Tag: pregnancy

  • Why a rebozo, shawl or scarf might be the most powerful tool in your toolbox

    Why a rebozo, shawl or scarf might be the most powerful tool in your toolbox

    Why a shawl or scarf might be the most powerful tool in your tool box

    Over the last 8 years, since I started my reconversion in the world of science to that of a birthworker, the one tool that has amazed me the most is the humble shawl or scarf.

    You might know it foremost as a rebozo, which is a Mexican shawl, traditionally used by Mexican midwives to provide comfort and support to pregnant and birthing mothers.

    But to me, it’s much more universal than that.

    All through history, women have traditionally used shawls and scarves for all sort of purposes, from clothing to carrying and indeed providing comfort, but not just for the childbearing year.

    Lately I have felt a drive, actually a real sense of duty, to pass on this skill.

    This is because I have been having one amazing experience after the other using shawls of scarves.

    “Recently, I supported an amazing woman through a very long birth at home, which also happened to be a VBAC. She laboured for 4 whole days. Through the early parts of her labour, I used my trusted rebozo scarf to relax her belly and help engage her baby. On the last day, when she got the dreaded “stuck at 6cm” situation (her cervix seemed to remain dilated at 6cm for several hours, with no further progress), a simple inversion with sifting on the buttocks through a few contractions, completely changed the pattern of her contractions for the better. In fact, when she got back her from her inversion, she said “My back doesn’t hurt anymore”, the midwife confirmed shortly afterwards that her baby had turned in a more optimal position, and she roared her baby out in the pool a few hours later. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when that baby was born. I have no doubt that the rebozo technique made a big difference to her labour progress.”

    I had heard of amazing stories like this one at the various rebozo and Spinning Babies trainings I had attended, but this was the first time  I had my own experience of a miraculous difference like this, and it really drove the message home.

    Since I starting showing families how to use a shawl or scarf for their own comfort, I have received many more testimonials of the same nature.

    Jess used a shawl to great use to comfort herself during labour

    ” I was in labour recently, homebirth, my husband squeezing my hips was helping so much to keep me grounded. At one point our younger son woke up, this was late at night, and my husband had to go to him to settle him. Right at the same time I had a massive contraction while I was bouncing away on the ball and desperately thought, “OMG, I need pressure on my hips now!” I also happened to be sitting next to a box of wraps, so I grabbed one out and did the hip squeeze on myself. It was super helpful and really empowering at that point to remember I had so many tools in my tool kit to draw on and I totally could rock this birth”

    Recently, after sending a rebozo to a mum who suffered from PGP, I got the following message the next day ” It’s the second time I’ve had pgp. I was induced early because it was so bad and this time is even worse! Your videos were the first time I had ever heard of rebozo or using the shawls to wrap your hips and thought that anything was worth a try as I am in such horrendous pain. Since using the wrap I have been able to do shopping and walk around without crying in pain, it makes a huge difference, so easy to use, looks pretty and I love that I can use it during labour and after the birth as a sling!” Hannah

    I also offer and teach a postnatal ritual called closing the bones, which involves some hip rocking with a rebozo shawl (or a manta as it is called in Ecuador, which is where this particular massage comes from) a massage of the abdomen and wrapping.  The experiences women have with this ritual can be life changing.

     

     

    Here are some examples of what women have said after receiving it:

    “The massage felt incredibly calming and nurturing and I felt very relaxed (almost went to sleep!) I felt a lot of tension which I was holding from the birth just disappear. “

    “Amazing, emotional and cleansing. I feel very supported as a new mum and feel hugged by the love this ceremony brings.”

     The massage and rebozo wraps not only felt absolutely amazing, they also helped remind me of the importance of caring for myself. During the ceremony, I felt so safe and comfortable and at peace, and I was aware of how strong, resilient and loved I am. “

    You can read more here 

    In terms of using it to carry and calm babies, I have also lost count of how many times I’ve seen parents with this wonderful look on their face when they realise they can meet their baby’s needs for closeness AND get their hands back. And, as a doula myself, I recently supported a mum of twins,and I found it pretty elating to be able to carry both twins together in a stretchy wrap!

    So you see I have accumulated many more stories like these, more than I can share here.

    I have a innate desire to share knowledge (funnily, it’s even in my name, Messager means Messenger in French) so others can benefits from it too.

    I started teaching live rebozo workshops a couple of years ago but there is only one of me and whilst I travel up and down the UK to offer it, I wanted it to be available to a wider audience.

    Today I am proud to announce that my rebozo, shawls and scarves course is now available as an online course-which you can find here.

    This means that I am now offering 3 different levels of training, an ebook,  the online course, and a live course (link coming up at 9pm tonight!). (and of course, I also have a my online rebozo shop too)

    If you’d like a short taster of what’s available in my training, just sign up to receive a free guide with 3 different rebozos techniques on my website here

     

  • Rebozos, shawls and scarves-the lost art of supporting women through the childbearing years

    Rebozos, shawls and scarves-the lost art of supporting women through the childbearing years

     

    I was introduced to the art of using the traditional Mexican shawl called the rebozo back in 2013 when I attended a workshop by doula Stacia Smales Hill on rebozo use for labour and birth. During the same year I also attended a workshop by Dr Rocio Alarcon, who taught us a postnatal massage technique called closing the bones, some elements of which included rocking and binding with a rebozo.

    Over the course of the following years I pursued my knowledge further by doing several more workshops with Rocio, and several other rebozo workshops with different focuses, such as the rebozo for labour progress and malposition with Selina Wallis, micromovements with Francoise Freedman, and 2 iterations of spinning babies with Jennifer Walker and Gail Tully, and a workshop on healing diastasis recti  with Birthlight which included many rebozo techniques, and training with Mexican midwife Naoli Vinaver.

    I am also a babywwearing instructor and tutor, and as such use rebozos and wraps to carry babies too.

    When I started teaching workshops around closing the bones and rebozo work as well as babywearing, the incredible versatility of the cloth really blew my mind.

    As I met people through teaching, I constantly ask questions to people I met about their culture’s practises, I started to build a picture in my mind of something much more universal than the rebozo.

    It seems that every culture had a piece of cloth of some kind, call it a shawl, a sarong, a scarf, or a wrap.

    Cold countries have thick, woollen fabrics (think Welsh Shawl or Scottish plaid), and warmer countries, cooler, thin, cotton fabric (think African Kanga or Indonesian Sarong).

    There are almost too many fabrics to count, but one thing is for sure, women have used all sorts of cloths in incredibly versatile ways, and what I’m going to say below about the rebozo is true for many other cultures too. It’s a truly universal practise.

    I spent a few years believing that the rebozo use for labour was uniquely South American but I have met a Somalian midwife who told me how they use their traditional shawl, called a garbasar, in a similar way during labour. I also had a birth client from Somalia who confirmed this, and her mother showed me how to wrap her belly with the garbasar after birth.

    I trained a Moroccan birth worker in doing closing the bones, and when she started offering the massage, women came forward and told her they’d had a similar treatment in the local hammam  (using a Moroccan cloth called a mendil).  Tunisia offers a similar practise called a fouta massage (the fouta is a hammam towel, which is very similar in nature to the Turkish towel).

    I am lucky to be part of a multicultural family, being French and married to a man from Hong Kong. In Hong Kong, they use a long piece of muslin cloth to bind the woman’s hips and abdomen after birth, and my mother in law also showed me how to do it with a towel.

    It’s also quite fascinating to see how contact with foreign cultures can influence each other. For example I acquired a Dutch postpartum girdle called a sluitlaken. I couldn’t help but notice how similar to Indonesian postpartum binding it looks, then a friend pointed out than Holland used to have Indonesian colonies.

    Hip carry with a rebozo

    What can you do with a rebozo (or a scarf of shawl)?

    Pretty much all cultures on the planet, some kind of cloth is used to cradle and carry a baby. In some cultures is used to rock and soothe the baby too. Rocking is such a primal rhythm we all experienced it in our mother’s womb, that we find it soothing all through our lives.  Even in Europe there are pictures of women wearing their babies in Welsh shawls which date from the 1940s.

    Later, when the baby grew into a toddler and child, she would use the cloth to dress up, pretend play (including carrying toys and/or animals, pretending to carry a baby), make a den etc.

    As the child grew into a young woman she would use the cloth as a shawl to keep warm, as a clothing accessory, a blanket, to carry siblings ( in traditional cultures women learn baby care from a very young age as they tend to live with extended families), and to carry loads on her back or head.

    Later still when she became a woman, she might have been given her own shawl as part of a menarche ceremony. She might have worn a special cloth on her wedding day.

    When she became pregnant, she would have used the shawl to support her belly, and her midwives would have used it to alleviate the aches and pains of pregnancy, and maybe to help the baby move into the best position for birth.

    During labour she would have used the shawl to hang from, to pull on, and her birth attendants would have used it to provide comfort measures, such as sifting, rocking, shaking, and wrapping.

    After the birth she would have had a “baby moon”. Again this is something pretty much universal in the world-women the world around have been alleviated from household tasks and cared for by family members for the first 30 to 40 days postpartum. During this time they would rest so they could recover from growing and birthing their baby and get to know their baby and learn to care for them. Her birth attendants and the community of women would have come to feed her nourishing food, and close her bones and help her body heal from the pregnancy and birth by using  a combination of their hands, massage techniques and using the cloth to help move and bind her hips and abdomen to help them back into place. In the West we used to have this practise called “churching” you can read about it here.

    She then would have start to use the cloth to carry her baby and start the cycle all over again.

    Later as she grew old, her family members would have used the cloth to rock and soothe aches and pain.

    Women would have been buried with their shawl using it as a shroud.

    So you see, a traditional cloth, rebozo, shawl or cloth can be used to support a woman throughout her whole life. It is a universal phenomenon on our planet.

     As the shawl came out of fashion and modern practises like using pushchairs became seen as more fashionable and desirable, this skill was soon lost, and because like most traditional women-only practises, it was just passed on orally rather than written about, the knowledge was lost very quickly, in one or two generations. We also tend to embrace “modern” practises mindlessly, seeing traditional ones as backwards and old fashioned.

    Mexican and Chinese friends tell me that nobody wants to use the traditional shawl or carrier these days as only remote farmers or beggars still use them.

    This is  something that we need to reclaim and teach all women, as it is part of the essence of women circles and supporting women through life transitions.

    This is why I am so passionate about passing this skills to both expectant and new mothers, and to anybody who works with expectant and new mothers. It is our birthright!

    You can learn more about Rebozo and its many wonderful uses in my online courses: Rebozo for an Easier Birth and Postnatal Rebozo Massage and Closing Ritual.

     

  • The mother blessing -a mother centered alternative to the baby shower

    The mother blessing -a mother centered alternative to the baby shower

     

    Recently I had the privilege to organise a mother blessings for one of our local doulas who was pregnant.

    A mother blessing is an alternative to the “baby shower” were friends of the pregnant mother gather to give her presents.

    The big difference is that in the baby shower, all the presents are for the baby.

    In the mother blessing, it is the mother who is the center of attention, and the gifts are for her, not for her baby.

    It feels very important to me to facilitate such gatherings, because our culture focuses on the mother only has a vessel for the baby, and usually once the baby has been born, nobody focuses on the mother anymore.

    Therefore with the mother blessing we can help start a cultural shift towards a more mother centered culture.

     

    I have written before about what new mothers really need, and how much of a raw deal we get, once our baby has been born, our partner has returned to work, and we’re alone at home all day, trying to make sense of this new experience, whilst trying to understand the needs of this new life helpless being we have given birth to, whose needs come before ours, always. We’re not meant to be doing this without a support network.

    Organising a mother blessing does not have to be complicated. It can be simple yet beautiful and powerful.

    This is what we did for our doula sister:

    We sat in a circle with her.

    We sang to her

    We gave her a bead each to have during her birth and the postnatal period, and we said good wishes as we gave her our bead.

    We threaded the beads into a necklace, to remind her of her circle of sisters being there with her in spirit, holding her, through the birth of her baby and the early postpartum weeks.

     

     

    We bound our wrists, in a circle, with some wool, then cut the thread, tied the individual bits around our wrists, and all agreed to keep our little wool bracelet until her baby was born.

     

    We read poems about motherhood.

     

     

     

     

    We massaged her hands and feet with gorgeous scented oils.

    We gave her a candle and all took away little tealights to light when we would hear the news that her baby was soon to be born.

    We gave her a goody bag of nurturing gifts.

    And of course we shared some yummy food.

     

     

    It was simple, yet magical and powerful. It was, like birth, an everyday extraordinary event.

    She knew this was meaningful, and it was touching and special for her and all those involved.

    We reminded her she could call upon us after the birth of her baby for support and companionship, and we also offered to gather around her to give her a closing the bones ceremony after the birth of her baby.

    This is what Ceci wrote about her mother blessing

     

    Today my doula friends gave me a “mother blessing”, which is a day to share before the baby is born, like a baby shower but more focused on  mum, with food to share, poems, songs, made me a necklace with beads and a wish of each one.  They gave me a candle and they also got one each also for when I start labour. We also sat in cicrle, each one told me a few words and we were passing a thread that we all tied up on the wrist and that we will have until my daughter is born. They gave me massages and we laughed a lot! I am super grateful to have them and to have had this day for me”

     

     

    I would like to see the tradition of mother blessings to replace that of baby showers, I sincerely hope that it will help place mothers back were they should never have left, at the centre of the circle of support, with the reverence they deserve for bringing new life into the world.

     

     

  • Reflections on what I did in 2017

    Reflections on what I did in 2017

    In my last blog, I suggested you spent some time reflecting on what you achieved in 2017.

    Inspired by my favourite doula, Maddie Mc Mahon, review of the year (you can read hers here), I decided to blog about reviewing my year too.

    As you will see, one should really do what they preach because I had a very interesting experience doing this.

    I have many hats so I’ll break it down in sections: my doula year, my teacher/facilitator year, my personal development and self care.

    My doula year.

    This year I supported 8 families through birth and 4 through the postnatal period.

    As usual in the doula world, it was a rollercoaster of variations and unexpected twist and turns. There was a woman who had had a very traumatic first birth, and who ended up with such a speedy birth this time that I only made it 30 min after the birth. The birth was a beautiful healing experience for her.

    Then another woman went beyond 42 weeks of pregnancy and decided to have an elective caesarean, instead of the homebirth she had planned, because she said that with the lack of support and “risk” pressure from the hospital she didn’t feel she could go into labour naturally. This is one of my pet hates, the arbitrary induction for “postdates” and the pressure women are under when they reach 42 weeks of pregnancy. As a mother who birthed my first baby 16 days past 40 weeks, I feel very strongly about it. I have written about it before here , and in the light of new scientific evidence about the supposed “failing” of the placenta post term, I shall be writing about this topic again in 2018.

    I provided backup support for a doula supporting a refugee mother, who didn’t speak any English. This was a new experience for me, somewhat reminiscing of my visit to a refugee camp in the North of France a few months before. Gone was the softly-softly, gentle approach I normally favour. here is no room for that, when all you’ve got is to communicate is an translating app that mostly spouts gobbledegook, and pictorial birth plans. Yet I know we made a massive difference to this mother, providing her with the information that allowed her to birth her twin babies vaginally with no interventions, and also with much needed donated baby equipment, and contacts with other local mothers who spoke her language. It felt really good to do this.

    I found myself supporting a repeat client through a miscarriage, which whilst different from a full term birth, needed the same kind, and even more gentle and loving support, than for a full time birth. I accompanied her to hospital appointments, and provided much needed emotional support in a system that only went through the motions and never acknowledged her loss. As someone who experienced recurrent miscarriages myself, this is another area that I feel very strongly passionate about supporting. After the miscarriage had happened, I went to close her bones, and it felt really good to be able to offer her something that acknowledged and honoured her loss. I wrote a blog about how closing the bones can help with loss shortly after that.

    I supported a first time mother through a long labour which ended with an instrumental birth in theatre. As in many occasions before, the couple requested my presence in theatre. In this particular case both the midwife and the obstetrician thought this was a good idea, but the anaesthetist said no. This had happened to me before, and had always felt so wrong, because when a couple ends up with a theatre birth and it wasn’t what they wished for, they are often very distraught, and for their doula to not be allowed to carry on supporting them through this difficult moment is very upsetting for them (and for the doula). I had tried to raise this with our local head of midwifery in the past, without success. This particular birth spurred me to finally try to do something about it again. A few months later I met with the head of my local delivery unit to discuss it. The meeting was very positive, and he promised to discuss it with the consultant anaesthetist. I was hopeful. Sadly, the consultant anaesthetist said no. I have been present in theatre in this very hospital with a couple myself in the past, and I know other doulas who have, so I know it can be done. I wrote to the consultant anaesthetist asking for a meeting, but didn’t get a reply. In, 2018, along with Doula UK, I will take part in a campaign to try and make this change happen.

    Doulas often say that births come like buses, and this year I had my most unexpected experience yet, as I attended 2 births within 12h of each other. The odds of this happened were very small indeed. I am grateful to my doula buddies Ceci and Maddie, with whom we provided an awesome shared care doula team for the second birth, and I was safe in the knowledge that this client would be in good hands should I not be able to attend. As it turned out, both births were swift and straightforward, so I was able to attend both. It left me so high on oxytocin, that I only managed 4h sleep the following night before waking up for the day, and had the most amazing glow going for a few days. There is never a dull moment in doula life.

    This was a year of firsts for me, as I also started supporting a repeat client through a twin pregnancy (she hasn’t had her babies yet), this is a foray in a new territory for me, with a lot of heavy handed medical approach and many appointments. There have been quite a few scares during this pregnancy, and I am grateful for the fact that I am supporting this client together with my doula colleague Ellie. Having another doula to share support, especially when faced with a complex situation makes the work lighter and easier, and means that there is always someone at the end of the phone who “gets” it, someone to share ideas and concerns with. I’ve also been able to reach out to the wider doula community to access knowledge. It makes a world of difference. Doulas need the support of other doulas too.

    The last “first” of the year was supporting my first home VBAC. The birth itself was straightforward and the mother coped beautifully and got the birth she wanted.I hadn’t anticipated how anxious the midwifes attending her birth would be, and how keen they would be to try and transfer her to the hospital. Reflection is a very important skill for a birthworker, and it took me a few hours after the birth to understand what had felt so odd and uneasy about the atmosphere during the birth: the midwives were outside of their comfort zone, and it is amazing that the mother managed to labour so well within such a distrusting atmosphere. I feel that I was the only one there (apart from the mother and her partner) who trusted the process. Never in my 5 years as a doula have had ever had to do so much space holding and protecting, and been so utterly convinced that if I hadn’t been there, the outcome would have been completely different. Whilst on paper, the birth was straightforward, the protecting and managing the space left me completely wrung out, so much self care was needed afterwards.

    Early in the year, I became a doula UK mentor. I loved every minute of my own mentored doula journey and wanted to be able to give this back to the doula community. This year I had the honour to support 7 mentored doulas. I had expected to enjoy supporting them, but not how much more depth of knowledge of my own doulaing it would give me, and how much I would learn from my mentees. It has brought me much joy, and I have loved this new experience of reflection and self-development.

    I wrote 24 blog posts on topics ranging from birth to motherhood and I hope what I wrote helped women and birthworkers feeling empowered in making informed decisions. I also wrote blogs for other people and 2 articles for The Doula magazine.

    My teaching/workshop facilitator year.

    In 2017 I got to do a lot of something I love, facilitating workshops for birthworkers. I facilitated 34 workshops in total (Closing the bones, rebozo, babywearing peer supporter (one was with the local hospital NICU staff and one with my local nursery), and reiki workshops). I trained around 230 people. I travelled up and down the country (from Cambridge, to Peterborough, Bristol, Manchester , Sheffield, Liverpool, Brighton, Canterbury, and London (several times)). I meet some awesome people, and shared some incredible moments of connection. I also braved my ultimate nemesis which was driving through central London. I feel blessed to be able to do this.

    I also delivered a couple of conference presentations about using rebozos at a babywearing conference.

    I did several one to one babywearing consultations through the year, either as part of my doulaing or for a single one to one consult. It’s always a joy to witness the expression of joy on a new mother’s face when she realises she can meet her baby’s need for closeness effortlessly and get her hands back. I was particularly touched by a mother whose baby had a flat head, I suggested she visits my osteopath and I got a delighted thank you email later when the baby’s skull roundness had been fully restored.

    2017 also saw me develop the beta version of my online rebozo course to a group of early adopters. I thought I’d get about 10/15 people but 115 signed up, and I was totally blown away by the response I got (and to be honest, a little overwhelmed!). I will launch the live version of the course in the first quarter of 2018.

    I celebrated having trained 300 people in offering the closing the bones massage, and also launched a website dedicated to closing the bones, to spread the word further and help people find practitioners. https://www.closingthebonesmassage.com/. I hope this will help play a role in changing our culture’s attitude towards supporting women during the postpartum.

    I developed and launched the second level of the closing the bones workshop, called Deeper into closing the bones. I also started developing the massage table version of the technique, which I will launch sometimes in 2018.

    I also started an online rebozo shop at the end of 2017, something I’d sworn I would never do, as I’m more about services than products, but I had reached the stage where, having started selling rebozos at my live workshops only, there were enough people who knew I had them, and therefore I receive requests for them on a weekly basis, which was a time consuming process. My shop is a work of love, as I went to great length talking to suppliers to make sure the process is ethical. Have a look, there are some lovely stories (including videos) about the suppliers in there.

    My healer year

    Healing, with Closing the bones and/or Reiki is something I love to do, and this year there was plenty of this in my life too. I heard many harrowing stories and it felt good to be able to listen deeply and offer this powerful ritual to honour them. I got to treat a range of people, closing the bones in particular to women having experienced trauma or loss. I loved doing the massage 4 times on a new postpartum mum within 2 weeks of the birth. I taught closing the bones to a male doula (who had a fantastic healing experience from it). I usually incorporate Reiki into my closing the bones treatments, and I treated several people with alone Reiki too, and got to experiment with my new skills using the drum to channel Reiki.

    My personal development year

    Earlier in the year I set out that I’d like to attend a minimum of one day of personal self development/learning new skills per month. It’s interesting because until I wrote this post I didn’t think I had quite achieved that, but in reality I attended well over 15 days of training in 2017, which means that I beat my goal (I had no idea I had until I started writing this post!)

    I attended Sara Wickham’s post term pregnancy course, Gena Kirby’s cultured doula programme, an advanced spinning babies workshop with Gail Tully, Diane Garland’s waterbirth workshop, a Birthlight course on healing Diastasis Recti (which to my delight, included a lot of work using a rebozo), and a 2 day workshop on Closing the Bones with Rocio Alarcon. I also went to the doula UK conference, to a babywearing CPD on inclusivity, and to the annual doula retreat, were I made the most powerful and magical drum. I have using this drum for healing since, and even more so after training in the Reiki drum technique in September.

    My self care year

    I kept to my promise to myself of having a body work treatment after every birth, often within days of the birth, mostly with my osteopath and friend Teddy Brookes. I tried something new too: I had two floatation tank sessions, which I loved. I did several healing/massage skill swaps with my brilliant massage therapist friend Emma Kenny, who gave me some of the best aromatherapy massages I have ever had. I did some kind of meditation/Reiki self treatment most days too. I was lucky to be invited to a one day mini retreat called “nurturing the mama” run by two wonderful women, Jo Gray and Suzanne Morgan, who are both Reiki masters, therapists, healers and general awesome women. I had met them when they attended a closing the bones workshop. I feel very grateful for the people that my work puts on my path. And of course the 4 days doula retreat in North Wales in May, away from the hustle and bustle of the “normal” world, was the highlight of my self care year. Huge thanks to doula Selina Wallis for organising it!

    Another very important part of my looking after my soul, is that in 2017 I re-joined a community choir. I had spent 10 years in a Cambridge community choir before, but I hadn’t taken part regularly since my daughter had been born in 2009, so this was a big deal. Coming back to singing made me take stock and measure how much I’ve changed since my scientific career days, how much more in tune with my body am I. I also found the singing is such an important medicine for the soul, in a job as emotionally and spiritually demanding as doulaing.

    Sports wise, I kept to my normal regime of 3 swims a week. In April I joined an online fitness club called Rebelfit and started learning lots of new fitness techniques I had never done before, including playing around with kettlebells. I can now squat and do proper situps and press-ups, something I couldn’t do before. I also started experimenting with eating a paleo type of diet and mostly eliminated grains and dairy. I’m make exceptions to this regularly, but I notice I have much more energy when avoiding these foods.

     

    Writing all this, which I would probably not have done in so many details for myself if I hadn’t been writing this blog post, I’m oscillating between feeling very proud and feeling a little worried it comes up as boasty. I’m quite surprised that I have done so much because it really didn’t feel like it until I looked back. I’m getting a taste of my own medicine when I tell people to focus on their achievements. I’m quick to dismiss my own because I mostly focus on what I’m not yet doing, not yet achieving, against my own impossible standards. And yet, looking at it all written like this, this is rather a lot.

    Because I wrote this blog, I spent a lot more time than I normally do reflecting on how I work. It has allowed me to see pattern and things I want to do differently, and plan differently. It’s been a real eye opener. Who knew?

    I just took part in a live seminar on goal setting with my friend Charlie Ashley Roberts, from “your time to grow”. During the seminar, Charlie explained that only 3% of people write goals, 13% think about goals but don’t write them, and 84% of people don’t do any goals at all, yet research shows that people who set goals are much more likely to achieve them than people who don’t. I oscillate between the 13 and the 3%. My struggle is to find a good balance as I have such high standards, that I often use the goal tool to berate myself, to feel that I’m not  good enough.

    I just received an email newsletter from Lissa Rankin, a brilliant American doctor/healer, and her it said this:

    Studies show that approximately 40% of people make New Years Resolutions, but only between 8–19% of people actually follow through on fulfilling those promises two years later which means that 81–92% of people who make New Years Resolutions wind up feeling like undisciplined losers…”

    This year I’m planning to work more creatively around the goal setting thing, rather than making it a chore/or a stick to beat myself up with (I’m not finding bullet points type lists very exciting). I’m going to apply the principle that it’s best to do little and often, rather than setting unrealistic goals (for instance, committing to meditating 10 min a day is much easier than 30 min which I know I’m unlikely to do). I’m going to be playing around with a law of attraction diary and also meeting up regularly with a couple of friends to set goals together, starting with making a vision board.

    Mostly, I’m making the promise to myself to spend more time having fun with my work, than trying to stick to a rigid working schedule.

    I’d love to hear how you balance celebrating your achievements and finding the right balance in goal setting and work planning.

     

     

  • How closing the bones can help after baby loss

    How closing the bones can help after baby loss

    When I started writing this post during baby loss awareness week, I thought I was going to write a post specifically about miscarriage. But when I started writing it, I felt that it needed to be about baby loss in general. Because you cannot measure grief by what it looks on paper.

    Your grief can be as real if your baby died when you just found out you were pregnant, or if your baby dies when he was several months old. Grief cannot be defined by numbers, and we cannot measure how sad, how hurt we are, or by comparing ourselves to others. By judging that some losses are more “worthy” of grief than others. It doesn’t work like that.

    Yet, god knows I’ve been guilty of doing this myself when it comes to my own grief. So I want to share my stories, and those of others, and I hope it helps. I have two different histories of baby loss. The first was when I was eight and my little brother, Julien, was stillborn.

    This was in the late 70s, and in those days people thought that brushing things under the carpet was the right thing to do, that to pretend it just hadn’t happened meant that, somehow, it would disappear from your brain. None of us where allowed to grieve or process our feelings properly. There was no funeral, and my brother’s little body was disposed of in clinical waste. There was no memory box, no pictures, no footprints. I never got to see my brother (neither did my mum). My mum hid in the toilets to cry. We didn’t share our sadness. I was left with all those unprocessed feelings, so unprocessed in fact that my mind’s choose to forget them to protect me. I have this big blank in my memory which I cannot retrieve. I can’t remember my mum being pregnant, or anything after the birth. Which is odd because, of course, I have plenty of memories of times before that. There is a part of my childhood I simply cannot reclaim because we weren’t allowed to grieve at the time.

    When I studied how children grieve as part of my antenatal education diploma, this led me to revisiting this in depth and I had some lovely healing conversations with my mother about it. In fact in 2017 I closed the circle by giving my mum a closing the bones session-she was very scared about what it would bring, in case it brought all the bad feelings flooding back I think, but it was gentle and beautiful and, honouring, nurturing and healing for both of us. A couple of years later, I would give her the massage again to help with back pain, only for my mother to tell me the day was the anniversary of the birth of my baby brother,

    My second loss, was when I miscarried my own baby (I went on to have 3 further miscarriages and 2 live children but I am only relating the story of my first loss in this blog).

     I started to try and conceive when I was about 33. After over a year of trying and no pregnancy, we were fast tracked for fertility tests, due to my age and irregular cycles. Everything was normal but my cycles were very long and they wanted to give me drugs to induce ovulation. I wasn’t keen, so I investigated other options instead, and after 3 months of acupuncture, I fell pregnant for the first time. I can still feel the raw, amazing joy I felt when the test turned pregnant. I can still picture myself, alone in the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I burst into tears of joy. I kept my little secret all day and then surprised my husband with the wrapped positive test in the evening. For 3 months I walked around in a constant state of bliss. Yes I was tired and nauseous at times, but mostly, I was so high on pregnancy hormones, and I felt that nothing could touch me.

    At 12 weeks we went for our first scan. We were very excited. Then the sonographer told us there was no heartbeat. She tried scanning me again. I was in denial, still hopeful that somehow, there had been a mistake, and that my baby would still be alive. But my baby had died. What ensued was disbelief, numbness and shock, followed by the deepest grief I had ever experienced. I cried like I had never cried before in my life. Big heavy howling sobs. My arms literally ached for my baby.

    It wasn’t helped by the lack of understanding of my own feelings, by the lack of acknowledgement our culture provides to women who miscarry, by the lack of support, or by the inappropriate, well meaning comments given by friends and relatives who didn’t know how to support a mother’s grief.

    • “It wasn’t a real baby” (to me it was)
    • “There was probably something wrong with it” (maybe, but this was implying I was wrong to grieve)
    • “You can have another one” (I wanted this one)
    • “At least you can get pregnant” (more grief dismissal)

    All these comments contributed to feeling that my grief wasn’t valid.

    Thankfully someone put me in touch with the miscarriage association. I rang lovely local volunteer lady Janet Sackman. She was the first person to put soothing, acknowledging words on my grief. I ended up attending miscarriage association meetings for a while. I helped me a lot with processing my feelings. But nothing was done to help heal my body, my spirit, my soul, in a holistic way.

    I carried this grief and this fear with me-nobody helped me with that. I never experienced that feeling of bliss in any of my subsequent pregnancies, because I was so scared that I was going to lose my baby again, that I didn’t dare let myself be happy again.

    In 2013 I was trained into doing a postnatal massage called Closing the bones.  I have been offering and teaching it since 2014 (read about that here). Having offered the massage to hundred of women, we started noticing some common threads in what this ritual does, and one of these thread is how helpful it is for loss. Amongst the women who received this massage, many, including the ones who had live births as well as loss, told me that the ritual felt especially significant for loss. To this day, women keep telling me this.

    This is what some of those women said:

    I came along to the Closing the Bones Training about a year after my baby had died. Towards the end of the ceremony, as I was being rocked deep shudders started going through my body and as the rebozo was pulled tight around my pelvis I felt a huge emotion that even now I am not sure what to call it. It felt as though the protective bubble I had formed around myself moved away and with that my baby – as if I was releasing him. Sobs racked my body all the grief, the anger, the exhaustion  all the disbelief of what had happened came pouring out. I hadn’t realised how much I was holding on to. I felt the women form a circle around me and felt what it was like to have a safe space held for me, allowing me to just be there in my wild tumult of emotion. I heard someone singing the most beautiful song and someone stroking my hair, hands touching me sending love and support“. Rosie (you can read more about Rosie story and the beautiful poem she wrote here ).

    I have had 3 different losses.  All the years up to having children when I felt sad I realised I had empty arm syndrome. It was a deep sadness that as I was so young was not felt I had the luxury of acknowledging. (Wwhen I felt pregnant) I never fully bonded – just in case. I always felt doomed. After two more children in quick succession I learnt closing the bones and was lucky enough to be the subject for the full closing ceremony at the end. I could see golden light all around and I felt deeply relaxed and to have so many women touch me was a unique honour.  When I got home I felt a far deeper connection to my children than I had before.  A lingering barrier I was unaware of had been lifted.  Since then I have felt a far deeper acknowledgement of my loss. And far less pretending all was ok. It feels far more authentic. ” Allison

    “Having the closing the bones massage helped me to accept my babies loss and start to move forward and also forgive my body and let go of all the negative feelings.” Claire

    This is also what some of the women who had losses, have either experienced or heard about closing the bones, but didn’t experience closing the bones at the time/or since their loss told us:

    “I think it could have helped me as it took a long time to fall pregnant again and I felt like I had to be pregnant again in order to process losing our second daughter. Maybe a closing the bones ceremony would have helped with saying goodbye to that pregnancy and feeling less stressed falling pregnant again. If that makes sense?”  Hannah

    “Instinctively I feel this is a worthwhile ritual/ ceremony to honour the mother and acknowledge her pregnancy and loss”. Molly

    “I had a miscarriage at 9 weeks. I think closing the bones would have helped me in so many ways, but mostly emotionally, being able to share it with another woman who understands or at least who can empathise and perhaps sympathise. Who could normalise it (I knew it was common, but it would still have been nice to be told again, several times!). A healing time with another woman. That’s what I would have liked”. Saveria

    ” I didn’t know about closing the bones until recently and had not really considered it with regards to my loss, but your post made me reflect and actually had (has!) me in tears thinking about how, at the time, a “ceremony” would have helped me so very much. I would have found a closing the bones ceremony beautiful in that situation, a celebration of my child, me as her mother, and a way of celebrating her life, however short it was.  I would have found it healing and it would have allowed me the focus I so desperately needed to just be alone with her, and my thoughts, and my pain! ” Jo

    “I think it would have helped me after numerous miscarriages as a way of creating ‘closure’ but still keeping that love within me, honoured as a part of my body. I think of it whenever I wrap someone else, and today when I wrapped myself…” Katrina

    If I could go back in time and have women close my bones after my miscarriages, I know what it would mean to me. It would mean that I would be held by a group of loving, supportive women, and that they would witness and acknowledge my grief as valid, without judgment. THat I could let all my emotions out, within a safe space, whilst being held. This would have felt very significant for me at the time, the physical aspect of it, and I expect would have helped me heal faster, and better, than I did at the time. It would have been complimentary to the more “mental” side of the miscarriage association meetings. This is also why I feel so strongly passionate about supporting women through loss.

    In her recent book, Braving the Wilderness, Brene Brown states :

    ” The collective pain (and sometimes joy) we experience when gathering in any way to celebrate the end of a life is perhaps one of the most powerful experiences of inextricable connection. Death, loss, and grief are the great equalizers.”

    This feels like what this ritual is all about when honouring the loss of a baby.

  • Rebozo video class-how to use a rebozo for pregnancy, birth and beyond

    Rebozo video class-how to use a rebozo for pregnancy, birth and beyond

    I did a live video class this week on how to use a rebozo shawl to support yourself and your clients through pregnancy, labour and birth, the postnatal period and beyond. Here is it 🙂

    Play

  • How do we make decisions (especially difficult ones during pregnancy and birth)?

    How do we make decisions (especially difficult ones during pregnancy and birth)?

    I’ve been reflecting on the complexity of decision making lately.

    How do we make decisions , especially difficult ones, and how does this apply to pregnancy and birth?

    Let’s debunk some myths first.

    I think we naively like to believe that we make decisions in a step by step, rational, logical, maybe even scientific basis.

    You know, gathering all the facts, all the “evidence”, making sure it’s process driven etc.

    Nope.

    Our decisions are first and foremost shaped by our experience and our emotions (fear being a big one and I’ll come back to that in a minute).

    Think about it this way: your decision is like the tip of an iceberg. All you see if the decision. What you don’t see is the iceberg below, which is made of EVERY SINGLE EXPERIENCE you’ve had in your life so far.

    That’s right, everything you have experienced until now plays a role in your decision making.

    People do not make decisions ignoring their experiences, only often this isn’t a conscious process.

    Let’s say for example, something really scary happened to a friend of yours during her birth, or you witnessed a very negative experience (this includes stuff you’ve seen/read in the media).

    This is what you now associate this experience with.

    Being presented with scientific evidence showing that  is not necessarily going to shift this belief.

    It takes a lot more work than this, because exploring your own belief system isn’t a quick and easy job.

    That is why, by the way, so many women are scared about childbirth-because the media only ever portrays birth as a scary, mightily painful, life threatening like emergency.  This message has been passed onto you and built into your subconscious without you even noticing it.

    In an antenatal class I taught, there was  a father who was a medical doctor. He got very heated up when we talked about co-sleeping, stating that it was dangerous.

    The thing is, science tell us that when you remove risks factors such as consuming alcohol, taking alertness altering drugs, smoking (and as long as you make sure that the co-sleeping environment is safe and the baby is exclusively breastfed), then having a baby in your bed carries no more risks of SIDS than having your baby sleep on a separate surface-read more about it here (ISIS).

    I chatted to this dad during the coffee break and asked him what he had witnessed. He said during his training he saw 4 babies who (allegedly) died of SIDS due to co-sleeping.

    So he had integrated this belief through his experience and no amount of evidence was going to change this.

    That’s what I mean when I say experiences shape our decision making.

    What doesn’t help is that we live in a culture that has put science on some kind of impossible pedestal, and create dogmatic beliefs rather than fluid thinking.

    We also completely dismiss emotions, and instinct especially, in favour of “rational” thinking.

    Interestingly, evidence even shows that under pressure of time for example, even experts revert to gut instincts when making decisions.

    And we are more guided by our experience and emotion than by logic.

    I was chatting to male midwife Mark Harris earlier and he reminded me of a favourite topic of his: that everything we see, the world we live in, is an hallucination, because it is the product of the mental construct we have developed as children.

    If decisions about where to give birth were based on facts and logic, the majority of women would be planning to have their babies at home or in a birth centre. Not in a hospital obstetrics led unit. Because, for healthy women with uncomplicated pregnancies, there can be more risks in giving birth in an obstetric unit than in the other two settings. The odds of having a straightforward vaginal birth, for the same low risk population, are roughly 90% at home, 80% in a birth centre, and only 58% in an obstetrics unit (this was demonstrated by the birth place study).

    And yet most women are scared into believing that birth is inherently dangerous and that they must give birth next to doctors, just in case something goes wrong. Not realising that much of the “going wrong” is actually perpetuated by a risk averse, fear based, maternity system.

    Now before you start clamouring that sometimes, thing DO go wrong, let me explain this : my most important value as a doula is to make sure you feel supported in your decisions.

    My work as a doula has completely changed the way I perceive the world and people.

    As a scientist, I mostly interacted with scientists, and although they were all different, they kind of shared a lot of ways of thinking.

    Plus being a doula means I get to discuss people’s emotions and feelings a lot-something you don’t tend to do as much in a day to day science job.

    What doulaing has taught me above all, is how amazingly, fascinatingly and wonderfully different we all are.

    And that every time I think I have “sussed” someone, they throw me a curveball that goes against everything I thought I knew about them.

    Nobody fits nicely in little boxes.

    And we should celebrate out quirks.

    I have supported women who were terrified of hospitals, and for whom being at home felt like the safest option. I have also supported women who were terrified of giving birth vaginally and for whom having an elective cesarean was the safest option.

    See where I’m getting to, here?

    We are all SO DIFFERENT. I’m still learning about this and still being amazed by it every day.

    What worked for your friend might  not (and most likely isn’t) necessarily the best choice for you.

    How does all of this relate to the decision making process?

    It means that each person has their own, individual way of making decisions.

    It means that the process is incredibly complex.

    And it means, when it comes to childbirth, that only YOU know what are the right decisions for you.

    It doesn’t mean that you mustn’t look at facts and debunk myths.

    But it means that supporting you, REALLY supporting you, without an agenda, through making such important, life changing decision such as how to birth your baby, requires an incredibly sensitive, skilled person, who can help you tease out what you really want, rather than what others have led you to believe what is right for you.

    But at the end of the day, because of your personal circumstances, some options are going to feel safer than others, regardless of what the evidence says.

    And I fiercely defend your right to make your own decisions, however odd and quirky they end up being.

     

  • The taboo of the first trimester of pregnancy

    pregnancy test

    We have this weird taboo in our culture about the first trimester of pregnancy. The first rule of the first trimester is you don’t talk about the first trimester. We just don’t tell people we’re pregnant. I don’t know how it started. Before the advent of medicinal chemistry and pregnancy tests were available, I believe we were more in tune with our bodies and had other ways of knowing, so I don’t think it came from “not knowing” with a medical proof that we were pregnant. But these days, it’s like we’re going to jinx it somehow if we tell people. We have to hide it and worry about people guessing because we are no longer drinking alcohol. It’s one hell of a big taboo.

    It doesn’t make any sense to me now and it didn’t make any sense to me when I was first pregnant. I wanted to tell people. Sure I didn’t tell my boss and every acquaintance, but I told my close friends and family pretty much the day I knew.

    I’m really glad did because, when, after trying to get pregnant for 18 months, I found out I was finally pregnant I was overjoyed. But when I was told at the 12 weeks scan that my baby had died, nothing could have prepared me for the raw grief I experienced. I really needed my loved ones’ support. I am so very grateful for the support I received from the Miscarriage Association. When everyone else was feeding me unhelpful platitudes (“You can have another one” “It wasn’t a real baby yet” “It’s for the best, there was probably something wrong with it”), they understood my grief and provided much needed soothing words of support. My first miscarriage was and still is today one of the hardest grieving experiences of my life.

    I discovered a whole new world of grief and silence after my miscarriage- when I burst into tears in a GP surgery after seeing a newborn baby-a kind receptionist accompanied me to another room, and told me she had lost twins herself. As I told my story, more and more women came forward with theirs-I was so shocked to hear how common it was (1 in 4 women people!). Yet until I spoke nobody else did. So we all suffered in silence and lack of sisterhood until we secretly admitted to being part of the club.

    Then I went on to have 3 more miscarriages (with a live baby in the middle and another one at the end), I still needed support. Heck I needed a hell of the lot more support than the first time I was pregnant, when I was so blissfully unaware that my baby could die. I was so scared I would lose this baby again. I never experienced the relaxed bliss I experienced during my first pregnancy again. When I had a big bleed at 11 weeks during my last pregnancy and I was petrified with fear that my baby had died-I was extremely grateful for the support of my doula who accompanied me and my husband to the emergency scan at the hospital. Having her there made me feel safe and loved. It felt validating too.

    Today, I feel very lucky to have 2 healthy children.

    But do I feel that the beginning of pregnancy should be hidden? Hell no!

    Let’s look at several different scenarios:

    If you’re healthy and your pregnancy is progressing well and everything is as it should-you might still feel extremely tired during your first trimester. You might feel nauseous. You might be sick. You might experience dizziness and blood pressure and blood sugar drops, and just generally not feel great. But because at this time you have no visual signs of pregnancy then you get no support. No jumping queues, even if you feel faint, nobody giving you their seats in public transport, no extra rest breaks at work. No extra kindness, no sympathy. That just sucks! I had several experiences like this during my pregnancies- I felt exhausted, had mild to severe nausea at times, felt faint without warning etc. Shouldn’t we have something in place to give women the support they deserve there? Shouldn’t we be treating them like the amazing, special goddess they are? They are growing a new human being!

    When I was only 7 weeks pregnant with my daughter I felt so tired and sick that I had to tell my boss because I had to go and lie down in the sick room at work for a while at lunchtime. I was shit scared to tell her (She was a childless woman and I had only been in the job for 4 months) but luckily she reacted very positively (in fact I recall being so relieved and surprised that I burst into tears!) and I was able to get my breaks without looking suspicious. Funnily enough, once I was told I could have the breaks, suddenly I found I needed them less-because the worry of what people where going to think had been lifted.

    If you’re healthy but there are fears around losing your baby; you have a history of miscarriages, your baby was conceived through fertility treatment, then you need some extra emotional support around this time a lot more than you will once the first trimester has passed and once you can start feeling your baby move. If your loved ones know, then they will be able to support you more readily. Similarly, keeping it secret in a bid to protect yourself (to avoid “jinxing” it), means that you may miss out on expressing those fears and having loving people acknowledge and validate them.

    If you aren’t healthy during your pregnancy-if you have a chronic illness which is exacerbated by pregnancy, or if you have hyperemesis-you are going to need some extra support too as soon as you find out you are pregnant.

    I wish our culture was more supportive of expectant and new mothers in general-and I feel that we need to lift this first trimester taboo-and encourage women to ask for the support they deserve-as soon as they are pregnant.

    If you work with pregnant women-please please please consider offering support during the first trimester. Please tell women that you know why they need it. That you understand. That they deserve it. Please explain to them why they might need it. That is isn’t selfish or indulgent. Please signpost women towards sources of support-from specialist groups to alternative practitioners-and if nothing can help-well just know that having our feelings heard and validated can make a huge different. Please spread the word. I am hoping that if enough of us break the silence around this, and more and more women realise that they need support during this special and vulnerable time, then this will help break the first trimester taboo.

    PS:

    Several women contacted me after reading this blog post, telling me they didn’t want to share their news during their first trimester. I want to say that this is totally fine. It would be just as bad to force women who wish to keep their pregnancy secret to be obliged to do so, as it is to force women who want to share not to. I just wanted to express that I wish that women would choose to keep their pregnancy to themselves do so for the right reasons for them, not because of cultural expectations.

     

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