do I wish to distill fear into the message I continue to bring to families.  I do hope to integrate a deeper reverence for the sacredness of the process and opportunity to bring forth life onto the planet.  And  I hope to venture into an understanding of life and death as one, and not something to be shunned away as only happening to others.

For as Kahlil Gibran says in “The Prophet”,

On Death…

You would know the secret of death.

But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?…

If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.

For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;

And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow, your heart dreams of spring.

Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

Peace and Blessings,

Corina

Not A Solo Act

I became quite the hermit over the summer.  The first half of the summer was very eventful (to say the least), and then I just needed to retreat.  When I need to be in retreat, that means the kids are in retreat, which was probably what they needed as well.  They spent long afternoons playing in the yard, that is after the weather finally got nice enough.  By September’s arrival I began to notice that I was feeling just a little frazzled despite the hermit mode.  It all became clear to me why at the “Not the First Day of School” Picnic for home school families.  I had been parenting mostly in isolation. No fun, in fact kinda crazy making. 

Parenting little ones day in and out with no other adult to laugh or roll my eyes with makes me cranky.  Don’t get me wrong, my partner helps out when he gets home, but he works long hours, and the days can feel lonely.   My older two fighting, my toddler making messes constantly all over everything is just not funny on  my own.  However, within five minutes of being in community with other moms at the fore mentioned picnic, I witnessed one mom consoling her young son who had toppled off the park bench, another mom chasing her toddler across the tarmac dragging his freshly laundered blankie over the dirt, another mom wandering in search of her daughter who had drifted off across the playground while she was tending to the younger one.  I overheard negotiations around food choices for lunch, and the refereeing of sibling squabbles.  And as all of the familiarityof my daily interactions with my children was displayed before me on the faces and postures of the other mothers, I could do nothing but smile and laugh.  This was what I needed!  I needed to be surrounded by the craziness of life with children, and to see its normalcy and universality.  I felt rejuvenated to see the other mothers rolling their eyes and feeling annoyed about the same things I do.  I was able to identify with the ridiculous frustration, and take pleasure in the details that on my own would just feel overwhelming at times.  The simple validation that comes from one parent to another as we pass one another on the playground apparatus, a sly smile and the glimmer of acknowledgement in each others eyes as we console the tantruming three-year old is enough to keep one committed to these irrational little creatures for the extra five minutes it takes to see them, (and ourselves) through to calmer feelings.  These gestures are essential for my well-being as a mom.  I feel understood which helps me be a better parent.

Then there is being in the public places where people don’t understand or have forgotten what it is like to have young children, and can not extend their compassion or imagination to what this must be like.  They are the places with expectations around noise level and/or appropriate behavior.  My public library is one example.  If it were not for the book lending aspect, I would avoid going there until my children are minimum 12 years of age.  I hate the feeling I get when I am in there like all of the 50-year-old women are watching my children’s every move waiting to cast  my parenting skills in to the “unruly” child equals undisciplined parent category.  My two-year old uses the hand rail to hang off of and I am glared at.  My 6-year-old calls his sister a “poo poo” and waggles his bum at her, he is shushed, and I am glared at.  The baby cries the entire time I am trying to use the manual check out bar, and they come over to “help”, not with genuine warmth, but an attitude of let us “help” get you and your ill-behaved children out of here faster. Now it’s the experiences like these that make me want to go home and be a shut in because my kids are freaks and I am their leader. 

But the whole point here is this my friends.  I was temporarily fooled this summer. I fooled myself into feeling that having loud children who can’t sit still for more than 7 or 8 minutes at a time is abnormal and that I don’t have “control”.  I am not a bad parent because the needs of my children “run the show”.  I am just a parent, like every other parent who is interrupted from sleep to nurse a baby, or spends good portions of the day protecting boundaries and negotiating details with young minds. This is an extraordinary period of life being a parent to young children, and maybe as adults we quickly forget as we age what it was like, or maybe the way we’re parenting is changing slightly.  But I know one thing for sure is that for me to be okay through this time, I need to be playing in the circus ring  (where the space is baby safe) with the other circus acts, and we can celebrate and enjoy the mayhem while it lasts.  Because I’m told it goes by quickly, (although sometimes that seems hard to believe!)

Thanks for reading.

Corina

p.s.-I know this was more parenting and not so much birth related, back to birth next time.

Here’s a link to my favorite parenting blog that makes me laugh and feel good about the circus around here.

http://crappypictures.typepad.com/crappy-pictures/

Hope you enjoy!

Whatever it takes…

Penny Simkin (one of the grandmothers of the doula movement) identified the three R’s of labour. 

Rhythm,

Repetition,

and Relaxation.

She did a great movie of the same name that is a staple film in any good child-birth class.  In it we are welcomed into the labours of a few different women, and get a glimpse at the coping rituals that evolve for them.  I have witnessed in the births I have attended as a doula, and experienced for myself while giving birth the necessity of these small and powerful rituals for delivering the labouring woman into a space essential for uninterrupted birth. 

This ritual serves as a distraction as well as a comfort.  Mother begins to rely on it as a crutch at the beginning of each contraction.  She might signal to her care team to pick it up for her as the contraction begins.  For example, recently I attended a birth where the couple had started using the contraction counter app on their iPhone.   When labour started, their engagement with the technology began I believe as a simple desire for the information the tracker could provide.  By the time I had arrived they had been using it for at least 5 hours, and the very act of pressing the start and stop button on the tracker, as well as the accumulation of data had become an integral part of the labour ritual.  I thought it was brilliant, as not only did it serve as a lovely distraction,  but the information did prove to be quite useful, (providing I remembered to press the button at the right time!)

In one of my births, what had started as a generous gesture by my support team for a lower back  with simultaneous shoulder rub, evolved quickly into the single factor I attribute to my ability to stay home for the birth.  I had a lot of back labour, and was polite in expressing my gratitude for the massage after the first contraction.  And after coping this way for a couple of  more contractions, I knew I could not bear them without it.  I began to snap my fingers to beckon the team back into massage position at the first whisper of the next contraction.

Even now, two years later, part of me cringes at the audacity to be so forward.  But really, this audacity is what it takes to make it through.  We have to let go of our politeness to accomplish uninterrupted birth.  We get to cling to the ridiculous or the audacious to cope.  We leave ourselves for a brief time, and those around us allow this and make space for it, and it is good.  We have to be ushered into this space where we are truly vulnerable with the people who are supporting us. This requires us to be okay with asking for what we need.   We also have to be able to push away the hand offered and say “NO don’t do that” if it is not working.  We have to feel safe enough to moan and make noise and bellow sounds we didn’t know existed within us.  If we don’t give ourselves permission to do this, to surrender our sense of propriety to the process of birthing, the pain will truly be too much to bear.  And in partnership with this, the labouring woman has to have chosen her care team well.  She has to be able to trust the people surrounding her in labour, to not only support her desires, but to be able to anticipate her needs.  For when the labouring woman is in the deepest point of labour, she is so internally focused, and in such a trance-like state that she may not be able to articulate her needs.  The care team has danced her deep, and then has to be able to provide for her well-being there.  She has to be able to let go, and let others. 

I attended a workshop not too long ago held by the organization I teach for.  A fellow child-birth educator shared the differences she sees in the birthing culture here, compared with her native Africa.  She remarked about the fear of discomfort that she sees here in her practice as an obstetrical nurse.  The labouring woman here she feels is unaccustomed to physical discomfort, and therefore asks to be relieved with narcotics or epidural analgesia.   I might add that the epidural could be an attractive alternative to labour for many women as it not only delivers a numbness to the physical sensations of birth, but also offers a reassurance to women that they don’t have to lose control over their demeanour. In my colleague’s esteemed opinion (she was also a midwife in Africa), we need to “birth like African woman”, and learn to work with the pain in order to bring the current rate of caesarean sections back down to World Health Organization recommended levels.  I get what she is saying.   I think that part of this parcel is not just being able to tolerate pain, but in order to do so, we also need to be able to tolerate the process required to tolerate the pain.  We need to be open to letting go, and we need to be able to give ourselves permission to do whatever it takes.  Sometimes in letting go we find where our strength truly exists.  

Why would we want to do this you ask?  Why go through all of the hassle of letting go, surrendering oursleves into the hands of others, rendering ourselves vulnerable, and potentially making an ass of ourselves?  Why go through all of this when we could just get the epidural and sleep through labour and wake up to push our babies out?  And if it were only that simple, but it is not.  There are so many reasons for leaving birth to unfold without interruption.  First of all medical intervention as routine practice has been empirically proven to introduce unnecessary risk to low risk birth.  Once we introduce one intervention, it usually ignites a cascade of follow up interventions.  And on the other end of the spectrum, medical research is documenting more and more evidence stating that normal birth has the most benefit to baby and mom for a multitude of reasons.  All you have to do is visit any credible website to look at the current recommendations.  www.lamaze.org happens to be my favorite, and there are many others.  

The most compelling reason for me personally, and the one which has radically changed the direction of my life, is the transformative nature of this experience.  And I do think of all birth experiences as transformative, epidural -no epidural, caesarean section-vaginal delivery.  But I think the uninterrupted birth operates according to the divine blue print and therefore comes with the biggest perks.  No doubt the hormonal highs achieved after delivery are incredible to experience, and the intricate interplay they have with triggering baby’s natural instincts for breast-feeding and life outside the womb are astounding.  But even deeper than that for me is the adjustment of my being that happened after birthing.  I think a personality shift was triggered deep within me too.  I gained a confidence that had not existed in me before.  Because of having to  surrender to my own vulnerability and be in the hands of others, I learned once again that I can trust, and in this old wounds were healed.   In healing I am now able to truly give from a place of compassion.  I think I am a better parent for it.  I also know that it was this experience that brings me here to writing this blog, to feeling inspired to support other families through birth as a doula and educator.  Our birth culture is filled with such painful stories.  I have experienced something different.  And as anyone else who has experienced something so profound, I want to share this possibility with others, in hopes that they too can experience something beautiful.

Reaching Out

A friend of mine shared with me the struggles one of her family members is having with new-born babe.  I’ve been thinking of her ever since.  I do not know her, but know her challenges are so common.  I know personally how lonely it can be when the reality of life with new-born is so drastically different from the serene and peaceful images that poster our birth culture.  If I could talk to her right now, I would want her to know that she is not alone.  I can’t speak for all mothers, but I know many mothers would not say that the feelings of intimacy between themselves and their babies was immediate.  Mine certainly were not. Bonding is a process.   This came as a big shock to me, especially as a first time mother.  I had expected that the birth of my baby would cement the bond that had been flourishing between me and my unborn baby for nine months.   To be honest, I tried to bond with my unborn child, I  talked to her, wrote her letters, sang and played her music, but the first time around, I really had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that there was a life inside of me.  I remember vividly the moment I laid my eyes on the beautiful little creature that I had just pushed out.  I was shocked.  I know it sounds ridiculous, but I was truly shocked that there really was someone in there.  And here she was,  and now I was responsible for her, and her whole life, and oh my god! 

 I wanted to do everything right, and was terrified of doing everything wrong.  The enormity of the situation washed over me in that moment, and it was over whelming for a long time.  I knew I loved her very much , but I was also really struggling.  There were moments of staring at her in utter disbelief.  Who was this little life, and what did she do to mine?  I tried to get out and be with other moms at the baby and moms group.  I would end up coming home feeling so much worse.  They all looked so together, and I felt so not.  An event happened however at one of the groups that I will never forget.  The topic was post partum depression.  The speaker had us go around the group and just check in to say how we were doing.  As the woman in the circle before me spoke, I heard not a word as I struggled to keep my tears inside.  I  didn’t want to expose my weakness to the group.  I was sure they wouldn’t understand, and I would just end up looking like a bad mom.  As my turn came to speak, I couldn’t for what felt like many minutes, and eventually all I could say was that this was the hardest job I’d ever had.  I was mortified.  But to my astonishment, every woman after me, not only thanked me for breaking the ice and letting it be okay to acknowledge the difficulty, but shared their own stories of struggle.  Women who had spoken before me even asked permission to be able to “go again” and really talk about how they were feeling.  Post partum, like birth, is amazing and very difficult.  Be gentle.

Some thoughts or practices for post partum;   

Have a baby moon.  Yes like the honeymoon, but with baby.  It’s okay to be jealous of your time with baby.  Friends can hold baby in a week or so, right now you are getting to know this new life, and what she needs from you.  It takes time. 

Spend as much time skin to skin with baby as you can. 

Breast feed the baby often.  Watching the clock or creating schedules is stressful for you and baby.  Just feed the baby whenever he asks to be fed.  This may seem like all the time at first, and it probably will be!  It’s okay. 

If breast-feeding hurts, get support.   Breastfeeding should not hurt when done properly, and it is an acquired skill by mom and baby.  Gentle guidance from someone who knows will be really helpful.

Talk to someone who has been through this before, and who can listen to you without judgement. 

Get enough sleep.  We need eight hours a day.  It won’t be at the same time, but get it throughout the day. 

 Be honest with yourself and loved ones.  Feeling emotional is perfectly natural at this time.  Hormone levels are balancing themselves, and the body is going through a lot of changes.  However if the situation seems truly too much to handle, find support.  I did, and I can say honestly that it changed my life. 

That being said, here’s a link to a great resource if you are in need in the Lowermainland.  http://www.postpartum.org/

Many warm thoughts to any new moms out there feeling like you are not enough.  You are exactly who your baby needs you to be.

Peace,

Corina

Our Medicine “Chests”

I don’t know about you, but feeding my children, MY breast milk ice cream seems absolutely plausible.  Of course it’s not that big of a stretch after nursing each of them for almost three years of their lives.  It is naturally sweet and light.  We all know it is very nutritious for our babies.  However scientist are just beginning to discover that breast milk has qualities even more wonderous than it’s superiority in this measure.    The whole relationship between baby, breast and milk is quite astonishing.  Here are some points that I have revelled at in learning;

1.  The breast produces milk perfectly suited to the age and stage of babies’ development.  The milk produced for a new-born will be compositionally different than for a one year old.  Even the milk for a premie is specially designed for him or her.  Communication happens between the infant and mother’s body through the breast.  The baby’s saliva enters the mother’s body through the ducts, and is responded to in perfect fashion!

2.  Studies done on breast milk by an Australian doctor (Dr. Cregan) have revealed that human milk contains stem cells.  This makes breast milk a substance as important to the development of an infant as blood.  In fact it is now believed that the breast and it’s milk picks up the genetic development  from where the placenta leaves off.   http://www.news.uwa.edu.au/content/stem-cell-discovery-another-reason-why-breast-best

3.  Breast milk changes temperature and has more or less watery fore milk in response to the needs of the baby.  If baby has a fever, the milk will accommodate.  If it is hot outside, the milk accommodates!

4.  This one astonished me, the breast has its own immune system that responds specifically to baby, independently of mother.  Baby can come home from an outing without mom, have encountered a virus, and the breast milk will begin to doctor the infant.  

5.  Breast milk has antibacterial properties.  It can be used up the nose like saline, on skin for rashes, in the eyes for pink eye.  I have used it in my older son’s ear for an ear ache, and on my dry skin.  I feel quite literally like I have a “medicine chest”!

6.  Studies are showing that breast milk contains a substance that kills cancer cells!  http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/04/100419132403.htm

7.  Breast milk protects children from many diseases, from diabetes, obesity, cancers, allergies, as well as bacterial infections.

8.  This fact may not be so great for mom.  When a woman is breast-feeding 20% more blood flow goes to her breasts than to her brain.  That explains so much in my life over my breast-feeding career!

9.  Breast feeding reduces a woman’s chances of getting breast cancer.  The longer she breast-feeds, the more the reduction. 

10.  One woman’s breasts can produce enough milk to feed multiple babies.  Very generous things, breasts are. 

Ice cream is a nice notion, and makes for an amusing story, but breast milk to me seems to be in a league of it’s own.  It’s not merely designed to be entertainment for our taste buds, it has some serious potential here!  Or maybe that’s part of the wonder, it encompasses everything from love, protection, healing, nourishment, and ice cream to boot!

Thanks for reading.

Corina

The Importance of the Nest

A friend sent me this video.  In it a beautiful elephant shares with us the birth of her calf.  Take a look if you like and come back.   http://www.fwdder.com/static/swf/video-player.swf?topic_id=184431&att_id=0 I felt and thought a lot of things viewing it.  I appreciate the intention of the video,  giving credit to the majesty of birth, and the power of instincts inherent in mothers.     But I couldn’t ignore the gut reaction I had to the instant replay of this elephant calf slamming out of his mother’s cozy womb onto the concrete pad of the birthing area.   I felt sorry for the little calf slipping around on the birthing fluids trying to get some traction for his first steps.  I wondered what a more natural setting for this creature might look like.  Might this mother have sought a softer nest for which to protect herself and calf, away from onlookers?  Would she have attempted to move away from the birthing fluids, or cover them, or would they not have impeded the first steps of the new born had they been released on soil or grass?   I began to draw some parallels to common birthing practices in North America, and thought I’d share some knowledge about the importance of building the nest for my readers about to give birth.

One factor in having a positive birth experience is setting the stage for the event.  As with all mammals we have the nesting instinct on purpose.  This urge to cozy and clean and prepare indeed is a sign that the baby is coming, and our bodies are preparing for labour.  If you ever had a cat or dog go and disappear only to be found in some obscure hiding spot birthing her babies, it’s the same thing for us.   Hormones trigger that sense of necessity for things to be ready.  Culturally we have turned this into a need for the babies room to be done, or the house to be tidied for our return home from the hospital.  However, with this interpretation we have missed the more immediate intent of this instinct.  The fundamental point is to create a safe loving place for us to birth, and those feelings of safety and security correlate directly with the progress of labour.  

 With birthing customs changing from home birth to hospital, it is not uncommon to hear a birth story where the labour suddenly stops or slows down upon transit to the hospital.  A woman can be labouring at home quite comfortably, and because of this the hormone oxytocin, the one which promotes contractions and labour progression, is effectively doing it’s job.  She may feel quite entranced in the labour, and like it’s time to head out to the hospital.   Once leaving the cozy nest, out into the big open world and into the unfamiliar environment of the hospital, she may feel jolted out of her labouring trance.  The car ride may be uncomfortable, and possibly she may feel anxiety about what is up and coming in the hospital. With this change, the flow of oxytocin may be weakened, and the body responds to fear and stress with the creation of cortisol.   Cortisol slows labour.  Upon arrival at the hospital, bright lights, interviews by nurses and forms to be filled, monitors and the whole new setting can really slow things down.  So here are a few tips for making that transition, if you happen to be birthing in hospital, a little easier.

1.  Remember that promoting the production of oxytocin, the “love” hormone is our main goal for labour.  This means doing anything we can do to stay relaxed.  Check out this great page for more information on oxytocin.  http://www.reuniting.info/science/oxytocin_cortisol_love_fear

2.  Labour at home in your nest for as long as possible.    Visit this page for questions about how to know when to go to the hospital.  http://magazine.lamaze.org/BuildingConfidenceWeekbyWeek/BuildingConfidenceWeek35/tabid/165/Default.aspx

3.  If music is a way you relax, load your mp3 player for transit to the hospital.  A relaxation CD in the car CD player could promote relaxation. Listen to your ipod through headphones into the hospital to keep the labouring mood.  Let your partner or doula fill in the forms and answer the registration questions so you can stay in your labour trance.

4.  Wrap yourself in a cozy blanket or favorite sweater for the car ride.  Bring a little bit of the nest with you.

5.  If you are soothed by scents, bring a roll on aromatherapy for the car and at the hospital.

6.  Once at the hospital, have your partner/doula work quickly to recreate the nest in the hospital room.  Dim lights, make a cozy bed, get out your favorite pillow, plug in the music, turn on the battery operated candlelight, (hospitals won’t allow lit candles).  Whatever it is that will help you to feel safe and cozy again.

7.  Be nurtured by your support.  Get that oxytocin coursing again, get some good love from your partner.  Slow dancing, cuddling, loving words, kissing, and massage can all help.  Remember that labour is part of the cycle of sexuality.  The same environment that you created for love making is the same needed for labour.  If what you need is space, feel safe to ask for that too.  Birth support can be the guardian of your space from the perimeter, and there for you when you need it.

8.  Bring clothes to wear that you feel comfortable in.  Wearing a hospital gown is not mandatory.

9.  Bring good food and drink to nurture and keep up your energy for labour.

10.  Have someone you love and trust to be there with you the entire time.   Look at the benefits of having a doula there for you and your partner.

Knowing yourself and what it is that helps you relax will be of the most benefit to your labour and birth.  Plan ahead the relaxation strategies you will use for labour. Practicing them before hand will have benefit now and then.

Looking back at our labouring elephant sister, despite my objections to her birthing environment, her labour progressed, her calf was born, and she instinctively knew how to respond to her infant’s respiratory transition.  The power of birth is a strong force that is inherent within our human body as well.  If we can nurture ourselves, our birth can be an amazingly positive experience that will provide a wonderful beginning for the whole family.

Thanks for reading.

Corina Bye

Lamaze Certified Child Birth Educator

Birth and Postpartum Doula (DONA)

Summoning the Warrior, (and knowing when to lay down the sword).

          Recently I have been facing a very challenging time in my life as a parent.  The intensity of emotion that comes with trying to make the best decisions today, as an investment into the present and future health of my children has been excruciating.  There are no easy answers.  I long for black or white.  I have been steeped in a process of examination and weighing prospective outcomes. Essentially I feel like I have been labouring through the process, and it has me drawing parallels to the challenge of birth.   

            I know I have been fortunate in my birthing experiences.  I have been told that my body was “made for birthing”, (maybe it’s my child-bearing hips).  And I have made it no secret the admiration I have for the intricate design for birth nature has laid out.  I am wondering if there is a secret formula inherent in the birth process that runs schematically throughout meeting the challenges of parenting, and the rest of life’s challenges for that matter.  During labour there is the simultaneous process of summoning our inner warrior to meet the experience with confidence and courage, and in order to physiologically succeed, we need to be able to relax, and trust the process.  What is happening is not bad for us.  In fact, if we are able to surrender and lay down the sword, the benefits for us and baby are innumerable.  It is when we try to escape the process that things become “complicated”.  Intervention is brought in, which increases the risk, and greatly reduces the benefit of the natural process. We need time to heal.   

            Maybe in fact the whole process of birthing the babe is but a rite of passage for all of the challenges that are to come.  In my experience, birth was the easy part.  Somewhere in my body I knew I could trust what was happening, and that it was good.  Countless women had done it before me, I was in good company.  So maybe my parenting dilemma comes from a simple lack of trust.   Do I need to fight for my values in parenting my children, or do I need to trust that there is a higher order that I am but a factor.  I have been bestowed the responsibility and blessing of nurturing these beautiful souls.  For each of my babies, I asserted my vision for the sacred space for which to birth them.  Once the agreement was established with care givers, and loved ones I invited into the space for my support, I laid down my defenses and let the event take place through me.  To transfer that to parenting, I guess I would uphold the values that I use as guiding principles for our lives, to create the parameters in which we live, and then within those parameters, allow the development to unfold with good faith and trust in the process.  Reminds me of that poem, I’ll find it and share it.  

 On Children
 Kahlil Gibran  

 Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.  

 You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.  

 You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.  

   

My personal issue is in the stability of the bow.  There are two parts that make up a bow, the frame and the string, and what happens when the parts of the bow are not providing the stability needed to propel the arrow?  What if each part of the bow feels that the direction they want the arrow to fly is the best path for the arrow?  What about that poor little arrow?  Will it get a chance to fly at all?  Does the string submit to the frame despite the compromise in her values just so that arrow gets a chance in the air?  Does the string gather resources around as a new frame to help give the arrow what she needs to fly as high and as far as she could go?  Or did the archer know what she was doing in chosing this particular bow for that arrow, and the string needs to have faith that all is well.  I don’t know.   

Corina

The Postpartum Reality:Why we really need a Doula!

So a wonderful friend of mine read my beautifully serene account of the role of the Postpartum Doula, and had some great feedback. She said, “Yeah that’s nice, but that’s not what the postpartum is really like, why don’t you write about what it’s really like?”  I responded that I had stated in the opening paragraph that this is in an ideal world, and I guess I find myself striving for an “ideal” world.  But the great thing is it is sometimes the pain of reality that we can bond around.  Each day, and moment of parenting, especially through the transition period which is the postpartum, has so many different faces of what reality looks like. I’m taking your advice dear friend, and will throw out there what a typical day with a new baby might more realistically feel like.  I have had many of these thoughts and experiences, and have heard friends talk about some of these experiences.  I wonder if anyone else can relate.

It’s 4 am.. awake again, and now I’m really awake.  This is the fourth feeding tonight.  This is a total waste of time sitting here in bed.  I’m awake and I should be asleep.  I wish the morning would just get here so I can get up.   I’m going to be so tired later..4:45 drift back to sleep, 5:30 baby wakes again..okay 6 am I’m just getting up  7 am -I am so freakin’ tired I can barely move.  Partner gets up from sleep in the other room as he has to go to work in the morning…”oh man I’m so tired” he says.  I can’t even begin to have this conversation for fear of lives being lost!

10:00 am Okay, baby is nursing again, we’re working on the latch the nurse showed me at the hospital, it really hurts!  Is it suppose to feel like this?  Am I doing this right?  It looks like he’s drinking…Oh yeah right, I am thirsty, but I got myself a glass of water before I sat down..where is it?  Not beside me here, oh great, out on the kitchen table.  I’ll just get up..oh no, don’t stir baby, okay stuck here on the bed, I’ll just practice my Jedi mind training and will the glass of water to me…come to me water…

11:00 am  Okay, I have fallen asleep with the baby for a little while and can think again, now to ever so softly wriggle my way out of the hold of my precious baby, looking so beautiful in his peaceful sleep, ahhh, finally a minute to myself.  (three and a half minutes later…) he’s crying…  What the heck, can’t this kid sleep on his own for a while!  Nurse him back to sleep, wriggle out again, and repeat.  I could do this all morning, wait, I have done this all morning!

11:30  Oh awesome…the thirty dollar per cloth diaper has leaked all over the sheets! I’ll just pull them off and onto the mountain of laundry in the corner..baby is screaming now, hold on baby! Pick up baby, rock and cuddle…I’ll put him in the baby carrier and have atleast one free hand, I guess I’ll shower on the weekend…

1:00 pm and the morning has totally slipped by, nursing baby, baby care mode… I’m still in pj’s, and teeth feel gross!  Hmm I’m feeling a little queasy.  I haven’t eaten yet!  The baby is content for five minutes, I’ll just shove anything I can get into my mouth in the most time effective means possible,  not much in the fridge, I don’t have time to cook something…ahhh ice cream and lunch meat!

1:35 The phone is ringing for the fifth time today… it only has four rings before it goes to voice mail, eh..just let it ring, I’m not going to make it anyway.  I wonder why I haven’t talked to my mom in a while?

1:45  Trying to get out the door to make an appointment, of course! Now the baby sleeps!  He never sleeps like this when we’re just hanging out with nowhere to be!  I’ll move him, oh he woke up, now he wants to nurse.  I’m going to be late.  Okay done, if we run out the door right now, we’ll make it just on time…what was that sound…sounded like thunder in his diaper!  Shit!  It’s everywhere!  I have to clean him up and he hates this..now he wants to nurse again because he’s upset about being changed and bathed…forget it I’ll just call and tell them I can’t make it.

2:15  I came into this room for a reason…what was it again. I can’t remember.

2:16 Oh yeah, I came here to go to the bathroom!

3:00 I need to get out of the house for a bit or I’m going to go mad.  I’ll just take the baby for a walk.  Why can’t I find two matching socks in one of these piles of laundry!  Whatever, I’ll just put him in two different socks, who cares right!…(back at home), Did everyone have to comment on his two different socks?  They’re just socks!

5:00 Partner should be through the door any minute, this place is a pig stye…baby won’t let me put him down, I have been doing the “bounce bounce pat” for an hour and a half, dinner is nowhere near the table..partner walks in the door.. “Hi” he says, how’s it going?  He looks around at the disaster that was the house, “So what did you do today”? I can’t even begin to speak.  What did I do today!!  I don’t even know what I’ve done today!  Besides not sleep, mess up the house, not eat properly, miss an appointment that would’ve brightened my day to have someone to talk to, plus I feel like I’m not managing this well…the babycries after I nurse him..my nipples are sore, I am exhausted, I stink, my teeth are dirty…how dare you ask me what I did today!  Later he asks if I want to have sex…

7:00 pm, How depressing, I want to go to bed.  I used to be fun, I used to go out at this time for dinner, look nice, go dancing!  I used to want to make love to my partner.  It’s seven pm and I’m done.  I can’t wait to crawl into bed with the baby so we can get some sleep.  Oh right..I haven’t gotten the clean sheets onto the bed yet..

I’d love to hear from you and your mayhem!

Thanks for reading,

Corina

The Postpartum Doula

(written for the Childbearing Society’s Quarterly Magazine)

The event that is birth has happened, and now is the first moment of the rest of their lives.  In an ideal world the new family has loving support to hold the boundary of the space for them, as they get to know and love the baby and their selves in their new roles.  This bonding process is an extension of the connection that existed pre-birth.

 It may look something like this: New mother with baby, still very much connected hormonally and through breastfeeding, in almost continual physical contact.  Partner is equally intrigued by the arrival, and cherishes the long moments of discovery, gazing into eyes, learning the sound of the new infant’s voice.  The process is slow and conscious, demanding a quality that is becoming rarer in our culture.  The clock is insignificant.  The boundary that distinguishes night and day becomes blurred, as the needs of the baby work on a much smaller cycle. 

The baby desires closeness, to smell familiar smells, and to feel the warmth and comfort of loving arms.  The mother is also new born, and she may be feeling the intensity of emotion that she had never imagined before.  She feels happiest with baby in her arms or beside her in her partner’s loving arms.  They exist together. It is a time for cradling infant, and new parents.  We dim the lights, walk softly, bring meals and water without being asked, and tend to life outside of this nest, to facilitate the forming of the foundation of this new unit.  Mother, partner and baby, emerge little by little as the days float by, until she is finally ready for a slow walk into the neighbourhood, and for the salutations from a world anxious to greet and welcome them.

The doula is the guardian of the sanctity of this transition.  She respects the process, and honours each family’s uniqueness within the universality of this event.  Parents are nurtured and nourished along the path of discovering their own innate wisdom for parenting their new baby.  There is no room for judgment here.  Gentle guidance is offered when requested.  An ear and possibly a shoulder to lean on are always available, and go especially well with a cup of tea.   The care offered by the doula is as instinctual as the process of parenting, with rewards being the bliss of watching mother and babe finally figure out a painless latch, or offering a blanket to the pair dozing off into peaceful slumber. 

Relief can come to a mother who knows her other children are enjoying an hour at the playground with the doula, while she savours a moment to herself beside sleeping babe.  The doula will never remove the baby from parental care, unless of course mom needs some time to nourish herself, with a shower or other form of self care.  The doula is not the expert, but is there to help facilitate the family’s growing expertise.  The doula’s work is done when the family feels empowered and confidently grounded in their new roles, and can manage the new ‘normal’.  

Whether the doula role is professionally or personally filled, be it by mother, brother, or friend, every new family needs support.  The role of the postpartum doula can look like many different faces, and each gesture no matter how insignificant it may seem, will be a great help.

The Ebb and Flow of Elimination Communication

When Isaac was about three months old, I started taking him to the bathroom after feedings and naps.  It worked pretty well.  I didn’t make the connection at that time, that sometimes his cries may have meant that he needed to eliminate.  At around seven months he began to clearly communicate with me that hanging over the toilet was not something he was interested in doing.  Yet at around a year old, when we were home, I would keep him in a cloth diaper without a cover so that I knew exactly when he was wet, and I could take the soil off of him quickly, and more so, I would try and get him to the potty which was easily accessible wherever we were.  By thirteen months he was taking his own soiled diapers off, (we were managing to land all of the poo in the potty, so it was only the wet ones) saying they were yucky and “too bulky”.  By fourteen months he was eliminating reliably in the potty.  Enough so to warrant the transition into “big boy underpants”, which were very hard to find at that time, as besides being fourteen months, he was a petite fourteen months.   Fourteen months and potty trained!  It was astonishing, and excellent.

As a pregnant child birth educator in training, I was in Chapters one day, and found Ingrid Bauer’s book “Diaper Free”, on sale.  So much on sale that I bought three of them.  I had never done any reading about the subject, as I had been receiving the wisdom and expertise of other friends who were practicing various versions of elimination communication with their little ones.  Moreover the very idea of managing my baby’s elimination seemed an extension of the intuitive process of parenting that corresponds with breastfeeding on cue and responding to all of his other communication.  I did however find this book helpful for validating that intuition.  The practical information, such as how to hold the baby during the act, is useful for those who may not have seen elimination communication in motion, (oh puns a plenty!).

My plan with Emmett was to not even put him into a diaper after birth.  Plans change, as while Dave was cuddling with Emmett after his birth, Dave was blessed, and then blessed some more, with the first arrival of meconium.  I was busy getting my legs back and myself sewn up, (Emmett’s long finger nails scratched me on the way out), and self care seemed to be a priority after the birthing event.  But by day three I was ready to start taking Emmett to eliminate.  I started by taking him straight to the bathroom after he would rouse from a sleep.  It worked so easily right off the bat!  And then I began taking him about ten minutes after nursing, to the same success.  This is the way it went for about five months.  I kept him diapered, as there would be the times that he would pee and I wasn’t cluing into his communication, if there was any.  I must interject here that for me, especially being a mother of two other children as well, that during these early months it was easier to not be that tuned in.   So timing worked best for my family at the time.

Things changed one day to my absolute astonishment.  I was sitting at the computer, and Emmett was on the floor with some toys, he beckoned, so I picked him up onto my lap, (oh yeah he was diaperless).  He was on my lap and squirmy and restless, so I put him down into the little bumbo chair which looks and I imagine, feels similar to a potty (same position), and he eliminated immediately.  An AHA moment for me!  Right, squirmy and restless was communication from my five month old for the need to eliminate.  Of course! I believe it is for the rest of the world’s population too!  So that changed mine and Emmett’s relationship a lot that day.  I know now, even if sometimes I don’t recognize it early enough or at all, that he does desire, and communicates that desire to NOT soil his clothes.  I find that amazing, especially in light of the manner in which we manage this subject in our culture.   His communication has evolved into something more sophisticated as a seven and a half month old.  He will make a grunt like he is going poo, that is exaggerated and almost playful.  He usually has a smile on his face.  In fact  I overheard Emmett hanging out with his dad the other day, Emmett was making the sound, and Dave responding in imitation.  It clicked, and I swooped in and informed Dave that this might be a signal to eliminate.  Sure enough it was.  I’m still amazed when I get it.  Now this part may sound hard to believe, and I have trouble believing it excepting for the fact that it happens every morning.  Emmett and I co-sleep.  He wakes up every morning around 6 am.  He babbles a couple of words, and then his babbling migrates to the word “poo”, and I respond with, “oh you have to go poo”?, and take him to the toilet where he has his morning elimination.  Done and done.  It is truly amazing.

I find car trips into the city aren’t that great for E.C.  Anytime that I am distracted or unavailable aren’t great for total E.C. success.  But that’s the thing, total success not necessary.  As with many parenting endeavours, success occurs at 1%.  We do our best.  There are many great reasons for not putting waste filled diapers into the landfill.  Even one “catch”. (as a potty success is frequently called), is one less diaper in the dump (and one less dump in the diaper…oh too much!)  I’ll post some links to other E.C. sites I’ve enjoyed.

an example

Thanks for reading!

Corina

April 20, 2011  (an update)

So I thought this may be of interest to some.  Emmett is on potty strike.  He’s now 18 months old.  When he was 14 months old I broke my right wrist.  I was unable to take him to the potty for 2 months.  Once I was able to physically manage taking him to the toilet again, he was NOT interested in continuing.  And this is the way it stands to this day.  I tell you, I am not thrilled about cleaning poop out of diapers.  Isaac totally spoiled me, as he was done and done by this age, and had pooed in the toilet from three months of age.  All I can do now I guess is follow Emmett’ s lead.  If anyone has any EC wisdom to share, I’m interested!

Corina