Author: Sophie Messager

  • Do as you’re told, dearie, or the end of independent midwifery.

    Do as you’re told, dearie, or the end of independent midwifery.

    I am fuming.

    At the beginning of January,Ā and with almost no warning, the NMC (Nurse and Midwifery Council) declared IMUK (Independent Midwifes UK) insurance policy not fit for purpose.

    And just like that, without warning, they put an end to independent midwifery practise in the UK.

    This has left many expectant mothers who had booked them (including some who were expecting to birth within the next few days) without the support that they had chosen and paid for.

    What the fuck?

    Who on earth decided to made such a stupid, unconsidered decision?

    Shouldn’t they have given some warning? some time for independent midwives to at least, finish provide support to the women who had booked them?

    As independent midwife Virginia Howes rightfully stated, if 80 male Drs were being treated in the same way ( 2 weeks notice of not being able to work and loss of income ) an action they believed to be unlawful, by their regulator, the whole country would be up in arms.

    Also the 80 independent midwives in question might represent only a small fraction of the 25 000Ā or so NHS midwives in the UK, BUT (and that is a big but) they represent a unique service that exists nowhere else, and will disappear if they go.

    I have an interest in this at both a personal and a professional level.

    On a personal level, 7 years ago for the birth of my second child, I hired independent midwives.

    Why did I do this? when I gave birth to my first child 11 years ago, the NHS system was different to what it is today. Community midwives in Cambridge still had case loading midwifery, which meant that I saw the same midwife all through my pregnancy. She even came to visit me at home on a few occasions. I had her mobile number so if I had any questions I could just call her. When I went into labour she was on call so she came to support me through my birth. I got to know properly and I liked her a lot.

    Fast forward 3 years later, the system had changed. Case loading was no more, replaced by team midwifery, meaning you were unlikely to see the same midwife through your pregnancy, let alone know the one who would turn up at your birth.

    In the meantime I had also trained to become a doula, and was halfway through my degree as an antenatal teacher. So I knew quite a lot more than before, and the idea of having someone turn up in my birth space that I hadn’t met before (read, someone I didn’t like) didn’t sit well with me at all.

    So this was the deciding factor in hiring an independent midwife. I just couldn’t leave this to chance. I had visions of an grumpyĀ  midwife who didn’t like homebirth inventing a spurious reason to transfer me to hospital. I had kind of had a taste of this at my first birth because I didn’t like the second midwife who came to join my named midwife right at the end before my baby was born.

    So we hired two fantastic independent midwives, Siobhan Taylor and Amy Cole, of Cambridge midwives. I had a doula too. My husband took some convincing due to the costs, and at times I wondered if this was a little bit too indulgent. But, trust me, your birth is a very important day in your life, which is probably going to impact the rest of your life in a more significant way than your wedding day. Yet if it was your wedding day you wouldn’t think “I can’t have a honeymoon/flowers/cake since I already have a venue and a caterer” right?

    Siobhan and Amy came to do all the antenatal care at my house. We got to know each other over many 2h long appointments. I developed a deeply trusting relationship with them. The respect was mutual. They respected and supported my choices. There never was a fight or dispute over my choices. It was wonderful. It was relaxed, warm and friendly. Most importantly, it meant that I was really looking forward to seeing them during my labour AND that I was completely trusting of their support. If they had said we needed to go to hospital, I would have trusted them completely. Together with my doula, Maddie McMahon, they provided the most supportive and seamless birth team ever. It was a wonderful, life affirming experience and worth every penny.

    Now compare this to what women get today: they rarely see the same midwife twice during their pregnancy. Most appointments are a rushed, 10 min box ticking affair, where there is no time to ask them how they are feeling for example. They have no named midwife, and when they leave a message on the answer phone of the practise, it doesn’t get picked up until 8am the next day (I tell my clients to always call the hospital if it is urgent).Ā  And course, when they go into labour, they have no idea who they are going to meet, and whether they will get on with them or not (I also tell my clients that they can ask for another midwife if they do not get on with the one assigned to them). I also know that this system is also something many midwifes also dislike very much, because it stops them from working in a way that is fulfilling for them too. As Milli Hill said in her recent article, it is “cattle care”.

    On a professional level I am completely irate at the idea of choice being taken away from women. And having supported women who hired independent midwifes, I know how much of a difference it makes to them too.

    Evidence demonstrates without a shadow of a doubt that continuity of care is safer for women, as well as being more satisfactory. The Cochrane database review concluded that

    This review suggests that women who received midwife-led continuity models of care were less likely to experience intervention and more likely to be satisfied with their care with at least comparable adverse outcomes for women or their infants than women who received other models of care.”

    So how does removing the rights of independent midwives to practise will affect women?

    First of all, right now, across the UK, there are women who had booked independent midwives and paid for their services, and are left with no other choice than to go back to the NHS.

    I can only imagine how devastated they are.

    Only last week I supported a mum through a homebirth. The mum in question had had a horrible experience during her previous birth. She was treated such an appalling callous manner, that she has made a formal complaint against the hospital. Of course she then didn’t want to go back to that hospital. And because she also knew that with the current homebirth service being pared down to its bare bones she was running the risk that nobody would be available to come and support her at home, she hired an independent midwife. She had a beautiful, peaceful , healing birth at home, with the kindest, gentlest most respectful support. Luckily for her, she birthed 20h before the time that the NMC announced as a cut off date after which independent midwives wouldn’t be able to support women during labour anymore. Can you imagine how she would have felt if she had birthed only 1 day later? The independent midwife was also beside herself with stress whilst facing the prospect that she may not be able to support this mum.

    It is similarly devastating for the 80 or so independent midwifes who are left with the option of not doing the job they loved and trained for, or to return to work within the NHS. I can’t see many wanting to return to the NHS because the very reasons most became independent was because they wanted to provide a different model of care to the one currently in existence within the NHS (namely, one to one midwifery and continuity of care). It most likely means that, in a system that is already stretched beyond belief, we will lose yet more midwives.

    Beside making the situation intolerable for women who had booked them, it also drastically diminishing women’s birth choices and options for now and for the future.

    It means that, for example, a woman who had a traumatic experience within the NHS will have no other choice but returning to the same hospital/trust care, or to birth alone It means that women whose pregnancy or birth choices fall “outside the guidelines”, Ā for example, women over 40 with their first baby, or women wanting to wait for labour to start naturally after 42 weeks pregnancy, women who are “too old”, “too big”, too or not enough whatever constitutes low risk within the forever tighter NHS guidelines, especially if they want to birth at home, will now find it almost impossible to find someone to support their choice without having a massive fight on their hands.

    It means that women who do not trust the NHS system will probably chose to birth alone (Birthing alone is completely legal in the UK-and a choice some women make, because it feels right for them -but I feel very strongly that women choosing to birth alone should do it out of positive choice, not out of fear).

    Ultimately it this lack of choice is neither safe nor desirable.

    It means that many mothers planning a homebirth won’t be able to find a midwife to support them, because some trusts have stopped providing homebirth support and many other trust have reduced the service so much that many times no midwives are available to support women at home. I have written about this before.

    It means that we will lose a lot of skills and experience from these amazing independent midwives. For example the only midwifes I know who are confident supporting a breech vaginal birth at independent midwives.

    This just isn’t right.

    So what can we do to help?

    Write to the NMC-birthrights have written them a letter which you can use as a template

    Write to your MP, and to Jeremy Hunt, Secretary of State for Health.

    Sign this petition

    Fill this survey

    Join the “save the midwife” alliance -they also have template letters to write to the NMC, your MP etc.

    Share this blog and help raise awareness of this situation.

  • Supporting empowered knowledge in a broken system – a birthworker’s dilemma

    Supporting empowered knowledge in a broken system – a birthworker’s dilemma

    The most important thing in everything I do is to support informed decision making and empowered choice.

    And yet it probably is the toughest balancing act.

    In a maternity system that isn’t fit for purpose, how do you prepare parents for what is waiting for them without scaring the shit out of them?

    I find this dilemma, this balancing act especially difficult, because one of the first things I tell parents in antenatal meetings, is how much I hate that everybody is telling them horror stories about birth, and how wrong thisĀ is.

    I have just supported a mum through a very empowering second birth. During her first birth she was treated in the most callous way, which left her and her husband traumatised. She told me she’d had so many friends who had bad birth experiences, and that she didn’t understand why people were putting up with it.

    I think that people put up with it because, whilst they know the experience wasn’t good, they buy into the crappy narrative that it was for the best, for the sake of a healthy baby, and do not always realise that what happened to them was unacceptable.

    It is not OK if the way you were treated made you feel like shit. Your experience matters, and whilst everybody wants a healthy baby and of course that matters, it isn’t all that matters either.

    I have no doubts that interventions are sometimes necessary and that they do save lives.

    I am talking about the fact that it isn’t necessarily how the birth unfolded that makes a good or a bad birth experience, rather how people were made to feel throughout their labour and birth.

    Obstetric violence is real, and there is no excuse for unkind behaviour, ever, even in an emergency. Birthrights has excellent info on it, and I have written about it here.

    What I often observe,Ā  sadly, is that the empowered decisions of second time parents often come through a shitty first birth experience.

    So what about those first time expectant parents? How do we prepare them for navigating the maternity system? How do we support them in preparing for a positive birth whilst also equipping them with managing whatever curve balls the maternity system might throw at them?

    Again, whilst acknowledging the important of a positive mindset (we will come back to that), we cannot ignore the fact that within our maternity system as it stand, only a minority of first time parents experience a positive birth.

    According to the Birthrights dignity in childbirth survey, only half of women had the birth they wanted, and

    • 31% of women said that they did not feel in control of their birth experience
      •23% of women were unhappy about being not given a choice of position during labour
      •20% of women said healthcare professionals did not always introduce themselves
      •18% of women did not feel that health professionals listened to them
      •24% of women who had an instrumental birth said they had not consented to procedures.

    I had a curious experience this week. I went to the local hospital for a routine eye check test. I am almost never a patient, and my interactions with the NHS are usually limited to my work as a doula. It was fascinating to experience the system through the patient point of view. In many respects, my experience was similar to what women experience in maternity care. I saw some lovely (and some not so lovely) nurses and doctors, some of which had excellent bedside manners, and some absolutely terrible. I got wheeled around through tests I had no idea where going to happen or why. I kind of knew some of the tests, having seen anĀ optometrist before, but nobody sat me down and explained what was going to happen. I was not asked for consent before procedures, some of the staff didn’t introduce themselves or muttered an unintelligible introduction under their breath, and one was so tense I felt like asking her what was wrong. Being the curious scientist thatĀ I am, I asked a lot of questions and also pointed at flaws in the testing process (like testing eye function with the same line of letters you can learn by heart). People’s reactions to my questioning, where met by either dismissal or a “yes we know it isn’t ideal but there is nothing we can do about it”. Whilst my doula experience made it somewhat easy to navigate, it was still (pardon the pun), an eye opening experience.

    ItĀ wasn’t an upsetting experience for me, just mildly annoying, but it gave me much insight about how it must feel like, when, in labour for the first time of your life, you turn up in labour at the hospital, especially if you’ve had no antenatal education whatsoever. It must be scary as hell!

    Antenatal education is an absolutely paramount part of having a positive experience. I have already written about that here.

    But this post isn’t just about antenatal education.

    This post is about the difficult of educating first time parents about navigating what they are up against, without creating fear, causing anxiety, lowering their confidence, and generating mistrust towards the maternity system.

    It’s hard, and although I have been doing this for over 6 years now, I am not sure I always get it right.

    But I try. I try very hard.

    One way I try and do this is by discussing the following topics, which all fall under the birth preferences hat : The physiology of birth, the place of birth and the best conditions for birth to unfold, and medical interventions.

    When weĀ discuss the physiology of birth I make parents aware of the needs of a labouring woman for darkness, privacy, and quiet. I tell parents that you need the same atmosphere to get the baby out that you needed to make the baby. This is because the hormone that drives labour contractions, oxytocin, is a shy hormone, and is inhibited by adrenalin inducing conditions, like bright lights and noises. This video comparing birth to sex illustrates this concept very well.

    We talk aboutĀ the importance of choosing to birth in the place where you feel the safest. WhenĀ discussing place of birth options with parents, we also debunk the myth that birth is always safer in the obstetrics unit of a hospital. Recent research like the birth place study actually shows it is safer for uncomplicated pregnancies to be in a birth centre or at home. Ā I’m not saying that birth centre or homebirth is for everyone. I just want to make sure that, whichever choice the parents end up making about where to have their baby,Ā their decision is based on evidence AND that they also know that it’s OKĀ to change their minds one way or another at any point, including during labour.

    We discuss all major medical interventions, such as induction, augmentation, monitoring, instrumental and caesarean births, so if any of thisĀ presents itself, they have heard about it, know what it entails and have thought about what they would prefer, beforehand.

    And of course all these topics are part of encouraging the parents to write their birth preferences. The process of doing this is an important part of the preparation. I encourage the parents to write 3 documents: one with their ideal birth, one for if interventions are needed, and one for a caesarean birth. I have written about the caesarean birth plan here.

    Throughout the discussion of all these topics, I try to be as balanced as possible, and I certainly want to avoid coming across as negative towards the maternity system, even though I know its failings, so I tell stories to illustrate many possible scenarios. Mostly, I talk about a continuum. Everything is a continuum. A Gauss curve. We talk about how we can’t predict how we will get on with the caregiver assigned to support us (This is one of the number one failings of our current system- the lack of continuity of care – HOW ON EARTH are you supposed to feel safe in such a vulnerable moment as birth with someone you’ve never met before?) and how to handle it if you don’t like who is looking after you : you just ask for somebody else. I have heard so many stories of parents who didn’t like their caregiver but either had no idea they could ask for someone else, or didn’t want to offend them. You only get one shot at this, so this isn’t the time to worry about somebody else’s feelings. By the way, you can just go to the ward desk to state your wishes, you don’t have to confront the person you don’t like. Remember: you will most likely will be doing them a favour as well, Ā because if you don’t like them, chance is they don’t like you either. They cannot say that, but you can.

    We talk about the grey areas in interventions, how sometimes what is suggested it really necessary, and sometimes it’s just because guidelines are being applied mindlessly. If the baby is well, and the mother is well, why not ask for more time?

    To navigate these situations, we talk about question asking skills and the BRAIN acronym. If you’re only going to do one thing, the BRAIN acronym equips parents with the right question asking skills to handle anything that’s being thrown at them

    BRAIN. Each letter is a reminder for a specific question whenever something you aren’t sure about is suggested to you :

    B-what are the Benefits?

    R-What are the Risks?

    A-what are the Alternatives?

    I-What does your Instinct tell you?

    N-what if we do Nothing (i.e. can we wait, decline the intervention?)

    Remember that informed consent is part of the code of conduct of every health professional. They cannot do anything to you without your consent. Sometimes saying “I haven’t given consent” or “I haven’t got enough information to make an informed decision” , or even “I’ve made an informed decision” may act as a magic word.

    That is a lot already but I’m not sure it is always enough, because, even when I’ve been present supporting a birth as a doula, I haven’t always been able to prevent unkindly behaviour, or to avoidĀ caregivers using coercive tactics to obtain consent (“You don’t want to put your baby at risk-do you?” which is a ridiculous question because no parents will ever put their baby at risk unnecessarily), but I have always been able to remind parents that they could ask more questions before making their decision, or to help get a few minutes on their own to reach a decision.

    Weaved in and out of this topic, as you have already gathered, is the concept of dignity and respect. If at any point parents feel uncared for, not listened to, not treated with kindness, or if their caregiver’s style simply isn’t to their liking, thenĀ they should expressĀ their concerns about this.

    Sometimes it’s very simple things. Sometimes well meaning behaviour is wrong too. I have heard so many stories of couples being put off by a quiet, silent midwife sitting in the corner in the birth centre. I knew she meant well by being unobtrusive, but many couples told me that they would have liked more active support. So I started telling couples to ask for more verbal reassurance or active support if they needed it. It worked, because recently, a couple told me this is exactly what happened to them. When they told the midwife they needed more support, she really rose to the challenge and became more verbal and openly supportive and they loved it. It completely transformed their birth experience.

    I often feel that when someone is unkind, we are all responsible if we say nothing, because how is that person going to know what impact they have on people if nobody tells them?

    So to summarise, how to prepare parents for a positive birth experience? A common analogy in the birth world is to compare giving birth to climbing a mountain: you’ll need preparation and a positive mindset, and certainly starting the climb with the intention to stand at the top to admire the awesome view with the most glorious “we did it” feeling is a great way to start. And you know that listening to the people who are worried and trying to discourage you with horror stories of people had accidents whilst climbing the mountain won’t help, whereas listening to those of people who had a great time will. But you also know that preparing yourself for whatever unpredictable event might happen : bad weather, having the right equipment and support, knowing the easiest route, etc isĀ also a very Ā important part of the preparation.

     

    If you are a birthworker and would like to work with me, look here. If you are a parent, head over here.

  • Doula myth series part 2: doulas are only for homebirths

    Doula myth series part 2: doulas are only for homebirths

    yurt

     

    After “I don’t need a doula because I have my partner” this is the second biggest myth about doulas

    I have lost count of how many times I’ve been asked “can I have a doula if I am planning to birth in the hospital”, so this myth is very real indeed.

    Let me set the record straight.

    Doulas aren’t crunchy, lentil knitting yogurt weaving tie dye wearing hippies who want you to freebirth in a yurt in the woods surrounded by unicorns (though if this what you want we’d be more than happy to support you-more on that later).

    Yes we are advocates of physiological births, but first and foremost we are advocates of informed choices and of women feeling supported in those choices.

    That’s the essence of it, really.

    We doulas are there to support you in your choices, the ones that make you feel strong and empowered, whatever those choices might be.

    To give you an idea about how varied doula birth support can be, this year (and this is pretty much reflective of all my years as a doula), I have supported women having an elective caesarean, giving birth in the obstetric unit (and that included transfer from home and from the birth centre during labour), having birth centre births and homebirths.

    I was as fiercely passionate defending the rights of a woman wanting to give birth at home as those of a woman wanting an elective caesarean birth, because, and this is the key message here, this was the right choice for her.

    direction

    One of the things I love most about being a doula is how much it has opened my mind. When I worked as a scientist, I mostly hung out with scientists, and whilst they were all different people, there was a certain mindset similarity between them. Since becoming a doula I have met lots of fascinating people with so many different personalities and so many unique quirks and paradoxical ways of thinking. It’s never boring. It never stop stretching my mind, I never stop learning. I love it.

    But what I have learnt above all is that there is no one size fits all (I wrote another post about it here).

    So as a doula I always try to approach my clients with a completely open mind. Without a preconceived idea of what is right for them. They know what is right for them. I don’t. My job is to help them find out, amongst the sea of options available, what options make them feel safe, strong and empowered.

    Some women feel safer giving birth at home, some in the birth centre, some in the obstetric unit.

    Some women need a lot of physical support during labour (like massage and touch), some labour best if left to their own devices, and some cannot bear to be touched. Some women like music, or aromatherapy oils in the background, some don’t.Ā  Some like to labour in water, some prefer to be on dry land. etc.

    And things can change to, during labour, sometimes women change their mind (like deciding to stay at home after planning a hospital birth, or the opposite). And this is totally ok with us too. We have no set ways, no preconceived ideas. We want to get to know you and find out how best we can support you.

    As doula trainer Maddie McMahon says, doulas are the chameleons of the birth world. We are constantly adapting and responding to the circumstances and the environment.

    chameleon

    So yes, some women prefer to give birth in a low key environment, but doulas aren’t just for women giving birth at home.

     

    If you are a birthworker and this resonates with you- look here.

    If you are pregnant and feel drawn to work with me, head over here

  • Reiki – the ultimate tool for birthworkers

    Reiki – the ultimate tool for birthworkers

    I’ve been using Reiki to support my work as a doula every since I started attending births 7 years ago , and I have been meaning to write down my thoughts about this for a while.

    I think Reiki is the ultimate tool for birthworkers, one that gives you the ability to support yourself, your clients, and everybody present in the birth room.

    I remember a couple of years ago, a friend asked if I used Reiki at births. I first said no, because I thought I had never actively channelled it into the mum’s body, but when I thought about it I realised I used it all the time to hold the space, and hold myself and the atmosphere in the room energetically.

    The only thing is that I didn’t do it so consciously at the time so didn’t realise I was doing it. It took me by surprise when clients said things referring to it in their feedback, like

    ” She created a positive, calm feeling in the room which I almost didn’t appreciate until it was all over and Sophie had gone home and it suddenly just felt like a hospital room again.Ā  ”

    or

    ” Sophie’s warmth could be felt in the house even after she left.”

    In fact during the first ever birth I attending I actively channelled energy into the mum’s shoulders at her request, with amazing effects (the baby, who wasn’t engaged, immediately dropped down into the pelvis-the change of shape in the mum’s bump was immediate and very noticeable). And then I also realised that, because Reiki tended to flow out of my hands anyway regardless of whether I intended it to or not, I had mostly likely channelled healing into labouring mothers whist massaging their back or holding them as well.

    I think that when you are present at births, it’s impossible not to develop your own spirituality, because there is a real, amazing sense of energetic shift during the labour and immediately after a baby has been born. It is a huge wave of energy in the room . It is so palpable, you can almost touch it.

    To quote Grantley Dick Read:

    ” It is not only that we want to bring about an easy labor, without risking injury to the mother or the child; we must go further. We must understand that childbirth is fundamentally a spiritual, as well as a physical, achievement. The birth of a child is the ultimate perfection of human love.”

    So how can you use Reiki for as a birthworker?

    First you can use it for yourself, second you can use it to help your clients, third you can use it to help everybody else in the room.

    For yourself

    lotus

    Reiki is first and foremost a self healing and self development technique. So when you learn to use Reiki, you are the first one to reap the benefits! Being a birthworker is a very demanding job on a physical, emotional and spiritual level, so being able to treat yourself with Reiki is a very good self care tool indeed.

    Reiki will help you grow and heal your own personal wounds. It is a very important thing as a healer, or any giving profession, because we tend to naturally want to heal other people’s wounds before attending to our own (This is a very good article with a great analogy on this topic).

    You can use Reiki at any time you need it to treat yourself, to give yourself a much needed energy boost. Self treatment with Reiki is like having a lovely, nurturing and warming meditation. It is the ultimate self care tool!

    If anything stressful happens (be it related to your birthwork or not!), sitting down for a few moments, doing Reiki on your heart is the fastest way to get yourself back to a calm state (it works wonders when my children push my buttons!).

    It is also a brilliant way of sending yourself to sleep at anytime when you find sleep a little more challenging (phantom texts, anyone?).

    What I love the most about it, is that it is always with me! No need to worry about having forgotten a tool (like say a massage tool), because it’s always on you!

    When on call waiting for a birth, and the wait gets the better of you, a Reiki session can get you back in the stress free zone. I find that after a treatment I once again trust that everything will be all right. Again during the on call if you feel a cold coming on and you’re thinking “Oh I can’t be ill right now”, a Reiki self treatment at bedtime might mean that you wake up refreshed and well.

    If you are trained at level 2, you can use the Reiki symbols to empower wishes and goals in both space and time. For example when I go on call I like to write positive wishes for the birth on a piece of paper, and also ask for Reiki to be sent to myself at the time of the birth, so that I can receive it automatically when I need it.

    When you get “the call” you can give yourself a brief treatment before joining your client, to ensure that you are in a centered, Ā grounded state.

    During a birth, you can call on Reiki to provide you with a boost of energy or lift your mood during a long labour. I find it especially helpful during those “dark night of the soul” moments at 3am.

    Reiki can help you stay grounded and in a state of love towards all involved (I have written a blog about it called “choosing love over fear as a birthworker”), so that you are more able to deal with whatever curveballs are thrown at you , including managing your own energy, and that of the other people in the room (more on that in the “for everybody who enters the room” Ā paragraph). It is very simple, if you feel unsure about anything, just tune into the Reiki energy, and ask for help!

    After the birth, using Reiki is also a lovely and easy way to get yourself back to a clear, grounded, calm space and can help you process the birth and the emotions associated with it. Even when I am exhausted after a long birth, it only takes 5 min whilst lying in bed to clear myself of the birth energies. It also helps me wind down when I am too wired to sleep.

    For your clients

    belly-heart

    The first advantage for your client is that you are more likely to be in a centered, grounded state. This really is the essence of being a present birthworker, and the most important point in my opinion. Offering the treatment to your client comes second.

    You can offer Reiki to your clients during pregnancy, labour and birth, and during the postpartum period.

    During pregnancy it can be a wonderful way for a pregnant woman to relax, to connect with her baby, and to help process any fears or worries she may have about the birth. It is also a wonderful way for you to connect at a deeper level with your client ,which also makes for a better labour support experience. I find it especially helpful in situations of stress such as when a women is postdates and anxious for labour to begin.

    During labour you can use Reiki to help your client stay calm and help her cope better with the contractions. There isn’t much written about the topic, but American Doctor Jeri Mills have a lovely except of her book which illustrates how successfully Reiki can be used during labour.

    I have used it many times at births and clients have commented on the lovely warm energy that came out of my hands, and how it made them feel good and helped them cope better with the contractions.

    During the postpartum period, a Reiki treatment is a truly lovely way of nurturing and honouring the new mama and making her feel truly cared for (as she should be- I have written about this here). I once treated a new mum only about a week postpartum, I had been her doula at her birth, and had given her Reiki during the birth as well. She really wasn’t into this kind of things before the birth, but to my surprise, she asked for a full treatment, and it was one of the most lovely and life affirming experiences I had. She cried during the treatment, but these were tears of joy not sadness. She said she felt the treatment acknowledged the hard physical work her body had been through to birth her baby. She said it felt like I was saying thank you to her muscles, thank you to her uterus. It was beautiful and magical for us both.

    It can also be a symbolic way to close the circle of support, after the birth, as a way to get closure and say goodbye to your client in a way that is positive and meaningful for both of you.

    For everybody who enters the birth room

    buddha

    Again, first and foremost by staying in a grounded, loving state, we can positively influence what is happening in the birth room.

    We cannot control who enters the space, but I believe that by sending loving, positive intentions (and you can do this ahead of labour starting), we can positively influence what is happening, and who is entering the space.

    Our job is to stay in a state of love over fear, at all times. Sometimes it is easy and you and the medical staff present really enter a true teamwork and it is lovely and rewarding.

    Sometimes, it isn’t easy, especially when unkind people enter the space. I wrote a post about this called “choosing love over fear as a birthworker“. We cannot control who enters the space, and we cannot control the behaviour of the people who enter the space. But we are in charge of our own reactions.

    I also find it helpful to remind myself that even if it isn’t clear to me at the time, things are usually unfolding the way they are meant to.

    Tuning into Reiki can really help you shift back to a state of love in this type of situation. We cannot fight fear with fear, but by actively tuning into a loving, connected, and benevolent state of being, I believe we can positively influence the behaviour of less than gentle people, by making them feel safe. I choose to see the people who display this kind of behaviour as victims of a system which encourages disconnection.

     

    I run Reiki for birthworkers workshops-have a look if this resonates with you and you feel drawn to working with me.

  • Anger, shame and awe, a reflection on visiting a refugee camp in Dunkirk

    Anger, shame and awe, a reflection on visiting a refugee camp in Dunkirk

    I am just back from spending a day helping volunteers and women in a refugee camp near Dunkirk, in the North of France.

    I am in shock, and I am finding it hard to find the words to express the multiple layers of emotion this trip elicited.

    I started planning for this trip months ago, before the summer, by collecting as many cheap or donated baby carriers as I could. I knew women would find it easier and more comfortable to move around using slings to carry their babies rather than their arms or pushing buggies over bumpy ground.

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    The opportunity presented itself at the last minute, thanks to a client giving birth to her baby earlier than expected, and me being off call, allowing me to accompany my colleagues on the trip.

    I travelled with Maddie McMahon (and her teenage son Daniel), and Lindsey Middlemiss, who are both breastfeeding counsellors as well as doulas. Lindsey had already done quite a few trips to provide breastfeeding and infant feeding support to both women and volunteers.

    In a human crisis situation, such as this refugee camp, is it extremely important for women to breastfeed their babies, because it is nearly impossible in such conditions to prepare formula feedsĀ  safely. So education on the matter is paramount (read this if you want to know more).

    I went with the hope of helping women carry their babies more comfortably. I am a babywearing consultant and trainer so this is something I am skilled in and was looking forward to helping with.

    I fully expected to see squalor and human misery, and to be upset by it, but I also hoped to see moments of grace, of human connection in the adversity. There weren’t any, really.

    Mostly, I feel anger, shame, and awe.

    Note: there aren’t any pictures of the refugees because volunteers asked us not to take any to protect their identity. Taking pictures was tricky anyway – the police accosted me whilst I was taking a picture and told me it was forbidden to take any (I wonder if this is to avoid the news of the bad state of the camp being publicised?), so we could only take them when no one was around.

    Carrying supplies to the women centre
    Carrying supplies to the women centre
    Lindsey, Daniel and Maddie
    Lindsey, Daniel and Maddie
    The children centre
    The children centre

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Anger

    I feel angry at seeing fellow human being treated like animals. In the La Liniere camp, based in Grande-Synthe, near Dunkirk, families of 2 adults and 3 kids live in tiny, 6 square foot non-insulated wooden huts (see pictures below). They have a small fuel heater inside, but it cannot be used all the time, and people are cold at night. The huts are made of thin wood which hasn’t been treated and is starting to show signs of rot. It is damp, it is cold. The camp has basic toilets and shower blocks (squat toilets with shower heads above them), but again those buildings aren’t heated. Going for a wee in them was uncomfortable enough as it was freezing. I can’t imagine having to undress completely to shower.

    the damp huts
    the damp huts
    muddy, wet ground
    muddy, wet ground
    more huts
    more huts

     

     

     

     

    The camp was built without any provision for food, community spaces, or anything else than those huts and toilet blocks. All the other buildings were all built by volunteers. The community spaces are very basic and again, unheated. I spent a day in the Women’s Center there (see pictures below) wearing lots of layers, a thick coat, hat and gloves, warm boots with wool socks, and I was still cold.

    Yes I know this camp is an improvement on the previous muddy camp with tents that was there before (see pictures here), but it still doesn’t feel like bearable living conditions, especially for young children and babies. At the time of our trip we were told they were 9 babies in the camp.

    Whilst I was there I saw the police arresting two men. Being French I could hear everything they said, and they were unkind for no reason. They were rough with the men they arrested, one of them made eye contact with me, and as I tried to convey compassion in my gaze, he said to me “I am not an animal”. The police and the camp guards’ body language I saw was superior and contemptuous.

    The French association managing the camp, Afeji, provides guards and cleans the sanitary blocks but that’s it.

    Everything else is in the hands of volunteers. Problem is, they are all very young (mostly in their early twenties, students on their gap year) and inexperienced. There is no NGO overseeing the whole camp, and they lack training, management and supervision. It was very obvious whilst I was there that there just aren’t enough volunteers to go around, and that they are mostly fire fighting because they aren’t enough experienced people managing or overseeing the whole operation. There is also a very high turnover of volunteers, so people learn to manage things their own way. This makes for a very chaotic place.

    Maddie in the women centre
    Maddie in the women centre

    There is nobody providing support or mentoring for these volunteers as they struggle to manage the constant demands put on them and the mild conflicts happening all the time. On the morning of our visit, there was no electricity in the Women’s Centre. This meant that women couldn’t access clothes (stored in a dark container) or charge their phones (the only source of electricity being in that building), which led to frayed tempers. Some of the volunteers were close to breaking point.

    There were lots of kids around, but not much for them to do. Some volunteers organised colouring and drawing, but there weren’t enough people to keep them occupied the whole time. They were eager to learn and some wrote series of numbers down, asking us to correct them. There is no official school at the camp.

    The whole place was bleak, damp and cold.

    I imagined myself trying to raise my children in these conditions and shuddered.

    The people I spoke to had mostly come from Kurdish Iraq, had been there for months desperately trying to cross over to the UK. They told of harrowing experiences trying to board lorries illegally at night, risking their lives, with their children (including drugging babies to keep them quiet).

    The women I saw and spoke to looked broken and sad, with dark circles under their eyes.

    They were none of the moments of grace, of human connection I had hoped to see in the middle of the pain.

    Shame

    I felt ashamed of my native country for treating people like this. I felt ashamed of my resident country for not doing anything about it either. I felt ashamed of being both a French citizen and a UK resident, I felt ashamed that almost all the volunteers were British – where were the French volunteers when this is happening on their doorstep?

    We took a trip to the local supermarket to purchase much needed milk and nappies for the Women’s Centre distribution centre. There I felt shocked at the contrast of luxury and warmth and people going about their week end shopping, oblivious to the crisis happening only a few miles away. There weren’t any collection boxes or anything like that at the supermarket. I couldn’t help but wonder if the local residents knew about this camp and just didn’t care, or if they simply didn’t know it was there.

    This was the first time I became so acutely aware of my privilege, and I felt ashamed of it too.

    When I finally came home in the evening, I felt ashamed of my nice warm house, which suddenly felt so luxurious and spacious compared to the conditions I had just experienced.

    The cooking area in the women centre
    The cooking area in the women centre

    Awe

    Despite the squalor and bad conditions, the small team of 30 or so volunteers manages to make do amongst the chaos and deliver hot meals to several hundred residents, twice a day, every day, as well as supplying essentials like clothes and toiletries. This is no small feat.

    The various camps around the area are receiving supplies from a huge warehouse called L’auberge des migrants, which receives donations of food and clothing etc and has a huge group of volunteers running the operation.

    All these people, who turn up and give their time and effort for cold and drudgery, for so little reward, is just amazing.

    Lindsey and a volunteer
    Lindsey and a volunteer

    So what did we achieve?

    We came to deliver breastfeeding support training and babywearing training but I could see from looking and talking to people that it was very likely that the volunteers we trained wouldn’t be there for long. They were very grateful for the learning though, as they had no idea that formula feeding was so unsafe in these circumstances.

    Maddie and Lindsey trained the volunteers in the importance of exclusive breastfeeding and safe formula feeding. Most of the mums there mixed fed, and the volunteers had no idea for instance, that powdered formula couldn’t be prepared safely on the camp due to the lack of proper water heating and sterilising facilities.

    I thought I would help the mothers wear their babies, and I did help a couple. Doing this I soon realised that with the language barrier, and with the cold and hurried atmosphere, there wouldn’t be time for the gentle and slow way I am accustomed to teach. It had to be very basic, and there was no time for my usual safety and ergonomics talk, and for the lovely gentle paced approach I am used to. It had to be sharp and straight to the point. The women I helped didn’t hang around.

    When I got slings out of my bag, many women just grabbed carriers and disappeared with them straight away, so I didn’t have a chance to help them use them appropriately.

    Getting ready to teach volunteers about slings
    Getting ready to teach volunteers about slings

    It also became very evident that the women there weren’t keen on the more comfy carriers I had, like Meitais, because they just didn’t know how to use them (neither did the volunteers), so they strongly preferred the high street type carriers that they recognised instead. It was a big lesson for me, because I am so used to steering away from these carriers. But here, given the circumstances, they might actually be a safer choice.

    I quickly realised it made more sense showing the volunteers how to help the women so I spent some time showing them how to use the donated carriers they had, and also how to make an emergency carrier using a scarf. The volunteers were delighted because they had all these donated carriers but didn’t know how to use them. Again it had to be very quick (because our session with the volunteers kept being interrupted by women and children needing something), so there was none of my usual lengthy explanations. It was a very useful learning experience for me in being “straight to the point”.

     

    What now?

    Mostly I am trying to raise awareness about the plight of the refugees in the camp and see how best I can help.

    I’m contacting French people to find out how much locals know about the camps and why there aren’t more French volunteers in the camps

    I’ve been in contact with French people trying to find local breastfeeding support.

    I’m going to keep on collecting baby carriers with a view to donating some more.

    Maddie suggested I make laminated picture tutorials for the volunteers. It makes more sense because unless I can translate all the carriers instructions manuals into the various languages spoken by the refugees, it isn’t going to help much. I will do this and ensure the documents find their way to the Women’s Centre.

     

    What can you do to help?

    First, please share this blog or Maddie’s one widely to help raise awareness.

    Second, please considerĀ donating money- Lindsey has created an infant feeding team fundraising page

    Third, please consider going and volunteer to help at the camp- you can contact the women centre here

    Fourth, I will carry on collecting slings to send to them-if you have some you can send to me, I will gladly accept them.

    Thank you.

     

  • Slow the f*ck down-how to look after yourself after the birth of your baby

    Slow the f*ck down-how to look after yourself after the birth of your baby

    Looking after new mums recently, I’ve been reminded how the message we get from our culture is seriously wrong.

    This emphasis on “getting back to normal” is bullshit

    There is no “normal” just after you’ve had a baby.

    This isn’t a bloodyĀ race.

    Yet everything is geared towards you pretending that nothing has happened, and the most important thing is that you go back as fast as you can towards theĀ pretence that everything is all right. Get dressed in pretty clothes, get your makeup on, get your “shape” back (don’t even get me started on that one).

    All the focus is on the baby-nobody asks the mum how she is doing and how she feels and whether she looks after herself properly.

    All the presents are for the baby.

    It’s all WRONG!

    The baby doesn’t give a fuck about the bloody stuffed bear or the endless bouquets of flowers!

    Yes those flowers sure are pretty but you can’t eat them and there are no good when your fridge is empty and you have to survive on chocolate biscuits (not that there is anything wrong with chocolate biscuits by the way-I believe all new mums deserve them, but you can’t feel well for very long without proper nutritious meals).

    I see new mums not having naps because they have too many visitors interrupting their days. New mums getting themselves overtired because they feel they have to keep going.

    You know what the secret to postpartum recovery is?

    Slow the fuck down!

    sloth with baby

    In a world that glorifies busy, it is a bit of revolutionary concept.

    Did you know that all around the world (this used to include the Western world too-we just have lost the way), new mums don’t lift a finger during the first 40 days after birth? That relatives and friends rally round to cook gorgeous restorative foods? That women just lay in bed with their baby, and that they get massaged every day, complete with cloth wrapping of the abdomen and hips?

    I’m not making it up-EVERY culture I have questioned about this has a form of that going. They haven’t lost their wisdom yet and they know that a woman who has singlehandedly grown and birthed a whole new human being needs to rest and recover from it.

    I hear you saying “but my partner only gets 2 weeks’ paternity leave-how am I supposed to do that?”.

    You need to plan for your recovery BEFORE the birth. Just like you have a birth plan, you need a postnatal recovery plan. I have already written about thisĀ here and here.

    In the first 6 weeks postpartum, you need to prioritise good eating and resting over everything else.

    If you can get help in the form of a friendly relative or two (emphasis on friendly here-you really don’t want a bossy and critical mother in law looking after you during that sensitive time), a gang of friends or a doula, great!

    If you can’t, then depending what works for you/what you can afford, plan and batch freeze easily reheated food ahead of time. Have food delivered. Hire a cleaner/ a mother’s helper. Write down your list of daily/weekly chores prior to the birth, sit down with your partner and work out what you can afford to dump or outsource during those first few weeks. Anything and anybody who can help you prioritise eating well and resting over anything else.

    Make sure you plan to have daily naps (that includes not having visitors around the time of said naps). Bring your baby to bed with you if she won’t sleep without you.

    Tell all your friends and a family about your plans.

    Tell them you intend to slow the fuck down and that you deserve it and expect them to support you.

    Shout from the rooftop what you intend to do and what they can do to support you. Someone who delivers a casserole, tidies your kitchen, folds the laundry, and looks after your baby/other kids whilst you have a long shower or a nap-is a lot more valuable to you thanĀ one who comes in, expects to be given tea and entertained, and just wants to cuddle your baby instead of looking after you.

    If you work with expectant and new mothers, please please please, spread this message around!

    My hope is that as more and more new mums realise the value of this new way of applying ancient knowledge, it will help shift our culture and more mums will have heard about it and expect it to be normal.

    If you are pregnant and feel drawn to work with me, head over here. If you are a birthworker and this resonates with you- look here.

     

  • Choosing love over fear as a birthworker

    Choosing love over fear as a birthworker

    heart-700141_1920

    As a doula the biggest lesson since I started supporting women has been to choose love over fear.

    I remember very early on in my doula life I witnessed a very traumatic birth -it was traumatic for the parents, and it was extremely traumatic for me. I cried for days afterwards. The mother had an unnecessary instrumental birth and I saw it all happen, and it was very shocking to witness. It was the first time I witnessed obstetric violence (if this term is new to you-it is sadly very real, and you can read about it here).

    And yet in the midst of this – I was upset, I was angry, and I hadn’t slept for 2 nights in a row, so I really wasn’t in an emotionally stable state -I was forced to make a choice between love and fear. The mother had to go to theatre and when I met the parents in the recovery room, a nurse abruptly asked who I was, and stated that there was no space and that I would have to go and wait outside. I remember vividly thinking very fast that I had two choices: challenge her by saying we had been granted the right to be there by the head of midwifery (fear), or try to win her trust (love). I heard my mentor’s voice in my head saying “when there is a midwife you don’t like in the room-try to ask yourself what you like about her”. The nurse was a big African mama -a larger than life character – and I reminded myself that I loved this kind of woman,Ā  and I asked her where she was from, stating that I loved her accent. Curiously, in the middle of all this, my question was really genuine. She looked very surprised, and stated where she was from and saying that people didn’t usually like her accent. I restated that I loved it. She never asked me to leave after that.

    This lesson is still following me 4 years later, as I have bumped into this particular nurse on many occasions since, including last week, and every time we greet each other like old friends. I guess this wouldn’t be the case if I had chosen the fear route. I think the Universe keeps on putting her on my path so I do not forget this lesson.

    I’m not trying to gloat here- because even as I write this, I find it hard to believe that I found the strength to do this.

    But the interesting thing is that, at the time, doing this soothed my anger and upset.

    I think I needed the reminder recently. Sometimes when medical interventions happenĀ during a birth and there is some level of emergency, and the adrenalin is high in the room, sometimes people aren’t gentle or caring and it is really hard to witness and shift out of the fear and stay grounded in love.

    I have had to remind myself that those who perpetuate violence as also victims of a system which discourages connection and kindness.

    RecentlyĀ  I didn’t quite managed to stay as grounded as I would have liked because things happened too fast. I feel very protective of the mothers I doula, especially during labour and birth, and it is so difficult to be a gentle warrior and not let the anger rise through when they are treated without respect. I think that’s why I bumped into thisĀ particular nurse again.

    We have all heard Gandhi’s “be the change you want to be in the world” and Martin Luther King’s ” Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

    This cannot be any truer than in the life of a birthworker

    As birthkeepers, especially in the midst of unkind behaviour, we cannot help those expressing this behaviour by being unkind back.

    hand

     

    I struggle a lot with finding the right balance with this, and I don’t always get it right.

    Some behaviours, like a doctor who attempts to examine a mother without introducing him or herself (this is, sadly quite common-according to a Birthrights survey-it happens about 20% of the time, 26% in London), I tryĀ to stop by plastering a big smile on my face, placing myself between the doctor and the mother and introducing her and her partner, then asking the doctor their name.

    It’s not easy when what I really I want to say is “who the fuck do you think you are sticking your fingers inside someone’s vagina without introducing yourself?”.

    But I don’t think it would help the doctor or the mother, or the situation much if I said that.

    So I try to stay grounded, and send positive loving energy around.

    It isn’t easy.

    Becoming a Reiki practitioner has helped highlight this for me.

    Recently at a birth, as I walked out to get some water, I saw a registrar I really dislike because I have seen her doing this not introducing business, and being brusque and callous with clients in the past.

    My client was due to have an obstetric review, and I caught myself thinking “please not her!”. Then I caught myself in that state of fear and shifted it quickly to “if she comes in, please let her be kind and gentle”. Then of course somebody else came in.

    Beside trying to positively affect energy and behaviour in the room, I also have to do some work choosing love over fear for myself. After a birth which ends in lots of interventions that the mother was hoping to avoid, I cannot help but go through some with “what ifs”, and wonder if I could have facilitated a gentler, a better outcome, if only I had done this or that sooner.

    But I am getting much better at it over the years. I catch myself into this narrative and I am able to step back, watch it, and stop it.

    I am also getting better at accepting that I haven’t “failed” by avoiding certain interventions during labour, or preventing unkind caregivers from interacting with her.

    I am slowly accepting that I am not responsible for the behaviour of those who enter her space. I am only responsible for my own behaviour, and how I choose to hold the space, and react to what I witness.

    I am getting better at catching myself going into a fear mode and giving myself a mental kick up the arse to get back into a grounded, loving state.

    I am getting better at returning myself to a peaceful state.

    I still have an enormous amount of work to do- but I am learning.

    If you are pregnant and feel drawn to work with me, head over here. If you are a birthworker and this resonates with you- look here.

  • Have you got impostor syndrome? Here’s how I dealt with mine.

    Have you got impostor syndrome? Here’s how I dealt with mine.

    Do you sometimes suffer from impostor syndrome? Do you worry that you do not know enough, that you haven’t got enough to offer?

    I’ve been reminded this week that we all have different levels of knowledge. That others know more than us and that we know more than others. This doesn’t mean that we do not have much to offer. And there is nothing to be gained by belittling each other’s levels of knowledge.

    I have suffered from impostor syndrome at every career change in my life.

    When I moved from academia to biotech, I suffered from it big time. All I knew was very specific, in depth academic knowledge, and suddenly I felt like a fraud, because my new knowledge was a lot wider and less deep. It took me I think at least a couple of years to shake that. In fact, a similar way to what I wrote in my “head versus hand knowledge” post, it took other people to point it out to me, for me to start acknowledging that what I was doing was worthwhile.

    A friend, who had stayed in the academic sector, expressed awe at the breadth of my knowledge. Another friend drew me this little cartoon he called “the field of knowledge”. It looked like this silly little drawing drawing below : the stick man at the bottom of the pit on the left of the picture is an academic, digging one deep hole. The other little stick men on the pits on the right are digging lots of little, shallower holes, but many more of them. My friend challenged me by saying: “who’s to say that one kind of knowledge is better than the others? Who’s to say that depth is better than breadth?”. This was a light bulb moment and was very grateful to this friend for giving me confidence like this.

    drawing

     

    Whilst still working as a scientist, I embarked on a women in science mentoring programme. At first, I was assigned a mentor, and it was a very useful, life affirming experience. But a couple of years into the programme I was asked to mentor someone myself. My first reaction was to refuse: I wasn’t qualified or experienced enough. But the programme organiser insisted so I took on a mentee, and you know what? I really enjoyed it, and so did the mentee. I think I did a good job, and I learnt a lot from the process.

    Of course I felt the same when I started working an antenatal teacher, slightly less so as a new babywearing consultant, because the profession was brand new at the time in the UK, and quite a lot when I started as a doula, then later on as a workshop facilitator. I was worried somebody would find out I was very green and call me a fraud. Now I look back and I think what a load of crap!

    For starters, knowledge takes many forms – not just the academic kind. Self learning and experience aren’t as acknowledged as academic credential in our culture, and intuitive knowledge is totally dismissed. You can only truly learn your craft by doing it. A bit like when you’ve just got your driving licence, and you find you have to really concentrate at turning the wheel, at using the clutch and looking into the mirrors. When you have had enough practice driving doesn’t feel like a tricky activity at all – in fact you can often drive lost in your thoughts, and not realise that until you have arrived at your destination.

    I have learnt a tremendous amount about myself and others, with an incredible level of depth, since I became a doula. I have learnt many skills, both practical and emotional, again by reading, attending conferences, workshops and study days. I have learnt a lot from my brilliant, supportive mentor when I was a new doula. She helped me trust myself and grow in my own way. But mostly I have learnt how to be a doula by being a doula. By watching women labour and give birth and watching how the hospital system work and drawing lessons from it.

    Since I became a workshop facilitator I have learnt yet another layer of knowledge which makes my serving of women even better. I have also learnt that I will never stop learning. And that every birth is different and not to have any preconceived ideas and expectations.

    Some coming back to the title of this post, there will always be people who know more and people who know less than you. And that’s OK. It doesn’t mean that you don’t have a lot to offer. If the journey of life is like climbing a mountain, there will always people further up and further down the path than you. And as you reach a ridge, catch your breath and reflect on how far you’ve come, you’ll see that the mountain actually carries on.

    So whichever ridge of the mountain you are standing on right now, there are people who can benefit from our knowledge and experience.

    You can help them climb up, and there are others further up who can help you climb up too.

    What matters most is that you help people go up in a way that is right for them, and that you are both honest and humble about your level of knowledge.

    By stepping into who we really are and where we are at, we are both acknowledging our own journey and helping other acknowledge theirs too.

     

  • There is no "one size fits all"

    There is no "one size fits all"

    right way

    This week I was asked to do a video on how the way I think about the people I work with (pregnant women, birthing and new families, and birthworkers) has changed since I started doing what I do.

    I was also asked why the transformation I facilitated in my clients means so much to me.

    The first thing that popped into my head was a bell curve, experience, and confidence.

    You see before I left science to become a doula I mostly only had theoretical knowledge about pregnancy, birth and parenthood.

    Great theoretical knowledge, yes, but theoretical nonetheless.

    Then I started working with pregnant women, their partners, and I also started to teach workshops to birthworkers.

    Over the course of the first 2 couple of years I had a revelation : Nothing is black and white, and we are all so different.

    For EVERYTHING there is a bell curve of normal. With some people at one end of the spectrum, some in the middle and some at the other end. All normal.

    I keep learning this everyday and in every aspect of my personal and professional life. I am very humbled and grateful for the learning.

    For example I get questions like “which sling do you recommend”. I don’t. They are like jeans or shoes. Try before you buy. What works for your friend may not work for you.

    Or I get asked “how soon after a caesarean can I practise the closing the bones massage”. I don’t know. Ask the mum how she feels. Of course waiting until the scar has healed might be common sense, but some mums might be ready after 2 or 3 weeks and some not after even 6. Same for slings-post caesarean, some mums feel ready to carry their babies after days, some not even after weeks. Some mums like the feeling of support that a thick, padded carrier belt on their tummy, some hate it and want nothing near there at all.

    I get the same questions about babies “when will my baby sleep through the night”? I don’t know, just like I can’t tell you at what age your baby will start to walk. Your baby is unique, like you. But I can help you work strategies to manage the sleepless nights.

    Please, try not to compare yourself to other mums, or to compare your baby to other babies. Usually it doesn’t lead to very positive feelings as we focus on what we perceive is “better” in other families.

    We are all different, and unique

    Yet many parents looks up to other parents or to parenting “experts” for answers. Professionals do the same to other, more experienced professionals.

    Often we are looking for a “magic trick” simple answer to a complex problem.

    fairy-1608684_1920

    But what if it wasn’t like that, what if we recognised we can all learn from each other, and more importantly from ourselves?

    Supporters- ask the mum how she feels, only she knows how she feels, what is comfy, what suits her. The answers are not to be provided by you but by the person you are supporting, Your role as a supporter is to help the parents find their own answers.

    This is much more powerful as support than “teaching” people your way of doing things. This is where real confidence comes from. From believing that you can, that you have the answers, that you know what is right for you and your baby.

    It doesn’t means that you can’t look at great role models and use other people’s ideas-but it means that you do so mindfully, and by making the decision yourself-not by asking someone else to tell you what to do.

    People who pretend that their “one size fits all approach” or that they have a magic trick to guarantee that you’ll have a pain free birth or that your baby will sleep through the night if you do what they say, they are talking bullshit.

    Life just doesn’t work like that.

    And when parents ask so-called well intentioned “experts” what to do-be it with books or in real life, and they can’t manage to achieve what has been suggested-they often feel like a failure.

    New parenthood is such a vulnerable period, and I am so pissed off that so many people are just cashing in to that vulnerability.

    We are all unique.

    So why do we always look for others, for “experts” to help us find the answers to our questions?

    I think our education has a lot to answer for, where from a very early age we are led to believe that the answers always lie outside ourselves.

    I know it certainly has taken me long time, and the journey out of academia and dogma to find my own ways to do things, and become confident in the process.

    I also believe our “plaster society” (put a plaster on itand hey-problem gone!) encourages us far too much to seek simple “quick fixes” behaviourist answers to complex issues that require complex and long term solutions.

    I love to support you as you take your own journey into learning to listen to your instincts, to your inner voice, finding your own answers.

    team-386673_1280

    There is no magic wand.

    What do YOU want to do?

    If you are pregnant and feel drawn to work with me, head over here. If you are a birthworker and this resonates with you- look here.

  • Why I do what I do.

    Why I do what I do.

    why-drop-shadow

    The other day someone asked me why I do what I do.

    I think we don’t ask ourselves that question often enough.

    Well I delved into the answer I realised that, at the heart of what I do, is something a lot deeper than just supporting women through birth.

    I want to change the world

    There, I said it.

    I want to be part of a revolutionary movement that help women reclaim their strength and power.

    I want my kids to grow up in a world where there is more connection and more kindness.

    I believe our culture has got it all terribly wrong.

    The western culture is all about possessions and individualism, but this isn’t what makes people feel happy.

    Connection is what makes people feel happy.

    Connection to others, feeling part of a tribe, part of a village. Connection to spirituality, whatever your conception of it might be. Understanding that we are all part of a whole and that there is something bigger than us.

    The Western culture is a fear based culture.

    I want our world to have more love.

    Yes I know it sounds corny but I use the word in the biggest sense of the term.

    To quote Australian poetĀ  and writer Michael Leunig

    ” There are only two feelings.

    Love and fear.

    There are only two languages.

    Love and fear.

    There are only two activities.

    Love and fear.

    There are only two motives,

    two procedures, two frameworks,

    two results.

    Love and fear.

    Love and fear.”

     

    So what has that got to do with supporting women through birth?

    I believe that birth is one, if not the most, significant event of our life. The way we are born constitute the framework for who we are for the rest of our life. Science, both physiological and psychological, shows us that this is the case.

    Similarly, the way we give birth is one of the most significant rites of passage, and transition for a woman.

    What if I told you that giving birth can be the most life affirming, exhilarating, and empowering of a woman’s life? Hard to believe isn’t it, in a culture that portrays birth as a horrible, painful event, one to be endured?

    Giving birth can leave you with a the most amazing sense of your own power, and feeling of being invincible “I’ve done this, I can do anything!”

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    The amazing cocktail of hormones that courses through your brain during birth is meant to facilitate that. It is meant to bathe you in love and feel good hormones Ā and to rewire your brain in preparation for motherhood. The same cocktail of hormones are also meant to bathe your baby is preparation for adaptation to the world.

    After a birth like that, becoming a mother often comes more easily, and more instinctively.

    The cocktail of hormones primes you and your baby for love and for kindness. And for tremendous personal growth. Dr Sarah Buckley has written very eloquently about how healing birth can heal the earth here.

    Only the fear based way in which modern obstetrics approach birth (which is an entirely fear based model-like something terrible is going to happen) deprives far too many women (and their babies) of this positive, life affirming experience.

    In over 5 years of supporting expectant couples, and reading the literature and stats around the topic, I am sad to say that in my local hospital (and this is pretty much reflective of the whole of the UK), first time mothers who give birth without any kind of intervention only represent 30 to 40% of the population. With a 25% induction rate (closer to 35% of all first time mothers are being induced for “being overdue”-read my blog about that here, of which nearly half end up with a caesarean, a 28% caesarean and 12% instrumental birth rate, it perhaps isn’t very surprising.

    I see too many mothers who have been traumatised by their birth experiences, because they were steamrolled through interventions they didn’t need or want, by a complex machine/system that they didn’t know how to navigate.

    So what can you do about this?

    • Educate yourself! Read books, article, join online support groups, go to face to face drop in support groups like those run by the positive birth movement, go to private antenatal classes. Don’t turn up at your birth unprepared, expecting the “experts” to tell you what to do. You are the expert when it comes to birthing your baby. Find out about the options so you can make truly informed decisions, both in advance of the birth and on the day. Don’t take no for an answer! Educate yourself about your rights (a great place to start is the Birthrights website).
    • Hire a doula! A doula is your ultimate pregnancy and birth support companion, who will support you unconditionally through the journey. The Cochrane database on continuous non medical support during labour showed that “women who received continuous support were more likely to have spontaneous vaginal births and less likely to have any pain medication, epidurals, negative feelings about childbirth, vacuum or forceps-assisted births, and C-sections. In addition, their labours were shorter by about 40 minutes and their babies were less likely to have low Apgar scores at birth”. Read this great review blog from Evidence Based birth about it here.

     

    If you are a birthworker -please become part of the revolution! (I am hoping that if you are reading this you already are!). Connect and network with others professionals, reclaim knowledge and support, become part of a tribe of passionate, like minded professionals, so you have access to more collective knowledge and confidence to support your clients. Come and experience the power of circles of women, both around yourself and your clients, creating a patchwork quilt of multidisciplinary support.

    If you are pregnant and feel drawn to work with me, head over here. If you are a birthworker and this resonates with you- look here.

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