Breath and Love
As I head into the last few days of my 2nd [full term] pregnancy I've been thinking a lot about the whole labor bit. It hasn’t been too long since my last rodeo. They say you forget the pain…pish posh. I remember every bit. Society, movies, friends, doctors, and moms will try to prep you for the untouchable pain followed by unfathomable love and joy of child birth. No one can. My first birth story was beautiful, and for all intents and purposes, was the ideal home birth. I started labor on a gorgeous sunny afternoon walk following Easter Service. I enjoyed quality time with Max and our pig, Hamlet, and spent the day comfortably laboring in our home. Our midwives and doula joined us a few hours later, and I was blessed to be surrounded by love, good energy, and capable hands. Twelve hours later, Max joined me in the birthing tub and held me afloat when I didn’t have the energy as I gave birth. I caught her and pulled our perfect daughter from the water and to my chest. Then Max cut her cord. By the time the midwives left that morning (but not before we asked them, “so now what do we do?”), my family of 3 was tucked in tight in the comfort of our own bed. And life began anew.
It is magical to look back on. It was perfect. But two things happened during my first birth experience that I have been meditating on, and praying about, and hoping to change this time around: (a) I fought the pain, and (b) I didn't have that "I'm so in love" feeling.
// Fighting the Pain:
It seems like a no-duh that pushing a watermelon out of a hole the size of a kumquat would bring about substantial discomfort. And it's not just about the size ratio, there is a human being displacing and pushing on all of your bodily organs, and altering pelvic placement (that's a bone, the kid actually moves a woman's bones), all while your entire abdomen (and sometimes, back too) contracts into the most intense charlie horse for a whole minute every five minutes. It's physically very intense. But, you know, I was watching a movie with this clip of a horse giving birth, and those mamas are doing the same thing…except their babies are way bigger.
And yet the mothers seem so calm and at peace with what is happening within them. It's incredible. That's the kind of birth I want: I want to birth like a freaking horse! The fear of pain turns on our fight-or-flight, it tenses up our bodies and makes the whole birthing process harder. We stop breathing full breaths. We fight the natural contractions that are pushing our baby closer to us. We make it harder on ourselves by, ultimately, fearing the pain. I am a FIRM believer in the power of thought and prayer. Thoughts manifest themselves, and my God answers my call. So here goes nothing: I want to give in. I want to surrender and breathe. …With this in mind, we'll see how everything actually plays out.
// I'm not in Love:
This was a VERY hard thing to admit after Sage was born. The pressure is everywhere. Your parents always say "you'll never know how much I love you until you have your own kid," and you constantly see on Facebook new moms saying things like "he was born and we are already SO in love!" ... I didn't feel that way. I was exhausted. This tiny creature just put me through the most intense and painful experience of my entire life (remember? I fought the pain). She was cool, for sure! But I couldn't wrap my head around using the "L" word for quite a few days. I honestly don't think that my feelings were in any way unheard of or inconceivable, and if you felt the same way, I hope you find comfort in this honest confession. I didn’t know it at the time, but guilt about those thoughts and feelings sent me into some deep baby blues, and I didn’t have the understanding to get help.
This time around I know it will be different, though. It will be different, not because I will love my son more than I did/do my daughter, but because my daughter taught me to love. I had always thought of myself as an excellent lover (not the sexy kind, the loving people kind of lover), but in the past 17 months, Sage has taught me how to love more fiercely than I knew possible (you were right, Mom and Dad). And now I know how to do it this time around! I know how to love. I’m stoked about it!
So those are my honest hopes for the beginning of my next chapter as a mom. I hope to have BREATH, and I hope to have LOVE. I hope these things, not only for myself, but for everyone, those getting ready to birth and those not. Breath and love.
**And I also hope that anyone struggling with any level of post partum depression, get some help. Practice self-care in a season when the one being cared for is not usually you (this means dads, too).