Since last Mother’s Day, I’ve witnessed 63 women transformed into mothers. Pretty cool, eh?
So, to all the wee ones - give your mum a big wet kiss tomorrow!!!
(Sorry mums. It will probably be somewhere between 5am and 6am...but, babies never did have a great sense of timing...)
When a single friend calls to say that she’s had “quite the night!” it can mean many things. But, when a client calls me post-baby...well, it means something completely different.
So, a client called to tell me that they’d had “quite the night!” She said that they had kept the night-time as low-key as possible. “Just like you said, Jacquie...lights out...no eye contact with the baby (Ed. note: If she sees you looking at her, then it’s party time!)...making sleep sounds during feedings...not waking a sleeping baby, diaper changing before the feed if needed, etc. etc.”
“Things were going quite well. Then, at 4am, I felt like one breast must have leaked all over the baby during the feed. In the dark, I used my hand and a cloth to wipe it up, then curled up with her and fell asleep.”
“Just after 6am, we all woke up, the sunshine streaming through the thin curtains, illuminating the bedroom scene...of poopy chaos!!!”
“My husband said if the room had been filmed in black and white, it could have passed as a scene of carnage!” she laughed, as she was telling me the story over the phone. “There was baby poop EVERYWHERE! It was smeared all over my face, my nightie, his hair, the baby’s hair...just everywhere! In our sleep, we’d rubbed it all over the sheets. too. I’d taken off her diaper, but not put another one on!!”
“We could have cried. But, we just sat there in bed, laughing. Because we remembered that you’d told us a similar story of another couple doing this...and using it as a good excuse to buy fancy sheets. So, we threw everything into the garbage (Editors note: I know, I know... this isn’t an eco-friendly story) and got into a bath together - all three of us. It was quite wonderful.”
Love it!
To all pregnant clients...here’s a “head’s up”. Some time after the baby’s born...you will make this phone call. The wording and timing may vary, but the questions will be essentially the same.
“I’ve got this pile of books here. One says to get the baby on a schedule, another says to feed on demand. But what does “demand” mean? What if the baby comes off after 10 minutes. Is that a feed? When do I change the baby? Before, after, or in the middle of a feed? Am I wrong to want to grab my baby away from visitors? You know, they’ve come all this way, and brought presents, but I just want to hide...”
We’ll probably spend up to an hour on this particular phone call. We’ll laugh together...we might cry together...then you’ll hang up the phone floating on air. Why? Because you will have been reminded of your infinite strength, your inner wisdom, and your ability to trust your body and your baby.
My role during the postpartum period is to help you tap into the same basic instinct that took you so beautifully through labour. Let’s assume, like most of my clients, you birthed without any disturbance, and everything was straight-forward. So, there shouldn’t be any major challenges to overcome (i.e. no latch problems caused by narcotics or aggressive suctioning, etc.) So, I will just have to remind you of your power that you drew on in labour, and remind you to continue trusting your body.
And, with the baby on the outside, you will trust her to teach you wisely and gently. You will be still and calm and hold her close always, in order to hear what she needs to teach you.
Just know that you will find it pretty freaky when she give you a withering look at midnight, as you’re changing her. It’s a look that will seem to say, “Oh, no, you really don’t know what you’re doing.” But then the look will be gone, and she will roll with whatever you’re doing, or cry and tell you a few stories. But she won’t hold a grudge. She’ll be amazingly forgiving.
And you’ll soon discover that changing her before a feed will save a lot of clean up time...because if you jostle her and change her AFTER a feed, she might easily throw up all over you and her new jammies. Then, she’ll be wide awake...and need another feeding...and the doorbell will ring...(don’t answer!)
And you’ll soon discover that zips and buttons and snaps can make you feel TOTALLY incompetent, so you’ll just buy those bag nighties with the envelope neck. Pull up the nightie, change the diaper, pull the nightie down. All done!
And you’ll also discover that a newborn baby is kind of like a 15 year old boy. “Hey, mum, I’m just going out to grab a bite.” “But, you just ate an hour ago!” “Yeah, great dinner, mum. Thanks! But I need a pizza.” No, you didn’t do a bad job as a mum. He’s just growing like a weed! Same deal with a newborn. Cluster feeds, marathon feeds, feeding every hour....whatever happens, it’s normal. Trust the baby to know what she needs - she won’t overdo it. And miraculously, she’ll morph into a more predictable creature at some point after 6 weeks.
Thinking about dinner...I like to think of the breasts like...Side A is dinner...Side B is dessert. Sometimes you want dinner without dessert. Sometimes you want a break before you eat dessert. Sometimes you go straight from dinner to two helpings of chocolate mousse. Whatever happens, it’s normal. You know, just like those nights when you have dinner (great dinner, right?) then have dessert...then want popcorn at the movies...oh, and some nibs, and a big drink. Then the next day you might just want salad. Do you analyze it to death? Do you need to read a book to see if you’re normal? No, it is what it is.
And that’s what life is like with a new baby. If you just roll with it and trust your body and your baby to figure each other out, it will work out fine. If you need a few pep talk phone calls along the way...then you’ll be just like every other mum.
“So, oh...before you go...I have to remind you to...
...lock the door to visitors who just want to hold the baby (and not vacuum)...
...turn all the clocks around, especially at night...
...sing out loud...
...and be easy on yourself...”
- Jacquie Munro Vancouver Doula
If I had a newborn now, I would search for poetry to read aloud during each feeding, to calm us both and feed our souls.
- Jacquie Munro
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
- ee cummings
A woman sings old remembered songs in a shower. The sound of her laughter echoes in the room and blends with the sound of the water.
“Hands!” A woman opens the shower door during a contraction, reaches out and holds onto her husband’s...and my...hands. When the contraction ends, the door closes and her eyes close.
Only a few hours away from birth, a woman takes time between contractions to place tin foil on the sofas and chairs; her power remains.
“I like it here” says a woman as her head burrows into the corner of the car’s backseat.
“Hips!” “Water back!” A woman moves autonomously in labour. She calls to us to take our places during each contraction...at the hips, at the back, and at her hand.
“Happy?” The lips turn into a smile, her eyes crinkle, the water runs over her body.
“Shhhhh” Her eyes gleam as she looks at her newborn, rooting for the breast.
All these snapshots are of women under the influence of the “love hormones” - oxytocin, endorphins and prolactin. As a doula, I continually witness the softness, the power, and the amazing transformational effects of these hormones, which are released when women are undisturbed.
So, with these snapshots of birth "as I witness it" in my head, I watched The Business of Being Born online last night. The enormity of the loss of normal birth, the rising infant mortality rate, and the rise in planned cesareans in the U.S. struck me like never before. Michel Odent’s warning about what we could potentially lose made me dream about births all night.
Are we, as a civilization, beginning to lose what makes us human?
I spent today speaking with clients, and googling more of what Dr. Odent has said on the subject. In the Scientification of Love, Dr. Michel Odent explores this question, looking at love “from a scientific angle, yet with great respect for the beautiful orchestration of normal physiology as it works to its best capacity when it is undisturbed. Love, we learn, is a strategy for human survival.”
As critical as our need is to protect the environment, I think our need to protect the integrity of normal birth may even be more fundamental.
Each of these 6 births has an essence that will remain with me always...
Azure's birth - Shower and more shower. Clary sage really works. Then a "hands off" birth. This wee baby slides out like toothpaste from a tube. Incredible. Mum reaches down to bring her daughter to her breast.
Nora's birth - Kisses on mum's forehead by her love. After a gentle labour, spent mostly in the water...this babe crawls to the breast just like in the WHO video, to the shock of the nurse, and smiles of the mother.
Sean's birth - Intuitive partner by her side, she makes each difficult decision with grace and patience. A challenging birth, but one where the baby's needs were honoured, and the body trusted to tell its own story.
Sasha's birth - A gentle spirit. A flashbulb memory from half way through...she's dancing in a dress from Bali...just beautiful...working to spiral her baby down...down... Her husband smiling, laughing.
Luke's birth - Women's hands anchoring her feet, she leans on the dresser, partner stroking her back...and ohhhh's her way through another contraction. Birth works.
Jessica's birth - Powerful, furious body power! Rocking back and forth, one foot in front of the other - she lives in a whirlwind of creative energy...with the cat reaching out a paw in a gesture of sympathy. The baby curls like a cat on her breast.
“I don’t think I’m in labour yet. I feel it really low down, all in front. It’s not hurting ALL OVER.” said the doctor on the phone.
“ALL OVER?” I asked, sounding like a parrot.
“Yeah.”
“Um...if all is well, it shouldn’t.” I was just a little bit confounded. Here I was, talking on the phone with a physician who’s been attending births for years. She’s amazing with her patients, so intuitive. Now, in labour for the first time, she was just as confused as everyone else in labour.
“Um...” I decided to go over the "what do contractions feel like?" question. “Primarily, it should stay down very low, near the pubic bone, like menstrual cramps, getting gradually longer and stronger over time. It can give you that drag-your-bum-down feeling. You may feel a sensation of heat wash over you, just like you’ve opened a pizza oven. You may feel shivery on and off. You might feel nauseous. You might have it radiate to your lower back. Everyone experiences a variation on the theme. But, you definitely shouldn't have that “grab your tummy and crumple up in agony because it hurts all over pain” as seen on TV. That’s just drama for TV. Real labour is something that you already know on so many levels. And it’s not linear. It doesn’t just get exponentially worse like on TV. It ebbs and flows.”
“Yes, I remember you telling me that. But I didn’t believe you or all the other women. So,” she asked, “when we palpate the contractions of a woman in labour by feeling the top of her uterus, she doesn’t feel any excruiciating pain up there?
“Not in a normal labour. It’s only when there’s something wrong and the body needs to get the message across BIG TIME that you can feel pain in weird places. If everything's fine, you should just feel the contractions way down low...”
“So...uh...what I’ve been feeling all day might just be labour?”
“Probably. The start of labour is something that you will only figure out retrospectively. But, I can hear in your voice that you’re having contractions about every four minutes. You keep fading out. How about if I come over, and we can figure it out together...”
Well, to make a long story short, I went over to find that she WAS in active labour. Her lovely son was born only a few hours later.
Now, I don’t tell this story to poke fun at the doctor, but to show that, no matter who we are, we all have various ideas about how contractions may feel. We've been bombarded by descriptions all our lives. But these descriptions tell us more about the person who is doing the describing than about contractions themselves. Our perceptions are unique. So, whether we’re a family doctor with years of training and experience, or have read every book there is on pregnancy, or have listened closely to all our friends describe their experiences...our personal experience of contractions will be unique.
No matter what, even if this is your first labour, the contractions will be something that you recognize. They may not be what you expected, but they will be something that you "know" on a gut level. Hey, you're not going to get to age 30-something and then have the body throw you a complete curve ball, are you? Trust your body to let you know what it needs. As a doula, my role is to help you navigate your particular labour, no matter who you are, and what kind of labour you are "given". I try to help you shut down your 21st century brain, and accept the logic of the reptile brain.
And, wonderfully, that’s exactly what this doctor had done in her own labour...
I think one of the reasons she had such a smooth labour was because she didn’t NAME it “labour” until her body forced her to acknowledge it. She didn’t watch the clock. She didn’t waste emotional energy on waiting for labour to speed up, or to perform in any particular way. She just let it go, basically ignoring it, just like you would try to ignore cramps during a particularly nasty period. Who cares that she'd done all this because she was expecting something FAR worse than the reality.
I’m actually in awe of her way of getting through labour.
Maybe we should all try it.
Change. Is it always good?
In the next month or so, obstetricians at BC Women's will be changing their provision of care at the hospital. Rather than having three call-groups providing an in-hospital rotating OB consulting service (24 hour call, with each physician or midwife being able to choose one of the three available OBs, if a consultation is warranted, depending on the case at hand), there will be two obstetricians on hand (one primary and one secondary) at all times, each working 12-hour shifts, drawn from the combined pool of obstetricians that used to make up the three OB groups at BC Women's Hospital.
When I heard about the change, I asked if caregivers would have a choice of obstetrician if they required a consult during labour. "No," said the head nurse, with a quizzical look. So, you'll just get who is available, not who might be the best "fit" (clinically and emotionally) for the client on that day. Even if an OB has been consulted during the pregnancy, if a family practitioner or midwife needs OB assistance in labour, they will be not be able to choose between the 2 OB's in hospital, but will only be able to consult the one who is designated for consultations. And remember, there will be one less OB in the hospital at any time. Hmmm...
I know that other hospitals have been using this one-OB-fits-all approach for years (e.g. St. Pauls - but they have a small pool of OBs, and a low-tech high-touch philosophy that seems to work well from the patient's perspective). At first glance, this change at BC Women's might appear to signal a departure from patient-centred care. But, apparently, improving patient safety was the primary motivating factor. So, it may be a good thing in the long run - the 12-hour shifts might result in more energetic OBs providing more focused patient care. But, the shorter work day (an the inability to chose the OB) could result a loss in continuity of care for the labouring woman. Could the positive working relationship between a family physician and a small OB call group be lost in this reorganization, causing further internal conflict? Who knows.
Will notice of this change be given to each woman prior to her decision regarding her primary caregiver for pregnancy, so she can make an informed decision about prenatal care? Now, this is a tricky question. Pre-conception information regarding "the caregiver decision" is already lacking in B.C., with many women making their decisions based on non-B.C. books or the internet. For example, many newly pregnant women don't know that B.C. midwives are covered by BC Medical (practicing in both home and hospital), or that the BC Women's "Birth Docs" are there for women whose family doctors don't provide obstetric care, or that, in B.C. (unlike the U.S.), obstetricians are not intended to be the primary caregivers of "low risk" women, but are consulted after a referral by a family doctor or midwife, if the pregnancy becomes "high risk".
As a doula, part of my role is to inform clients about their choices, their rights and responsibilities, and to help them to retain their autonomy. I'm also there to quietly remind them that birth is a normal life process. I do my best to provide my client with comprehensive information in a balanced and thoughtful manner, working in concert with their caregivers (many of whom I've known for 20 years). I certainly don't have all the answers to the questions that I've posed in this post, but a general wariness of change (I'm a Taurus, through and through) made me sit down to write this. Despite my feeling of unease, I'm going to have to sit on the fence with this one, and wait to see how it all works out.
To the obstetricians, it might look good on paper. But we'll just have to see how it works in reality....for the labouring women.
Last night was a perfect example of a final prep visit...with a bonus. When I walked into their living room I noticed some special items on top of a shelf, obviously placed with care. I could see potted hyacinths, coloured eggs, wheat sprouts, and more. The shining couple explained that it was Persian New Year, and that the altar held seven items that each symbolizes some aspect of rebirth and rejuvenation. I was honoured to be a guest in their home on this special day. It seemed fitting that we were talking about welcoming a new life into their home at the new year. Then, the cat jumped up and tried to eat the sprouts (to the cat it looked just like catnip, I guess...) So, ancient ritual and custom met the quirky reality of the animal world. That's kind of like how labour works...
On this second prenatal visit, always done in a client's home, I see the couple in their comfort zone. I also look for labour inspiration by seeing what's on their bookcase or what holds a place of honour in their home. After tea and a chat, we get active, and do a "birth rehearsal" through the rooms. Stick a glass to the wall and listen to my voice as we roam the house: "Oh! You can totally polish your hardwood floors with lavender wax in the last month - on hands and knees! That might help to keep things loose and, you never know, help to keep the baby in a good position. Oh, and that toilet is positioned perfectly so you can sit backwards on it in labour..." etc. etc... No, I'm not manic, just excited to show people how their body can move them through their own space in labour. It's quite fun for the couple, to see their home from this new perspective.
So, fast forward to later that evening. Here's the scene - I was demonstrating the "shaking the apples" move to them. "You don't just shake the hips, you rub fast, just like you're trying to make fire. You can feel the heat from the friction..." The dad took over and did it perfectly (I say perfectly, because she made little sounds of happiness.) "I'll call it Fire Bum," he says, smiling, and writes it down in a notebook. We all laugh! "Fire Bum!" A new name for this move is born.
We move through the apartment, with her trying out different positions (in this visit, we discover that she can lean on the kitchen counter AND slide her bum against the cool fridge at the same time - what a bonus in labour!)
I demonstrate the different power balance that happens when someone's standing above her, moving to her level, or kneeling at her feet. "Which feels better?" I ask. "Wow...what a difference...when you kneel at my feet it feels so good." She feels the power that will flow into her in labour as her partner holds her, their heads close together.
"But, watch the thumb wiggle," I laugh. I demonstrate and she shudders uncomfortably. "That's no good," she laughs. There is so much meaning in that thumb wiggle... So many times in labours around the world, there's a sweet man who places his hand on the labouring woman's leg (good so far), holds it there, pauses, then...starts to wiggle that thumb (yikes!!!) There's so much good intent in that wiggle - "I love you, I want you to be okay, it will be all right..." - but it just comes across to the woman (just on this one day) as fingernails on a blackboard. It sends the pain signals shimmering, expanding through her body. Yowzaa! A still firm hand, instead, acts like an anchor, sending powerful messages of safety and warmth through her body.
After two hours, all of their questions about the upcoming birth are covered, as well as trust, movement, honouring the body, non-verbal communication, back circles, mesmerizing back strokes (complete with waterfall images), rhythm and ritual (plus logistics - "Yes, you can really call me at any time, day or night!") They are ready.
So, I leave them at the door, a loving couple at the beginning of the New Year, so close to the birth of "a family".
Hot off the press! In the March 2008 issue of Birth, check out the article "The Baby is Breastfeeding - Not the Mother" by Dr. Lennart Righard. The ending sums it up:
"In natural birth the woman is moving around in upright positions trying to find the most comfortable position and turning to herself to find her own inner strength. Such a woman is not so easy to control! She follows her own impulses and intuitions and her own body’s signals. She relies on nature. The same is valid for breastfeeding. The mother does not know how much her baby is eating, she has to rely on nature. This is the secret of success in the triad of reproduction (coitus, giving birth, and feeding from the breast): rely on nature, relax and let go, and you will be amply rewarded."Then, take some time to view the WHO/UNICEF Breast Crawl video. Perhaps we all need reminding that instincts work! - Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula
Renee Hefti-Graham, lactation consultant extraordinaire, is now offering her legendary Breastfeeding Class at Pomegranate ( East Hastings, Vancouver) on Saturdays, starting March 29/08.
I encourage all my pregnant clients to attend Renee's breastfeeding class. She also offers an additional in-home breastfeeding consultation and phone follow-up service, if needed. Renee's comprehensive service provides incredible continuity of care, a vital ingredient in breastfeeding success.
Classes are $40 per couple (you don't have to be a Pomegranate client to attend.) To find out available dates, and to sign up, please call Renee at 604.733.6359. - Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula
("Maternite" by Paul Gauguin)
Love this sign! What a laugh!
But it does make me think about the very real anxiety that surrounds birth...and time.
When I initially ask clients what they wish for, the most common answer is, "A fast birth."
However, after we've been working together for a number of months, most clients realize that each labour takes as long as it needs - no more, no less. Each woman's task in labour is to accept its flow, allowing it to unfold as it should. Time and space start to recede, endorphins increase, tension starts to release, and then labour works well.
To put a time limit on any labour harms its natural rhythm. Birth is a psychosexual process. And, just like lovemaking, it withers when it is pressured by time.
Ultimately, once you understand the nature of birth and its relationship with time, you settle into a pace that fits you and your baby on this particular day. It may be fast. It may be slow. But, it should never be rushed or ruled by the clock.
So, don't be pressured by that sign...
Well, we had an amazing and regenerating time on Maui. There are so many memories that will be treasured. But there's one that seems to sum up the incredible spell and power of Maui...
The other day, we were sitting on the sand at Po'olenalena Beach in Wailea, taking a break from snorkeling and boogie boarding. I looked up and saw a pregnant woman (she looked about 6 or 7 months...must have been having the "last fling" holiday) boldly heading into the surf with her husband, just glowing.
She lined up with the other couples trying out body surfing...waiting for that "just perfect" swell. She went for it on a big wave...and got totally tumbled in the surf. She came up for air, laughing and laughing, then bounded back into the water to wait for the next wave.
It was glorious to see her, tummy shining, fearless.
I sent her a wish that, on the day of labour, she draws on that fearlessness, and leaps into the waves just like she did at Po'olenalena Beach.
So...now the phone can ring again...
All doulas need a break...so I'm off for two weeks to Maui. If you email me looking for a doula, and don't hear from me until mid-March...don't panic!
Just to let you know, I do have openings for due dates in April and beyond.
So, while I'm away, please spend some time reading through my blog. Don't forget the archives. Then give me a call or send me an email after March 10th, and we can chat!
- Jacquie
This evocative Madonna collage will always remind me of the couple (both artists) who recently gave it to me as a gift after their daughter's birth. A treasure. It hangs in my room, and will also remind me of all the births I have attended - the layering of experience, the significance of cherished objects, the importance of history, the value of memories, the power of nature.
I see an old family portrait, a pomegranate, the impermanent dandelions, the water lily, the doll I had as a child, that special bike, that beautiful floor fragment, a cupola with light streaming through to the ground. We each see those things in the collage that hold meaning for us.
Labour is like this. Fragments, layers, images - all confusing, deeply challenging, yet breathtakingly beautiful. Our births are not "the pain." Our births are not physical. Ultimately, they are not of the body, they are of the mind. They are personal, they are dependent upon perception, they are ours. We birth as we live.
Birth is not "paint by numbers." Each birth is like a collage - totally different for each woman, each birth.
Five births since Christmas - each teaching us all new lessons to draw upon. I will look at the collage and name a part for each woman.
- With love and thanks to Tanis and David
www.silentalbum.com
"Komm, wir wollen Apfel schütteln,
Äpfel schütteln;
alle Kinder helfen rütteln.
Ria, ria, ria, rums."
This German children's song would be perfect to sing while shaking a woman's hips with your hands in labour. One of the many indigenous practices used for centuries to loosen the pelvic muscles and ease a baby's journey through the pelvis, "shaking the apples" works really well with first time mums in early labour, as well as multips as they approach birth.
I heard the term "Äpfel schütteln" used by an older German midwife about 15 years ago. We were in the attic of an old Kitsilano house, trying to fix the malposition of a baby late in labour. My client had hit a plateau at 8 cm, and, after a good half hour of vigourous hip shaking by the midwife, the woman said, "Did you hear that thunk?!" Then the labour took off, we all dashed to the hospital, and the baby was born.
I "shake the apples" to help second-time mums release muscles and allow the baby to be born. Sometimes, it just takes a two-minute shake, then she says, "It's coming!" Most times, she's sure the shaking knocked at least half an hour off the labour time.
Think of the speed that a paint can shakes in the machine at the hardware store...or the speed of a woman's hips during a Tahitian dance...
And it feels so good!
"You are a gift to me beloved
trust my body
trust my baby
breathe..."
Last night, friends and family painted the labyrinth in the living room of a woman in early labour, hoping that she would have a chance to walk the labyrinth as the labour progressed. But her labour skyrocketed and her baby was born sweetly before the paint had time to fully dry!
But I think she had been metaphorically "walking the labyrinth" for a long time and was fully ready. There were no blocks. She trusted her body, trusted her baby, and held firm and fast to her husband, whose hands held the baby's head as it slid out into the flickering light of a candle.
With a labyrinth there is only one choice to be made. The choice is to enter or not. With the smooth and quick birth of this beautiful boy, the choice was made. What a joyful entry to the world.
As part of their Breastfeeding Counsellor's course, Sarah Munro and Ann Marcoux created a podcast of breastfeeding tips and tricks for men. They interviewed three local dads and let them do the talking. So, click and listen to Breastfeeding Tips for Dads.
And...
Geared to all dads, whether they're at home or not, Man in the Moon dad and baby groups in Vancouver offer support and fun with books for dads and their babies on evenings and weekends. Offered at most Vancouver libraries, these groups start their next session mid-January 2008. Check your local library for details.
As a doula, I am invited into the homes of so many wonderful and creative people. This past year's client list has included an amazing collection of writers, artists, counsellors, dancers, environmental crusaders, yoga instructors, entrepreneurs (and lots of lawyers.)
I love watching my clients' postpartum transformations, as they find ways to reconcile mothering with their "pre-baby" careers. Many former clients become consultants or start new businesses, and others strike out in entirely new directions. I support and applaud their efforts to find balance in their lives.
One such former client is Carly Fleming. She has recently branched out on a career path that I believe will fill a gap in perinatal services in Vancouver. I encourage you to call her if you feel in need of expert counselling assistance during the childbearing year - and beyond.
Carly provides pre-conception, prenatal, and postpartum counselling to women and men who need some additional support as they travel through their childbearing journey. Her services are aimed at individuals who are having difficulties coping or adjusting to pregnancy and parenthood or who are experiencing emotions that are preventing them from moving forward in a productive and fulfilled way.
She offers clients the choice of having her come to their home to conduct the counselling session or meeting with them in a private counselling office (locations are Kits and downtown).
Keep her contact info handy:
Carly Fleming, M.Ed., RCC
Prenatal and Postpartum Counselling
604-808-9587
carly.fleming@gmail.com
www.carlyfleming.ca
I just stood there in Pottery Barn the other week, in front of a phone that looked just like the lovely heavy black phone that we had when I was little. You know, the one with the rotary dial that, when you needed to dial 9-1-1, took such a long time for that 9 to rotate. No wonder they didn't stick with the British emergency code of 9-9-9. The emergency would have been over before the dialing was done.
So, still standing there, lost in space and time, I started to think about my low-tech childhood in the '60s and '70s, how I skipped to Kerrisdale school in my skirt and walked through old door marked "Girls", and how my parents decided that it was totally unnecessary to have all the new high-tech things that were in the stores - how we shared a party line, had no answering machine, no voicemail, no calculators, no computers, no videos or DVDs, no recording devices, dishwasher or washer/dryer. We just had one little black and white TV with rabbit ears, a clothes line, and a hand cranked mangle to make life easier. (I laughed when I heard the editor of Canadian House and Home say just last week that her laundry room would not be complete without her most luxurious appliance - the mangle. Well, this one's electric, and it presses sheets, but hey...) It was truly an "Old School" childhood, and time was our ally.
So, I really noticed those multi-coloured cut-out letters stuck on the window at BC Women's Hospital the other day - "I DO IT OLD SCHOOL - ASK ME HOW". I kept thinking about those words as I helped a client through an almost 48-hour unmedicated, uncomplicated birth. After 31 hours at home, we went to the hospital to birth "old school" style. The tools at hand were our hands and eyes and ears and wisdom (other than my client and her husband, "We" also included nurse "Wendy" aka Michelle, and the Family Practice Group 2 docs Ron and Sheena, who all have the guts to go "old school"). Time, on this day, was our ally, for we needed a lot of it to accomplish the goal. The high-tech equipment didn't seem to know how to behave with us. The blood pressure cuff kept pumping itself up even when no one was there, and that brand-fangled-new monitor didn't work as well as the doptone, so it was turned off.
So, things were kept as simple as possible. On and on...dancing in the shower, rockin' an rollin' on the ball, just one contraction at a time, one breath at a time, listening to lovely music. To get rid of a puffy cervix at 9cm, we used the Trendelenburg position on the bed (no epidural necessary) and lots of encouragement. We used hip squeezes, hip shakes, swirling and spiralling hips, visualization, trance-inducing techniques, foot rubs, endorphin sleep and dreams, squatting, kneeling, walking, tears, hands, eyes, and love....liberally. And this amazing labouring woman drew on the strength of all her life, with the aid of a few sherpas, and did what all women have the power to do, climb the highest mountain ever - birthed her baby with arms outstretched to touch his body.
And when that baby came, it was pure joy. No exhaustion, just sparkling laughter and smiles and "I'm as high as a kite!" (love those endorphins) and an eager, wide-awake little boy who came out with his meaty fist stretched to the sky. Ahaa! The culprit - just one little hand had slowed things down. We knew it! But, with time, this little man and his mum had worked it out.
When the pediatrician came later to say "Hi", she actually bowed down before the woman, saying "I am not worthy." And the doctors agreed that, if any drugs had been used, it probably would have been a cesarean. And the nurses outside were in awe, knowing that there's an initiative in the hospital to reduce the intervention and cesarean rates by encouraging low tech/high touch birthing, and wishing that they could have seen how it was done.
I am in awe of the couple at the centre of the whirlwind, this vortex of birth. I thank them for trusting in birth, for trusting in the body, for trusting their baby, for trusting me to calm their spirit and their wild eyes, when I'd say, "It's fine, it's normal, you are safe, you can do it," or "She's safe, she has the strength to do this."
On this day, I think all three crossed the portal, the old school way.
- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula
