The Mother of All Transitions Part Two: Birth

The birth experience was very important to me. I had it all planned out. I had a mid-wife and a doula. My husband and I had created a "birth plan" which was an unmedicated, vaginal water birth assisted by the mid-wife and with the support of a doula. It was going to be the perfect "hippy birth," but our soon-to-arrive son had other plans...

He was breach. I found this out about a month before his due date, however he had been breach for a long time and somehow my midwife had missed it... she had mistaken his tush for his head. I was so distraught when I found out he was breach. I set out to do as much as possible to turn him around naturally. I listened to tapes, did yoga poses, went to a chiropractor but nothing seemed to help. Every time I went back to the midwife he was still breach.

I was devastated. I knew that our soon-to-arrive son was likely going to be our only child. And partially because of that I selfishly wanted the "whole birth experience." I had a false belief in my head that if my son wasn't born "au-natural" that that somehow made me less of a woman.

I was also worried because I knew that the science said that it was better for the baby to travel through the birth canal. When babies are being born, the physical action of them traveling down the birth canal develops their lungs. When they travel through the vagina, the bacteria that is present actually protects them against disease.

I wanted the best for our baby and I already felt like I was failing at providing that. 

Desperate for a solution that would give me and our son the best chance for a natural childbirth I decided to opt for an external cephalic version. This is a procedure that is done in a hospital. The doctor (and in my case assisted by the midwife) attempts to turn the baby from a breech position to the head-down position preferred for a vaginal birth. This is done by the doctor pressing on the outside of the mother's belly to get the baby to flip in the womb. As this is being done, the babies heart is being monitored and an ultrasound is used to help guide the process.

The day came for my husband and I to go to the hospital to get the version. I was nervous and cautiously optimistic. I knew that versions were successful fifty percent of the time. There was a good chance we could be in that fifty percent. But I also had a nagging feeling that it wouldn't work. That I wouldn't be able to have the birth that I wanted and that felt like a huge loss. I'm gamely tried to bat away the anxious thoughts nipping at my heels, "What if it doesn't work? What if I have to have a C-section?"

We checked into the hospital around five and we were led to the room where the procedure would take place. Soon after we were told that the doctor was running late he would be there in two hours. My husband and I sat in the hospital room counting down the minutes and hours until he arrived. We then received another phone call... he was running an additional two hours behind! My anxiety shot through the roof. How could I be expected to sit here for four hours just waiting to find out if our baby could successfully be turned. I honestly can't remember how we passed the time, but somehow we did. Finally at almost ten o'clock at night, the doctor and midwife arrived.

I had been told that getting an epidural would increase my chances of having our little guy turn through the manual version. Reluctantly I had agreed. A anethetist with the bedside manor of Oscar the Grouch administered the epidural. Then the doctor, assisted by the midwife began trying to turn the baby. As they tried to turn him, he was being monitored by ultrasound. There were able to see him and monitor his heart rate.

All of a sudden his heart-rate dropped. He was going into distress. I felt panic rise in me. Hurting our baby was the last thing I had intended! The doctor and midwife stopped trying to turn our little man. Thankfully his heart rate returned to normal. I exhaled a huge sigh of relief. Grateful that no permanent damage had been done.

The mid-wife came over to us and said we had three options: 1) Get a C-Section right now. 2) Go home and return for a C-Section in a week. 3) Go to a doctor she knew in the city who would deliver a breech baby naturally. In my mind there was only one option: get the c-section right away. I couldn't imagine going home and waiting a week-- terrified the whole time that the manual version had caused stress and his heart rate would plummet again. I also wasn't up for taking the risk to deliver breech with a doctor I didn't know and hadn't formed any kind of relationship with. Emergency C-section it was!

Brian and I looked at each other. Little had we guessed when we came to the hospital this afternoon that we would be meeting our little man this soon!

The "Mother" of All Transitions Part One: Pregnancy

When we got pregnant-- after over two years of trying, I was over the moon with happiness. The previous two years had been fraught with tension, monthly disappointment, and the gnawing tick-tock, tick-tock of my biological clock, which seemed to be speeding up as the months and years went by. After getting a positive pregnancy test (on Mother's Day, no less) it felt like I had an incredible secret that I wanted to shout from the rooftops. I cannot recall many times in my life where I felt more happy or alive.

However, because I'm on the sensitive-anxious spectrum, my joy was soon overtaken by worry. "What if I miscarry?" became a frequent refrain in my head. Now that I was actually pregnant, the possibility of loss seemed too terrifying to imagine and also too possible. I was scared to breathe for fear I might miscarry this beautiful wish that I had been longing for. The possibility of loss had never felt so present and so scary before.

It wasn't until my dear therapist Sheryl Paul suggested that I get into nature and go for a walk, that some of my anxiety dissipated and I was able to rein in the specter of fear enough that I could breathe again. Over the years I've found that a surefire way for me to regain my center is to take in nature in one of its many forms-- be it gazing at the moon and stars, sitting by the sea, or walking among tall and silent firs. When I'm in places such as those, the inner chatter dissipates and I'm able to hear my Big Self. The Self that is connected to something greater than the "little me" who sometimes gets caught in the web of worry and discontent.

After that day of bathing in nature, the anxiety receded. When the anxious part of myself would pipe up with a "What if..." I was able to turn inward and do the work of soothing that part of myself who has a hard time sitting with uncertainty.

It is a strange thing to be growing a human in your belly. I could see the outward manifestation of my belly getting larger. I could feel what started off as butterfly flutters and what transformed into real honest-to-goodness kicks, but I couldn't see my baby. And because of that, I had to trust that no matter what happened I would be okay and our baby would be okay.

Aside from sensitivity and being prone to anxiety, my "advanced maternal age" (as doctor's like to call it) contributed to my fears that it all could go horribly wrong. I had just turned 38 when I got pregnant and had heard all the stats about fertility going into decline after the age of 35 and the risk of complications skyrocketing.

However, when I tuned into my Inner Wisdom the refrain was always the same, "You are safe and it will all be okay." Over the days and months of my pregnancy I had a few daily practices that really helped me to ground and stay connected to that "still-point" that lives inside all of us. Perhaps one or more of these practices will be resonant for you.

Journaling: Over the course of my pregnancy I kept two journals. One in which I poured out my fears and connected with my own Inner Wisdom. And another, in which I sent letters to our unborn son, letting him know how much he was loved already. The first practice helped me to steady my anxious thoughts and connect with my own source of guidance. The second practice helped me to connect more deeply with my growing belly and to feel more of a connection with the little baby that I had yet to meet.

Reiki: When I was pregnant I would give Reiki to both myself and our unborn child. I would place my hands on my belly and send my little one light and love. During these times of silent communion, I was able to feel a deep connection with the little person growing inside of me.  Even now, I have a daily Reiki self-care practice that helps me to connect with my breath, ground, center and soothe. It is non-negotiable time for me to turn inward, connect with life-force energy and revitalize.

Prayer: At the end of the day, when I'd curl up in bed and the dark thoughts would sometimes overtake me it was helpful to simply pray. I'm not a religious person (in the sense that organized religion doesn't resonate with me) but I do believe in the power of prayer. Sometimes all that was needed was some quiet time, with closed eyes and a silent prayer that my husband and I be guided and supported as we embarked on this journey into the unknown.

When I was pregnant, little did I know how much my world would be rocked by the birth of our little guy. Stay tuned for The Mother of All Transitions Part Two: Labor and Delivery.

I would love to hear from you in the comments. What was your pregnancy journey like? Or if you hope to become pregnant what have you been struggling with?

Watering the Plant of Intimate Relationships

Today I want to talk about connection. It's something we all want more of and something that in today's culture, many of us are lacking. We lack real connection with friends, family members and even the people who are closest to us: our partners.

Our society doesn't set us up for making connection a priority. Sure there's phones, text messaging and social media, but that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about heart to heart connection that can only happen when the phones are put down and we can slow down enough to really take one another in.

If you have children, it only gets more challenging to create the space to connect. But what happens when we don't make connection a priority?

Our relationships are like plants that need proper nurturing to grow and without tending they whither and eventually die.

Recently I've been struggling with connection. My husband and I are the parents to an amazing (and rambunctious) two year old boy. I have a coaching business and also teach at a university. My husband has his own demanding job. Sometimes it can feel as if we are simply tag-team parenting and passing like ships in the night.

What we've realized is that we need to make more time to slow down and connect-- even if it means that the blog post doesn't get written or the house doesn't get cleaned. It's important to let go of perfection and make time to water the relationship.

Watering your relationship doesn't have to look like going out to a fancy dinner and a Broadway show (although it can). It can also be about taking ten minutes at the end of a busy day to sit down next to each other, check-in and have a few minutes of heart connection. It's can be about taking the extra ten seconds to hug and kiss your partner good-bye, rather than rushing out the door and yelling, "Love ya bye!"

When we make space for connection with our partners, everything gets easier. The connection lightens our load and helps us to remember that we're not doing it all alone. It helps us to reconnect with what made us fall in love with this person in the beginning. And it brings more of a lightness to the routine of every day life. It helps us connect to gratitude and when we are grateful for what we have, we see the world in an entirely different way.

What's one action you can take this week to slow down and connect with a partner or friend? Notice how it shifts your perception and makes you feel more full inside.

I'm Back!

Hello dear audience! I haven't posted to my blog in about two years and during that time, I've undergone massive changes both professionally and personally. The biggest thing that's happened in my life is that I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy-- who is now entering toddlerhood! Professionally during this time I completed a Transformational Coaching program with Leadership that Works.

With all of these changes, my area of focus has changed radically. Through lots of self-inquiry led by a longing for more fulfillment as well as an inner knowing, I've switched my area of focus to guiding highly sensitive people through periods of transition. I've been doing this work for over a year now and find it immensely gratifying and fulfilling.

My intention is to become more active in creating more content for my blog and website so that you, dear reader, have a sense of who I am and who I'm becoming.

In that vein, a poem of sorts came through me today that the fearless part of me feels compelled to share. I hope that it resonates with you and perhaps even gives you a moment of peace.

Inner Space

Can  you find stillness even in the chaos of living?
Can you allow the world to swirl around you...
And still remain steady?

If you can't... okay
Be with that.

Remember Rumi:
"This being human is a guest house..."
Wherever you are is okay.
Your awareness makes it okay.

When you don't allow for what is,
You get stuck.

What would it be like to accept your life
As it is?
What would it be like, to not need
The externals to change?
Can you allow yourself to breathe into
The swirling movement of life?

What would happen if you could let go?
What would you make room for?
Happiness...
A ray of joy perhaps....
More comfort with imperfection...

Make a bit of space for that right now...
What happens?


Sending you light and love,

Sarah