birth culture

My beautiful friend Natalia gave birth to her daughter, at home, in the water, last September. Natalia recently told me the story of her rich Aboriginal culture and the rituals surrounding her birth and she's given me permission to share it here, with you. 

In her inspiring words:

"...When I went to the Coorong, Murray River, for my first visit I knew I wanted to sit in the dirt with the Aunties and weave. Weaving is a girl's right of passage into womanhood - once you learn to weave you are ready to fall pregnant. I got to weave only a few stitches but within less than a month I was pregnant with Estelle. 

The first time she touched the earth was on this mat. Made by one of the master weavers from our tribe - Ngarrindjeri - down south. Her feet were dusted with earth from where our dream story began. The flower on her back was made by my mother from Pelican feathers. The women originally made them to sell to the "tourists" (treasures made by the exotic other) - it was the only item they had to trade which ensured they could stay "in country" and not be removed in the assimilation policy. 

After making placenta prints (tree of life) my placenta was encapsulated. The umbilical cord we dried in a spiral (the spiral is the symbol for women) and wrapped it in a placenta print with a copy of my story "Returning to Country". I then bound it with paperbark and twine and buried it in country. The women from my culture have buried their babies' placentas and umbilical cords for years.

I felt a strong connection to the land when I visited my ancestral country for the first time. I also felt deeply saddened by the fact that I had grown up detached from my heritage. In a way I felt lost from my soul's song. I wanted Estelle to be born into that connection and know what it is to be connected to her people and the land. I want her to know belonging and not to have to spend a good part of her life, like I did, in search of it. 

I felt privileged that my Aunties and cousins embraced my choice to do this for Estelle. It was a powerful move to realign my life with my culture." - Natalia

Photo by Jane

Q & A - preparing for a VBAC

Last week in my pre-natal classes I discussed two words - determination and doubt. And I posed the question: "do you doubt that you can birth your baby naturally?"

The three students who admitted out loud, without any hesitation, that they were doubtful, are all preparing for a Vaginal Birth After Caesarean (VBAC).

Please note than I always use the term 'caesarean birth' instead of 'caesarean section' or 'c-section'. I think it's really important to acknowledge that it is a birth and not just a medical procedure.

There are two types of women who actively prepare for a VBAC.

1. A woman who had a scheduled caesarean birth and never experienced labour. This may be due to, for example, a breech baby, pre-eclampsia, high-blood pressure, placenta previa or the health of the baby etc
2. A woman who laboured, possibly as far as full dilation, but for a range of possible reasons ( foetal distress, failure to progress, de-flexed head etc) couldn't birth her baby vaginally.

Wrapped up in the doubt of those that had a scheduled caesarean birth is a fear of labour...fear of the unknown, something so common to first-time mums. For those who have laboured and are attempting a VBAC there's a looming hurdle awaiting them. For most women in this situation, that hurdle is daunting. They know, deep within, that in order to achieve a VBAC they need to move past that moment in their first labour where, for one reason or another, it was decided that a caesarean birth was necessary. 

And so, like I say to my students each and every week, it is the mental preparation that is essential. Because the mental challenge of labour is often far greater than the physical challenge.

Here is my advice, in simple dot form:

• remind yourself that this is a new baby and a new birth experience. 
• if you are feeling angry, disappointed or traumatised about your first birth experience you may want to consider seeking help from an ante-natal counsellor. Your GP or midwife will be able to refer you. Ultimately, you can only prepare for a second birth once you have made peace with the first.
• if you feel guilty, forgive yourself. Forgive yourself. Forgive yourself.
• think about who you want at your birth. Choose people who you wholeheartedly trust. Remember, you will be at your most vulnerable and transparent, you want support from those who have the utmost faith in you and your ability to birth
• talk to your support people about your fears. Talk to them about your determination to have a VBAC. Tell them what words you want to hear in labour. (If you are a support person and you notice that doubt is creeping in, quietly tell the labouring woman: "you CAN and you ARE doing it)
• do your research. Find a midwife or obstetrician who wholly supports your journey towards a VBAC. 
• create a sankalpa (positive affirmation). Yogis believe that a sankalpa that is repeated daily and never shared will always be realised. Use simple language and repeat it to yourself in moments of fear or doubt, or when you are feeling most connected with your baby. An example of a sankalpa could be: "I will carry my baby to full term and birth calmly and confidently."
• acknowledge your fears and doubts
• commence a regular yoga practice. The best preparation you can do is regular preparation. I find for those who already have children it's really important to go to a yoga studio for that space - where you can connect and be with your unborn baby without the need to look after your other child(ren). Recognise that it's your time
• why is prenatal yoga so powerful? Well, within weeks of starting a practice you will notice that you understand your body a bit more. When you become more aware of your body you have more faith in its ability to birth.
• remind yourself that your body, your breath and your baby are one. 
• your unborn baby is comforted by your heartbeat, vitalised by your breath
• as you breathe, mentally repeat 'let' as you inhale and 'go' as you exhale
• when you begin to doubt, remind yourself that you are determined
• when you become fearful, remind yourself that you have faith
• remember all those women that have birthed before you. So much wisdom.
• remember that you are nature - and nature never ever adheres to a clock
• labour cannot be controlled, only experienced. You cannot 'do' labour, you just have to 'be' in it
• don't write a birth plan - nothing in life ever goes according to plan. Instead, create a birth intention
• know that the very essence of birth is surrender - surrender to where your body and your baby takes you
• *next week I'll write about sound in birth. Sound, I believe, is the most powerful technique you can use in labour.

If I have learnt one thing after close to five years of teaching prenatal yoga it is this: you just never know where your birth journey will take you. And so, I say to each pregnant woman that crosses my path - surrender and accept. 

So what is it like to experience a VBAC? I'll let Sarah, one of my students, tell you....

Q: Why did you have a caesarean birth with your first child?
A: Finn was posterior facing (spine on spine) with a deflexed presentation (his head was tilted backwards instead of having his chin tucked in). My obstetrician suspected that he would be born via caesarean birth but I was insistent that I go into labour. I was induced (my membranes were ruptured at 41+3 weeks) and I laboured for nine hours with little or no progress. We agreed to go ahead with the caesarean birth.

Q: How did you feel about Finn's birth?
A: I was absolutely devastated. I had put such a lot of effort into preparing for the birth with a Calm Birth course and yoga classes, that when my experience differed so much from my carefully written birthing plan, I was at a complete loss. After the birth I was euphoric, of course. A son! My beautiful baby boy! But later, I found it too hard to even tell people that I hadn't managed the perfect, natural birth that I had wanted. It took me a long time to start appreciating my happy, healthy baby as the end result of my pregnancy, rather that what I saw as a 'failure' to do the one thing that we, as women, are designed to do. 

Q: Did you always want to attempt a VBAC with your second child?
A: Yes! My research started when Finn was only a few weeks old. I spent hours on the internet finding out if such a thing was possible. I had never heard the term VBAC before, but was soon quoting success stories and statistics to anyone who would listen.

Q: What did you do to prepare yourself for a VBAC?
A: My preparation was largely emotional rather than physical. I needed to accept that Finn's birth was just that, a birth, not a disaster. I spent my time thinking in a constructive way about every possible outcome, and decided to face each eventuality with acceptance. I learnt and practiced skills to help cope with the challenges of labour and delivery but I didn't plan. I wrote nothing down. I just decided to let it happen. I thought about what it would mean to me if I needed to have another caesarean birth - I was determined to be happy with my new baby, regardless of how she arrived.

Q: What were your fears and how did you overcome them?
A: My main fear was that my OB would insist I have a caesarean or claim that I wasn't a suitable candidate for VBAC. I spent hours leaning forwards (or on all fours) to avoid a posterior facing bubba! I prepared myself before each meeting with my OB so I could calmly decline his offer to schedule a date for my baby's birth. I booked a course of acupuncture to help labour begin spontaneously and I listen to my friends' VBAC success stories. I was happy for them and hopeful for myself.

Q: How were you feeling when you went into labour?
A: Amazed! I spent a couple of hours being not-quite-awake, then a little while wondering why I was awake, then I realised! Spontaneous labour! Success! Half the battle already won! I kept it to myself for a time, then woke up my husband and told him we were on our way. That was when the feeling of disbelief started.

Q: You had a really supportive midwife with you - how did you affect your experience?
A: My midwife was amazing. She was so calm and welcoming, and completely unconcerned by the fact that I was an "attempted VBAC" - as it said on my admission papers (very encouraging!). She asked us if we had a birthing plan and was beautifully accepting of our straight forward "No!". She was of the view that a woman's body knows how to deliver a baby, so was happy just to observe and support. She could tell I was ready to push before I could, and was happy to let me be without any interference. She didn't mind that I was on all fours on the floor and encouraged me to accept what felt right when it came time to delivering my daughter, even though I had chosen an 'unconventional' position. (My OB was most displeased when he arrived. But hey - he wasn't doing the hard yards!).

Q: How did it feel, to birth Meg in the way you had intended?
A: I was stunned when the moment came to deliver her. I had been expecting the orderly to arrive at any minute and wheel me off to theatre. I can clearly remember the midwife putting on her gown and gloves and my husband asking her what she was doing. "There's going to be a baby born in here in a minute, I'm just getting ready." We looked at each other in disbelief, it was such a surprise! The feeling, when my baby girl was passed to me, was out of this world! (...and hilarious - the cord wasn't long enough so I couldn't hang on to her and had to give her back to the midwife - all very slapstick!). I still couldn't believe what had happened and it felt so good when other midwives came in to congratulate me on a successful VBAC.

Q: What is your advice for women who are planning a VBAC?
A: Don't plan it. Prepare for the fact that it might happen, but prepare equally for the fact that it might not. But do try. Be strong when you are talking to your OB. Listen to advice but decide for yourself. And enjoy your new baby, regardless of how he/she is born. 

I would love for the comments section to become a bit of a discussion board. If you have any specific questions for me, I'm more than happy to answer them. If you have had a VBAC, or are hoping to experience one, I'd love to hear your story. I do ask, however, that all comments are respectful and, if possible, kind.

I have been asked if I'm going to write about preparing for a caesarean birth - yes, most definitely. 

Now is also a good time to remind you that I am not a midwife, medical practitioner or birth educator. I'm a yoga teacher, mother and journalist. My stories are informed by my own experience, research and the blessing that has been the meeting, teaching and learning from my pre-natal students. 

Q & A - Making Peace With Birth

Q & A

Last year when I discussed writing a series of posts on yoga for pregnancy and birth I had the very best of intentions. Clearly I was still in the new-muma stage, reality set in and my words never did come to fruition. 

But, if my inbox is any indication, it seems that quite a few of you are patiently waiting. Thanks for the nudge, because I'm now organised enough to share what I know about prenatal yoga and birth preparation.

In the next few days I'll be publishing a post on Preparing for a VBAC - Vaginal Birth After Caesarian. If you are one of the thousands of women considering this birth option I encourage you to research, prepare and surround yourself with encouraging and loving support. 

For those of you wanting to know more about conscious conception.....that's next on the list. 

Please remember that I am not a midwife, medical practitioner or birth educator. I'm a yoga teacher, mother and journalist. My stories are informed by my own experience, research and the blessing that has been the meeting, teaching and learning from my pre-natal students. 

Q & A - Making Peace With Birth

"pure utter joy"

"Only a mother can understand the joy of locking eyes with her newborn babe the moment they take their first breath.

After the powerful journey of labour, Natalia embraces her babe for the very first time. Sheer exhilaration, joy and love describes the moment of bringing forth her child. The gentle hand of her midwife, trusting in the innate wisdom of birth." - Photographer Jane McCrae

Natalia was one of my yoga students...it was a blessing to teach her and compare belly notes as we grew our baby girls at the same time. Her midwife, Lisa from Bella Birthing, is a new independent midwife on the Central Coast and has supported two of my students in their pregnancy and birthing journeys (I hear she is absolutely wonderful).

I know exactly what Natalia was feeling at this moment, when she held little Estelle for the first time. If you're a Muma, you know what this feels like. Which is why you should head over here and vote 10/10 for this photo in the 2011 National Geographic Photo Contest.

Natalia was supported by Lisa in the comfort of her own home and birthed her baby girl in the water. This photo is proof that homebirth is a safe and joyous option for those who choose it. Proof that homebirth is good and normal and natural. For more homebirth inspiration, look here.

Q&A - Making Peace With Birth

Through teaching pre-natal yoga I have met countless mothers who struggle with the memories of their first birth. The emotions that stem from their experiences are deeply embedded. I wasn't surprised when so many of you commented or emailed me with the same question: "How do I journey towards my second birth if my first was such a traumatic/painful/scary experience?"

You have to make peace.

Bee has come to my yoga classes during both her pregnancies. When she turned up to class for her second pregnancy we greeted each other with open arms - delighted to be growing our babies at the same time. She was eight weeks ahead of me in her pregnancy and she was struggling.

Bee suffers from Hyperemesis - severe nausea and vomiting during pregnancy. It's not just morning sickness - she vomits from five weeks pregnant right up until she births. She constantly feels sick. Sometimes she vomits eight times a day.

I knew that her pregnancy was a challenge and so I comforted her and attempted to nurture her in the best way that I could - encouraging her physical, emotional and spiritual journey through the practice of yoga. Bee was also unhappy about her first birth and needed to process the experience before she could move on to 'preparing' for her second birth.

This is what I knew. Which, it turns out, was only a snippet of the story.

I contacted Bee a few weeks ago and asked if she would be interested in being interviewed. She had told me that during the birth workshop she attended that she had made peace with her first birth so I knew that she would be the perfect candidate for this post.

When she sent me her story I sat in awe. Without doubt she is the most courageous and equally gracious woman I have ever met. But since reading her story I have a new-found respect for her unending strength, love and determination.

Bee wholeheartedly knows what it means to surrender and let go. She knows how to make peace. I'll let her tell the story...

Bee, how did you feel after the birth of your first-born?

Initially, I was elated to be holding my beautiful baby girl, Lacy, and very proud of myself for pushing her out despite difficult circumstances. However, in the days that followed I felt embarrassed, disappointed and traumatised. I was firstly embarrassed as my Husband and other nursing staff had told me how “loud” I was during the labour. This mortified me, as all I could think about was how horrible and scary it must have been for other birthing mothers and the nursing staff to listen to me screaming. Secondly, I was disappointed - I so desperately wanted to have a natural birth – “drug free” - and ended up having an epidural and suction due to Lacy’s posterior position. These first two feelings were easy enough to process however it was the trauma that remained until half way through my second pregnancy. I believe that the trauma arose from loosing the sound of Lacy’s heart beat during active labour. When I couldn’t hear her heart beat I became terrified which resulted in very high pitch screaming (little did I know that we lost the sound of her heart beat because she had turned to a posterior position). Nobody reassured me that my baby was ok and I was too engrossed in my fear to be able to articulate what was bothering me. In that moment, I felt that I had fought so valiantly through Hyperemesis to have my Lacy, that I couldn’t loose her now. I was also desperately missing my mum, who had passed away 10 months earlier. I had often pictured her as a grandmother and being there at the moment of my birth - my grief in that moment was indescribable. Then there was the pain!! So large had my ball of fear become that I could not focus on beautifully riding each contracting and the pain shot through me like a samurai’s sword.

Two days after Lacy was born I was still having flashbacks of the labour as well as nightmares. While still in hospital, I awoke during the night believing I was still in the stirrups pushing. When coming out of the dream state I cried and cried. Also, upon my 6 week visit to the obstetrician, I had to go into the stirrups again. My legs started to shake and I felt sick.

However, there were moments of the birth that I did remember as beautiful. During the initial stages of labour I used visualisation and breathing techniques learned through Yoga and Calm Birthing. I remembered joyfully riding each contracting as it ebbed and flowed like a rhythmic wave and believing that I was dancing and floating in this lovely state of fertility, motherhood and beauty. Unfortunately, these memories were often pushed away when they arose, as in the end all that remained was guilt and shame and fear about my first labour experience.

How did the experience differ to your expectations?

I had expected a quiet, controlled and very calm birth with Lacy so the reality of my labour with her was disappointing. During the “Calm Birthing” training that I did prior to Lacy’s birth, we watched a video of a lady in labour. She was quiet, strong and beautiful, and during my visualisation practise, I had pictured my labour just like that. I knew that it would be hard work and had pictured myself being confident and strong whilst working hard. I was assured that my body would know what it was doing. All I had to do was remain present and focused and my baby would come out.

When you fell pregnant with Paxton, were you fearful of birth?

I was very fearful of the birth however I knew I had nine months to deal with my emotions and I was confident that I could do so. I also held onto the memories of my initial stages of labour with Lacy and thought that if I didn’t let fear take over I would be ok. However, there was no time for dwelling on thoughts of labour. At five weeks Hyperemesis set in again! This time it was much more virulent than before and all I could focus on was surviving the next hour through waves of nausea, until I could finally vomit, and get beautiful relief for five minutes before it started again. This cycle continued relentlessly. The medication I took in my first pregnancy had no effect. At eight weeks I ended up in hospital with dehydration and dwindling mental stability. I started to question if I could continue with the pregnancy. These thoughts brought much heartache to my family and friends who encouraged me to “just keep going”. Little did well-meaning friends and family realise that to “just keep going” meant donning a suit of armour and charging into battle. The thought of which exhausted me. Hyperemesis slowly broke me down on every level – physically, spiritually and emotionally. At 10 weeks I was back in hospital dehydrated again and this time I really wanted to end the pregnancy. I had forgotten what it felt like to be well and simple things like brushing my teeth and combing my hair were luxuries that had been stolen. I was also desperately missing the company of my two-year-old who was very distressed that mummy was unwell and I was devastated that I was not able to console and reassure her.

Twelve weeks came and I had had enough. It was at the point where I said to God “you either need to take my life or allow my body to spontaneously abort – I’m done”. After saying this, I gave up. Through choked tears I booked a pregnancy termination. Minutes after booking the termination the phone rang and it was a very dear friend. He told me that he felt impressed to take some time off work and camp outside my bedroom door and pray and fast for the survival of my baby. I told him to do whatever he though was necessary as I had given up and didn’t care any more. My friend’s act of sacrifice – giving up food and work, prompted my husband and another friend to pray and fast also. I thought this act was beautiful. Three husbands and fathers giving up food and work to petition God for the survival of an unborn child they didn’t even know. On the second day of the “Fasting Fathers” I was able to get an appointment with the obstetrician who had nursed me through Lacy’s pregnancy. Upon arrival at his surgery he welcomed me with unbridled compassion and support. With confidence he said if this was a life or death situation, he was prepared to hit me with “the kitchen sink” of medications – steroids, sedatives and vitamins - and pray for the best. With no hope, I downed the medication and within 24 hours I was only vomiting four times a day. I was then able to say “I can do this now.” I cancelled the termination the evening before we were due for our appointment. The “Fasting Fathers” then ate a victory meal.

How did you come to realise that in order to prepare for Paxton's birth you had to make peace with your first birth experience?

Making peace with birth was a long process. Not only was there a fear of labour, there was an emotional block between my baby and myself and intense anger that once again, Hyperemesis had robbed me of a beautiful pregnancy. For me, anger is an emotion that disconnects me from my body and spirit so I had no idea what I needed at first. I resented being pregnant and thought that this baby was an inconvenience that had robbed me of wellness. I didn’t even know why I decided to have another baby after my horrible first pregnancy and birth experience. Of course, this thinking resulted in me seeking professional help and I commenced treatment through the peri-natal mental health team.

At 20 weeks, a very broken mum-to-be commenced yoga. Yoga was my mainstay through my first pregnancy and was the only thing that seemed to connect me to my body, spirit and emotions. During the first class we were asked to develop a sankalpa - a positive affirmation for me and my baby. When I attempted to develop a sankalpa no words or pictures came to me. I searched and searched my spirit and it was empty. All I could do was cry. This was when I knew I needed to change my thinking but I still didn’t know I needed peace. For the entirety of the first block of yoga (six weeks) when asked to repeat my sankalpa I forced myself to tell my baby I loved him. I then began to do this practise several times a day and finally by the second block of yoga I bean to feel more positive about my baby.

One of my yoga teacher’s themes during the first block of yoga was “surrender”. This was sooooo difficult at first. My yoga teacher had us all sit against the wall in a squat position and “surrender”– which involved a fair amount of discomfort. As I practised “surrendering” and “letting go” of negative thoughts, my strength improved. Both physically and mentally I was stronger. I then applied “surrendering” to my vomiting and suddenly, each vomit became bearable and just part of my normal day. By “surrendering” I was able to ignore my vomiting, interact with Lacy, get out and see my girlfriends and start participating in everyday life. However, I still was not happy with my sankalpa – something was not right about it. I decided to ask friends and family what theme I could have or hold onto for this pregnancy. My Aunty said “peace”. I had a total body and emotional reaction to this word and was angry that she would think that with all I was going through, I needed something as stupid as “peace”. After calming down, I realised that if I had reacted so violently to this word – peace was what I needed. At this point peace felt so unattainable - once again I grieved.

Can you describe how you found peace?

Prayer, relaxation and yoga were my main comforts during this time. I pressed into my spiritual self and petitioned God for answers. A beautiful song that I had sung in church as a child came back to me - “I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river in my soul”. I then realised that the most powerful weapon I had against difficult circumstances was being “at peace”. I began to imagine myself dressed in armour each day being a “peaceful warrior” - while the fight was raging around, was able to be centred and clear to determine the battle strategy. Then the strategy came. I firstly compartmentalised my situation. I separated the pregnancy, from my baby and from my labour and knew I had three parts to deal with – pregnancy, baby and labour. With excitement, I realised that I had already made peace with the pregnancy, through the practise of surrendering and letting go. Letting go of expectation of how things “should” have been and letting go of my desire to control what was happening to me gave me such freedom. Upon this realisation a fresh infusion of hope and enthusiasm flooded me.

I then had to make peace with my baby. Making peace with the baby was so entangled with emotion. I put this off for many, many days. I felt guilty and ashamed that I had come to that point of booking a termination – how could I ever make peace with that? Intertwined with making peace with the baby was making peace with myself. Firstly I had to forgive myself. This involved more yoga, more prayer until I was able to once again “surrender” or let go of my emotions and decide - I am a mother, beautifully flawed, who loves and has selflessly endured to get this far in my pregnancy. Through an outpouring of tears I was able to then speak through the walls of my uterus to my baby and tell him how sorry I was. I welcomed him to this world and told how much he was wanted. I told him he was conceived in love and that even though that love was threatened, love had conquered and I would see him soon. He did a flip inside me and turned from a breach to anterior position.

I was so overjoyed to have made peace with my bub that I wanted a party and an opportunity to tell those close to me about the peace that I had found. One rainy afternoon, I invited all of those close to me who had endured the pregnancy with me. The “Fasting Fathers”, had the seat of honour in my heart but I knew that they wanted their act to remain private so I could not publicly honour them as I would have liked. Through more tears I told my testimony of finding peace and how each one in attendance had played their part to result in the survival of this unborn baby. Other’s who could not attend the afternoon were given a card detailing how they, as a community, had supported the survival of my baby. It was all very beautiful, raw and emotional.

Finally, I had to make peace with the birth or labour process. I had enrolled in a yogic birth preparation class through my yoga school. During that class I changed my sankalpa to reflect what I had learned about peace and began welcoming peace into my body and spirit. My husband was also in attendance at this class and made a commitment to stand with me in my desire for peace. My husband and I made declarations to each other about what we wanted for the birth and collectively called in peace, surrender, love and calm to what we already felt about birthing and labour.

During this class a family who had recently birthed told their birth story. The mother talked about being loud and “roaring like a bear” and how much release she felt from doing this during her labour. I instantly knew that this was the tool I needed for my birth. I had already been practising making noise during yoga and had built up a tolerance for making noise and not feeling embarrassed. After hearing this story I no longer felt embarrassed about making noise and practised making noise through each yogic position with gusto. My husband also apologised for asking me to be quiet during my first labour and willingly made noise with me as we practised yoga together. It was then that I joyfully told my yoga teacher that I had made peace with birth during the birth preparation class and that I felt confident and empowered to birth my baby without fear. Fear no longer had control over me and I felt as if my whole body, spirit and emotions had been wash clean of the previous labour - I was free, in love with my baby and happy.

How were you feeling as you journeyed towards the end of your pregnancy?

Released - is the only word to describe how I felt in the latter weeks of my pregnancy. I admired my bulging body and embraced the imminent labour with excitement. Fearful thoughts still popped up but I was able to replace them with peace instantly. I was so strong and powerful during those last weeks. I felt as though I was floating in every task I was doing and that I was radiating beauty as I once again prepared for birthing. I intensified my yoga practise and visualised a peaceful birth. I visualised riding each contraction as it built to a peak and sliding down the other side. I practised a number of different breaths to support each stage in my labour and felt as though I had several tools to help me through anything I might encounter. I then knew that my baby’s name needed to have something to do with peace.

How was Paxton's birth different to Lacy's?

Due to my history of Hyperemesis my Obstetrician and I decided to have an indication at 39 weeks. This was done to prevent dehydration due to vomiting and also to combat fatigue as the Hyperemesis had already taken so much of my energy stores. On the day of the induction I became very inwardly drawn and began to practise my breathing from the moment I was in the car on the way to the hospital.

At the hospital, everything was done very slowly to allow my body as much time as possible to naturally go into labour. Upon breaking my waters contractions became more regular and I quickly progressed to three centimetres dilated. My husband I were laughing and watching movies as I breathed through each contraction – totally at peace. An epidural was then booked, due to the history of my previous labour and the posterior position of my baby. I asked for the epidural to be on the lowest setting so that I could still feel some of the contractions. Surprisingly, I had great movement and was able to get into different positions, breath easily and most importantly focus on visualising my cervix opening. My obstetrician then popped in to deliver the news that I was ten centimetres dilated and that I was ready to push. I knew this before he told me as I was so “in touch” with my body – despite the epidural. I felt a very strong pressure in my bowel and being my second time in labour knew that pushing was not far away. My husband in a bit of a panic said “ right what do you want me to do now that the baby is posterior again”. I said, a bit angrily “You can pray that the baby turns anterior!”

I had done so much practice surrendering and letting in peace that as I began to push I did it with such power, control and calmness. Everyone in my birthing suit was relaxed and having a good time. The energy in the room was alert but calm. As my baby’s head hit the perineum I knew that I was going to call him Paxton, which means “from a peaceful place”. Upon this realisation and through my husband’s prayer Paxton turned to the anterior position and slipped out into this world with loud exclamations. As soon as he was in my arms we regarded each other and I told him he was home. We were both at peace. He hungrily fed.

What is your advice for women who want to make peace with their birth experience?

My love and support go out to all mothers yet to birth that need to make peace with their first birth experience. You are warrior women who will succeed in this task as you successfully brought your first child into the world.

Firstly, I would encourage you to acknowledge what you went through the first time. Look at the experience objectively and process any emotions attached to that experience. In order to process emotions I would encourage you to become in-tuned to your spiritual self. I had a belief in God so this was a source of strength for me however I also used yoga, visualisation, relaxation, journaling and long beach walks. Talk. Talk openly and honestly with girlfriends or a counsellor if need be. Some women are blessed with beautiful birth experiences first time round. Other women for whatever reason are not. Honestly admitting that you were not pleased with your first birth experience is ok. Accept that the experience was not great as this brings a platform to begin welcoming in change. There are excellent peri-natal counsellors who can help with this if you need help.

Develop a “sankalpa” - a positive affirmation for you and your baby. In my experience, this meant finding the thing that was the most negative – fear, from my first birth experience, and declaring the opposite – peace, in a warrior like fashion every day. Yogi’s believe that repeating your sankalpa to yourself everyday and not revealing it to anyone else will result in it being realised – this was very true for me. Not only was I in love with my baby but I was also at peace.

Surrender – my yoga teacher said “don’t push the river, it flows by itself”. Surrender to what is going to happen, allow it to wash over you. Visualise yourself being at peace within your labour and choose to believe that the old birth experience has no precedent on the new. It is a new labour and it will be different from your first - it can also be joyful and peaceful.

Practise yoga or another very spiritual exercise suitable to you. Our society in the western world is so caught up in instant gratification, noise and business. All of these distractions can separate us from our body, emotions and spirit. For me, Yoga and prayer allowed me to grieve my first labour and positively process emotions so that by the time I was ready to birth I had been washed clean of any baggage that may have stood in the way of birthing my second baby with peace.

Finally, from the bottom of my heart, peace and blessings to any mother yet to birth. You are beautiful and strong in your vulnerability. Peace can be yours once you choose it.

Q & A

A few weeks ago I wondered if you had any questions for me about yoga for pregnancy, birth and beyond. It turns out that you do. I have decided to write a series of posts to 'answer' you and some will be accompanied by interviews with a few of my past students. Topics will include:

• "Conscious Conception"
• "Preparing for a VBAC"
• "Letting go of Fear"
• "Preparing for a Homebirth"
• "Surrender"
• "Making Space and Being Calm"
• "Preparing for a Caesarian Birth"

Tomorrow I'll be posting about a topic that, it seems, will resonate with many of you. "Making Peace with Birth" will include a little discussion from me accompanied by the courageous and gracious story of one of my beautiful students, Bee. Her story is an unforgettable one.

If you are reading this and would like to ask me a question, please go ahead. I'll add it to the list!

Now is a good time to mention that I am not a midwife, a medical practitioner or a birth educator. I'm a yoga teacher, mother and journalist. These stories are informed by my own experiences, research and the blessing that has been the meeting, teaching and learning from my pre-natal students.

Till tomorrow...

Photo by Daniel Grey

the yoga of birth + giveaway

Yoga is so much more than an asana (posture) practice. I learned this in its fullness when I was a new Muma. My yoga was the way I went about my day with my baby. It wasn't stretching into downward dog or attending a class every week. My sadhana (spiritual practice) occurred every day - in my home. Perhaps it was the way I cooked the evening meal, or the thoughts I had when I walked with Che. Perhaps it was the (((((oms))))) I chanted when he was unsettled or the mental relaxation I practiced while he fed. My yoga, right now, is my mothering and it is this very concept that Katie Manitsas addresses in her new book The Yoga Of Birth.

Katie is the only advanced certified Jivamukti yoga teacher in Australia and is the founder of Jivamukti Sydney (formerly Samadhi). She is an inspiring creative, a mother of two young boys - Christos and Ziggy, a doula and is currently studying the Montessori method for preschoolers.

The Yoga of Birth is the first book of its kind. It addresses the importance of a conscious conception (something I experienced with Poet and indeed I vouch for it!), yoga to support and nurture your self during pregnancy, yoga for a natural birth, the first forty days (aka babymoon), baby massage, starting solids and wholesome food for toddlers. Katie's voice, her wisdom and nurturing self are vivid throughout each chapter as she gently discusses the beauty of a woman's body and the wonder that is conception, pregnancy and birth.

I read each page while Poet slept beside me in those first few weeks of her life. I found myself nodding to so much of what Katie was saying and absolutely loving the fact that, above anything else, she encourages pregnant women and mothers to slow down, take care and just be. Wise, wise words.

The official launch of The Yoga of Birth will take place at Jivamukti Yoga Studio in Newtown on Saturday 24th September at 10am. There will be kids face painting, healthy snacks, a family friendly vibe, free pregnancy goody bags and a short introduction to the book from Katie as well as a book signing.

Katie has kindly signed a copy of The Yoga of Birth and would like one of you to take it home, read it and learn from it. If you like, leave a comment below (feel free to ask me a question about yoga for pregnancy, birth and beyond and I will answer in a post next week) and you will go in the draw. Entries close Thursday 29th September. Gaby is also hosting the same giveaway tomorrow.

I had the pleasure of interviewing Katie...read on and enjoy!


UPDATE: The winner, using the Random Number Generator is Bridget. However, I feel like my copy needs to be passed on to someone that needs to read its wisdom, someone that needs to be comforted by its message. And so I hope that Yasmin will receive it with gratitude and be inspired x

Jodi: Katie, you found yoga at a young age. How did your practice evolve when you discovered you were pregnant?

Katie: Well, I have two children and the changes were different for each pregnancy. When I found out I was pregnant with my first child it was unexpected and at the time I have a very strong, physically dynamic yoga practice. It changed very radically because I was very nauseous and the practice made the sickness worse. It was really difficult for me to let go of the attachment to the dynamic practice. With my second pregnancy I was already a mother and to a certain extent had made that transition already.

Jodi: How did yoga support your pregnancy journey?

Katie: Yoga is a practice of transformation and supports us as we go through tumultuous times and times of great change. Pregnancy in many ways is a roller-coaster ride. A spiritual practice can provide a safe and steady space within those ups and downs.

Jodi: So many things change when you become a Muma...did your understanding of yoga change?

Katie: Of course! Motherhood takes you out of the centre of the circle. Suddenly another being, your holy baby, becomes the centre of your world. It’s the ultimate Karma Yoga or yoga of service. Nothing can prepare you for this! It’s a wonderful blessing and a huge challenge at the same time. It took me time to adapt. Usually I am a person who processes things (emotionally) quite quickly. But becoming a mother took me some time. At first I wanted nothing in my life to change, I’d say stuff like ‘I’m just going to do everything I used to do and I’ll take the baby / child with me’. Yeah, right. That never happened. Life changes when you have children. I learned to surrender. To spend less time working on my handstand or splits practice and more time changing nappies and going to playgroup. And through that process my understanding of yoga was nourished and deepened enormously.

Jodi: How did you incorporate yoga into your life as a new muma?

Katie: I meditate more than I did because sometimes I am sleep deprived and just not up to dynamic asana. I chant mantra everyday. I chant my children to sleep every night so that if I haven’t done any other practice that day at least I got to practice japa (mantra recitation). My four year old knows lots of beautiful Sanskrit mantras because of this routine! When I make a family meal for us all in the evenings (which happens on most nights of the week) I try to do this with an attitude of Sadhana (conscious spiritual practice). I’m fortunate because during the time I am cooking there is usually someone else at home to help look after the children and I can just focus on making a beautiful meal for us all to share as a family together. This is an important part of the day for me and I see it as a kind of practice. I’m not breastfeeding any more but when I was that was always a great time for mantra and meditation too. Sometimes we all do yoga together as a family. I usually ‘teach’ everyone and we each have a mat and join in. It’s mayhem!

Jodi: You were obviously inspired by your first birth experience because you became a doula soon after. What is it like to support a woman in the transition of birth?

Katie: There are not words to describe the feeling of watching a new being enter the world. It’s so close to the feeling of watching a person leave the body (in death). A magical, mysterious, otherworldly experience. Precious beyond words. Sacred.

Jodi: How do you believe yoga can support a woman during pregnancy, birth and beyond?

Katie: Yoga teaches us to be present and available for the reality of what is really happening in a given moment. Not to run from the truth or pretend a situation is other than it is. So yoga can help you say ‘yes I have morning sickness and I feel terrible and I’m not coping’ but it also helps us remember ‘I know this will shift and change soon enough’. On a physical level yoga as a great deal to offer in terms of techniques for helping a woman to have a healthy, natural birthing experience. There is lots more info. about that in the book.

Jodi: How can a woman best prepare for a natural birth experience - a birth she doesn't want to forget?

Katie: By slowing down. Resting. Connecting to her instincts. And by gathering like-minded, strong spirited support people around her to encourage and nurture her intention.

Jodi: Lastly, home birth in Australia is being threatened...what can we do to ensure we always have choice as to where we birth our babies?

Katie: Gosh this is such a huge topic and it’s controversial. I’m so saddened that home birth has become so difficult here. In many parts of Europe (including the UK where I am from originally) it’s a normal and health option. Here is Australia it is seen as ‘alternative’ and is becoming next to impossible. I’m not sure there is much we can do except to be a voice for our beliefs and speak out for women’s choices. Also I would say this, ‘where there is a will, there is a way’. That’s usually true even if there are many obstacles.

the growing and birthing of Poet Winter

It rained in October 2010. On and off the clouds grew heavy and eventually they let go. In October 2010 my parsley and mint were thriving in their terracotta pots.

She was conceived in the spring time while the rain drops fell.

Daniel wasn't convinced until I placed three pregnancy tests in front him. Two blue lines on each. I was quite certain of my dates and so I wrote, in white chalk, on our kitchen wall: 18th of July 2011. I'm the biggest sceptic of 'estimated due dates'. I don't really believe in them. But she proved me wrong. On the 18th of July 2011, just after lunch, she began her journey.

She grew within me for exactly 40 weeks. But I had dreamed of a little dark haired girl long before she was conceived. And I felt like I was preparing for her birth for many years before she entered my mind.

In my first labour, with her big brother, Che, I was shocked by the intensity and unprepared for the pain. I laboured for a good 31 hours, resisting each contraction, fighting every wave. Subsequently it hurt and although labour was strong, I stayed at 3cm for hours and hours and hours. It wasn't until I lay on the bed, curled up in the foetal position, waiting for an epidural, that I fully dilated within 40 minutes and held my first born shortly after.

It was a positive experience but not an enjoyable one.

I had prepared many women for their own birth journeys in my pre-natal classes. Week in, week out, I encouraged them to open their mouths, breathe deep, fall into the contraction and surrender to the journey. Teaching while pregnant was new to me. I had to remind myself to listen to my self, listen to those words. I was preparing too, getting closer to the transition of birth.

In the last few weeks of pregnancy I wondered whether I had prepared enough. Daniel and I spoke one night about surrender. "Just let your body do it, because it's going to do it anyway."

From the day I discovered I was growing her, I created my sankalpa. Yogis believe that a sankalpa (a positive affirmation) that is repeated daily and never shared, will always be realised. And so, every day, I said to myself, three times with meaning and emphasis: "I will carry my baby to full term and birth calmly and confidently, a healthy baby."

I always encouraged my students to do the same. And yet I knew, from all those birth stories that had been shared with me, that none of us can control our birth experience. Yes we can prepare and we can desire but ultimately we just need to surrender to where our birth journey takes us.

At about 35 weeks pregnant I decided to journey towards birth with acceptance. I surrendered the need to control. When blood tests showed significantly low iron levels my midwife informed me that I might not be able to birth at the low risk birth centre I had booked in to. I accepted the news calmly, promised I would do everything I could to increase my iron levels but, at the end of the day, I had to accept that all would be well. My baby was going to be born regardless of where I was.

Teaching pregnant women is a humbling experience. I have heard stories of troubled conception, miscarriage, pregnancy complications, pregnancy loss, ecstatic birth, traumatic birth. There were some stories that inspired and comforted me on my pregnancy journey and some stories that I consciously needed to let go of.

Some days I had unending faith in my body and its ability to birth my baby. At other times that faith wavered, particularly in the last week of pregnancy when I became bedridden with a heavy cold. On the Sunday before she arrived I cried big tears, the kind that leave red eyes and a headache in their wake. She was getting closer, I could tell, and yet I and no idea how I was going to labour while I felt so sick.

The next morning I woke to sunshine. And I felt good, really good. The best I'd felt in over a week. I was rested and happy. And I was oh so grateful for it. That morning I decided to practice gratitude in each and every contraction - gratitude for my body, my health and the opportunity to experience labour and natural birth.

I wrote a post that morning and I typed the words: " I think I've been holding on to baby a bit, because of my cold, but now I'm ready to let go and labour. "

She obviously heard me because soon after my Braxton Hicks became noticeably stronger. The sun streamed through the windows and I pottered about. I washed the bed linen in gentle eucalyptus detergent, I tended to the herbs on the balcony and I washed the dishes. I checked, once again, that my bag was ready. Che came home from Montessori and the 3 of us ate a late lunch. We were content and calm and happy and I was breathing wonderfully deep through each BH. Still, I was certain that labour was days away.

In the early evening I made dinner and listened, once again, to Che as he told me how much he loved me. He had said it so many times that afternoon, he'd been extra cuddly, never far from my sight. Perhaps then I knew that things were happening. Because in his own way he was preparing, readying himself, for the biggest change in his life so far.

I tucked him into bed extra tight that night, kissed him some more and picked up the books that were scattered on the floor.

And when he was settled and soundly asleep the Braxton Hicks became mild contractions.

Daniel and I started to get excited but I kept reminding him that it could be days away. I honestly didn't think she was so close.

We watched some TV and went to bed. At this stage the contractions were about seven minutes apart, lasting for about 40 seconds. At 10pm we messaged Daniel's Mum (Ommi) to say that I was in early labour and asked her to keep her phone on.

Daniel fell asleep and I dozed in and out of slumber, waking with the waves. I breathed deep and by 11pm I was moaning. It felt good to make noise. I was on my knees on the bed, resting on my forearms, rotating my hips and keeping my mouth open and soft. In between contractions I fell into the pillows, mentally travelling around my body to ensure I wasn't holding any tension. I felt good. I was confident.

At midnight I asked Daniel to phone his Mum. I still wasn't sure if this was the real thing but I knew I'd feel better if she was here, to be with Che. In the fifteen minutes it took for her to get to us I didn't have any contractions and yet when she looked into the bedroom and said "hello" I experienced the strongest contraction yet. Time went by, Daniel lay beside me as I contracted and I reminded myself to let go, to be, to just go with the flow. I started wondering whether I should call my midwife. It was late, I didn't want to wake her unnecessarily, I still wasn't sure whether I was in labour. Sure the waves were getting closer and stronger but I wasn't feeling a great sense of urgency to get to the birth centre.

I suddenly felt the urge to go to the toilet, a pressing down into my bottom. My body was clearing out and then the contractions became stronger once again. Ommi suggested I call the midwives - apparently the noises I was making had got deeper and longer in the time that she'd been with us.

I phoned Marianne, the midwife on call. My midwife, Val, had promised that she would be with me at my birth even if it was her rostered day off. I had two contractions while chatting with Marianne and she encouraged us to come in. She promised that she would call Val. At 2am I kissed Che goodbye, message my parents to tell them baby was on its way, and Daniel and I drove off into the night.

Ommi lay on a mattress beside Che's bed all night. She later told me that he moaned through his sleep, making the same noises I was during each contraction.

We passed four cars on the way to the birth centre. What was usually a 45 minute drive only took us 20 minutes. When we pulled into the car park there were three rabbits on the grass, illuminated by our headlights. The little suit I had packed to dress baby in had three embroidered rabbits on the front. I smiled at the coincidence.

We went into the Emergency Department and waited for our midwife. I was swaying and moaning through eah contraction, physically and mentally falling into each one. I was smiling, Daniel told me, and all the on-lookers smiled with me.

The nurses in ED laughed while they warned me that they weren't trained to deliver babies. And I, being the passionate natural birth advocate that I am, informed them that I was the only one that could deliver my baby. In labour and still willing to voice my opinion.

The nurse walked us through the corridors to the Birth Centre. The lights were dim. I stopped once to squat and sway and looked up to see a painting of butterflies, similar to a painting I contracted in front of when I was in labour with Che. When Marianne welcomed us into the Birth Centre I noticed the butterflies on her shirt. We were the only ones there and when I walked into the Birthing Suite I cried. The room was calm, the lights dim and there was a photo on the wall of a little boy hugging his Muma's pregnant belly. He looked just like Che.

The downward pressure in each contraction was incredibly strong. It literally pulled me towards the earth. As I felt the next contraction arrive I reminded myself how lucky I was, to be so in my body, so full of faith, working together with my baby. Marianne checked my blood pressure and the baby's heartbeat. All was well, as I knew.

Not once did I feel fear.

Daniel set up the cameras, I sipped water, Marianne quietly busied herself.

I was leaning against the bath, facing away from the door when I started crying again. I turned around and Val was there. I began to realise what an intuitive experience it was. My senses were heightened yet my awareness was steadily moving inward, downward.

At this stage all the pressure was in the front of my pelvis. I was squatting and swaying and it felt really good to rub my belly in a downward motion, encouraging her to move earth-side. An internal confirmed that I was 5cm dilated. It was 3am.

I journeyed from standing to sitting on the ball, leaning over the bed. Val knew when to rub my back and when to stop. I felt blessed to be with midwives who had the utmost faith and trust in me and my body. Val was in tune with my needs; she was calm, grounded and supportive. She spoke when she knew I wanted to listen, was quiet when I needed space. Most of the time she observed. After one particularly strong contraction she rubbed my lower back and asked me if the pressure was there now. And it was, it has shifted. She knew from simply listening to me. I didn't need to question whether I was progressing because I could feel it. The pressure was steadily moving deeper into my bottom. I stripped off my shirt and put my hair up in a bun.

"She means business now," said Val. Humour; an essential part of an enjoyable labour.

I hung off Daniel's neck, my squats getting even deeper, I moaned deep and long to ensure I was letting go with each outward breath, the vibration in my body was powerful from those noises, and they were sending her down. I kept my mouth soft and open, my eyes closed in each contraction so I could internalise and focus on my breath. Daniel was so proud of me, I could see it in his face. He just kept smiling at me, rubbing my back, getting me what I needed. So much love.

Just before I got in the bath I remembered the faces of past students and their inspiring stories. Natasha, Belinda, Mel, Sara, Ashley, Sarah, Jacinta, Meagan, Antonia, Amanda. They were all there in the forefront of my mind, encouraging me. The wisdom of the women who had birthed before me. I was still smiling, still enjoying it, happy to be in it. So very grateful for the opportunity to be birthing my baby and to be supported by such wise, loving midwives.

I instinctively knew it was time to sink into the warm water (buoyancy!) and when Val asked me if I'd like Daniel to get in too, I declined. "It's so nice to stretch out," I said. I wasn't willing to share the spacious bath with anyone. It was 4.15am.

I lay on my side, desperately needing strong, long back rubs during contractions and completely softening in the resting space between. She was oh so close, the pressure in my bottom was powerful, I could feel her head pressing down, and hard. I moved onto my knees and leant my torso against the edge of the bath.

Although each contraction was long, deep and almighty, the space between was lovely. I only had a few contractions in the bath before I felt her descend. I was still falling down into the contraction and now, so was she - it was 4.40am. I asked for a cold face-washer and I crunched ice between waves - the cool sensation was welcoming. I didn't have to push; the noises and their subsequent vibrations moved her down. She was almost here. As she was crowning I noticed the silence and asked for music to play.

She was born to Sacred Earth's "Ancient Mother" and the words: "Ancient mother I hear you calling me, ancient mother I hear your song, ancient mother I hear your laughter, ancient mother I taste your tears."

At 4.47am she swam into Daniel's arms. "It's a girl," he said, his face was beaming pure joy. And then he passed her to me. She was here and she was beautiful. "A girl! It's a girl. My baby girl!" She was chirping little noises, she was pink, covered in vernix. She was wide-eyed and alert, lifting her head off my chest to see me. I kissed her, held her, couldn't quite believe she was here.

Poet.

Daniel took photos and I was deep in the just--birthed-my-baby haze, those hormones lifting me high. I understood what joyous birth felt like. Yes some of the contractions were painful but I wouldn't describe it as a painful experience. It was an honour and a privilege, to be so in my body, with so much faith, working with my baby as we travelled through the transition of birth.

I hardly bled, my body protecting itself because of my low iron levels. I stepped from the bath, my baby girl and I swathed in warm towels. "I feel like a princess," I said to the midwives. "You are," they replied. They helped me onto the bed where I lay for the next few hours. I delivered the placenta twenty minutes later.

Poet was calm and alert and attached easily. She fed for two hours, her eyes open the entire time. We bonded, chatted and fell in love. And then we went home to a warm house where Che cuddled up to her and said: "You're home now baby."


She was home. And we were four.