Mother and Child, Gustav Klimt. One of my most favorite works of art.
_________________
Birthing without fear is a phrase that held little weight
for me before Rose’s birth. When I was pregnant with her I never imagined
anything could go wrong or that the process of giving birth would pose any
challenges. So many women before me had said your body will know what to do.
Except despite a very healthy pregnancy there were complications during Rosie’s delivery that couldn’t have been foreseen. I don’t share her birth story because, well, it wasn’t the peaceful experience I had imagined and it left me feeling traumatized. I don’t want to impart that experience on anyone else or make another expectant mother feel like my situation was the norm.
Except despite a very healthy pregnancy there were complications during Rosie’s delivery that couldn’t have been foreseen. I don’t share her birth story because, well, it wasn’t the peaceful experience I had imagined and it left me feeling traumatized. I don’t want to impart that experience on anyone else or make another expectant mother feel like my situation was the norm.
I knew with this second pregnancy there would be new
challenges for me to face that weren’t on my radar at all last time.
Up until this point, reading Ina Mays books and stories of happy natural births left me subconsciously feeling bitter. But I didn’t label these feelings as such until talking to Stephen about it. On the surface I was relieved that I got healthy baby and survived the complications but deep down I think I was sad that things went so awry, so far from that “mental picture” I had painted of what it was going to be like. It doesn’t help that sometimes in the “natural parenting” community there is an unspoken competition to have the most magical, breath-taking birth experience.
Those negative emotions boiled inside me before I finally made the conscious decision to relinquish them. I began to meditate in the early hush of the morning, honing my thoughts to a more positive place. As the saying goes, comparison is the thief of joy. Not just comparing oneself to others but also comparing past experiences with the present. Bottom line, dwelling on the past just isn’t very zen.
Up until this point, reading Ina Mays books and stories of happy natural births left me subconsciously feeling bitter. But I didn’t label these feelings as such until talking to Stephen about it. On the surface I was relieved that I got healthy baby and survived the complications but deep down I think I was sad that things went so awry, so far from that “mental picture” I had painted of what it was going to be like. It doesn’t help that sometimes in the “natural parenting” community there is an unspoken competition to have the most magical, breath-taking birth experience.
Those negative emotions boiled inside me before I finally made the conscious decision to relinquish them. I began to meditate in the early hush of the morning, honing my thoughts to a more positive place. As the saying goes, comparison is the thief of joy. Not just comparing oneself to others but also comparing past experiences with the present. Bottom line, dwelling on the past just isn’t very zen.
I feel a tremendous level of peace now and while I can’t say
if I have shaken my anxieties for good, I do feel like I am in a better place.
I try to reaffirm it daily by enjoying the moment and embracing the changes of
my body as the little one grows.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you so much for taking the time to share your thoughts. From the bottom of my heart, I appreciate it immensely!