It’s a message passed on to us from a young age – pregnancy is arduous, childbirth is painful, breastfeeding is toe-curlingly uncomfortable and those first weeks of parenthood known colloquially as ‘The Fourth Trimester’ are the toughest you’ll face. The message becomes the opinion, even before we’ve experienced it for ourselves, and the result is trepidation or worse, total abstinence. Fear feeds pain, meaning those hand-me-down tales of woe have the power to shape our own experiences – which is a little unfair, don’t you think?
Stop. Rewind. Flip the script.
Wouldn’t it be better to approach the journey to motherhood with optimism – or at least an open mind? This is, after all, a milestone in your adult life. Your body is capable of growing new life and delivering it safely to the world. You’re about to meet a tiny human who will teach you a whole new meaning of what it is to love and be loved. And the experience, though challenging, will be your greatest achievement yet.
Let me tell a brighter story.
I loved being pregnant and had a wonderful birth. My little boy arrived just seven weeks ago, so I can’t even float the idea that time has erased any trauma – there really wasn’t any! I was lucky that I didn’t face any complications – let’s not ignore that some births can be tricky – but I entered my labour day armed with the tools I felt would help me whichever direction it took.
I hope that my story will close your ears to the negatives and help you find your way to the birth you wish for.
I hope that my story will close your ears to the negatives and help you find your way to the birth you wish for.
Like any new mum-to-be, once the initial elation of discovering I was pregnant ebbed slightly and the realisation hit that the little life growing inside me would one day be much larger and eager to get out, I pulled up at the ‘what if?’ and ‘how can I do this?’ hurdles. I was terrified – it’s a daunting prospect! Add to this an innate fear of hospitals, I knew I needed to find a way to put my mind at ease to save me from nine months of worry.
I’d heard of hypnobirthing before I even fell pregnant, and reading a little deeper into the theory and its efficacy made me decide early on that this was the route my birth preparations would take. Seeing that my chosen hospital supported the practice provided further reassurance – it wasn’t some hippy mumbo jumbo.
I found an approved instructor teaching the Wise Hippo hypnobirthing programme in our local area, and booked Mr R (my husband) and I on to a course to begin when we would be 30 weeks pregnant.
What is hypnobirthing?
Essentially, it’s a means of lulling yourself into deep relaxation and keeping you in a state of self hypnosis – no pocket watch wafting or finger clicking required.
At our first session, the group was asked to write down words we associated with childbirth at that point. ‘Pain’ featured on each person’s list.
At the end of the course we were asked to do the same, and that particular word had vanished. We all had new expectations, having learnt to ‘switch off’ the conscious mind and allow the subconscious to be open to the suggestion that birth can be a positive experience.
We were also taught how the skills we’d acquired could be applied to a birth that takes a direction we hadn’t planned or wanted – an induction or C-section, for example. Keeping calm, whatever the circumstance, has its benefits.
We were also taught how the skills we’d acquired could be applied to a birth that takes a direction we hadn’t planned or wanted – an induction or C-section, for example. Keeping calm, whatever the circumstance, has its benefits.
So how were we able to alter our perceptions in just four weeks? Hearing insightful explanations of how the female body is designed to carry and deliver a baby, watching videos of hypnobirthing in practice, perfecting breathing techniques, and regularly listening to a series of relaxation tracks as a sort of dress rehearsal for the big event.
The language used is different to conventional antenatal teaching, too. Contractions are known as ‘surges’, simply because the word has a gentler sound, and you’re taught to ‘hum’ rather than push your baby out, the emphasis being on listening to your body and going with the flow.
It sounds so simple, but it worked.
My labour day
The surges began at 3am – intermittent dull aches akin to period pain, but nothing so bad I couldn’t doze off between them. I wasn’t certain this was labour to begin with, following over a week of Braxton Hicks, but by 6.30am the surges were coming more frequently. Mr R didn’t go into work, even though we knew things were likely to progress slowly.
The homework for week one of our hypnobirthing course had been to design our perfect labour day, so we set about it as planned. Breakfast, a burst of fresh air while walking our dog Harper, then lunch at the local pub. That’s right, I went for a burger while in labour (and of course a surge came just as the waiter brought out our order). Well a girl’s got to eat! Especially when in labour – it can be a long slog to the finish line. You should have seen the feast we took to hospital with us; Mr R had cleared the shelves at our local M&S and dutifully fed me nibbles – or at least he attempted to (a fajita wrap isn’t really what I fancied at 8cm dilated). But I'm jumping ahead…
The homework for week one of our hypnobirthing course had been to design our perfect labour day, so we set about it as planned. Breakfast, a burst of fresh air while walking our dog Harper, then lunch at the local pub. That’s right, I went for a burger while in labour (and of course a surge came just as the waiter brought out our order). Well a girl’s got to eat! Especially when in labour – it can be a long slog to the finish line. You should have seen the feast we took to hospital with us; Mr R had cleared the shelves at our local M&S and dutifully fed me nibbles – or at least he attempted to (a fajita wrap isn’t really what I fancied at 8cm dilated). But I'm jumping ahead…
An afternoon on all fours in front of the TV while watching The Notebook followed, then it was on with the hypnobirthing tracks as I closed my eyes and drifted off to my relaxing place, Mr R and my TENS machine working their magic massaging my lower back.
By 5pm the surges were coming thick and fast – I envisaged them as crashing waves that calmed to a millpond sea. I still felt at ease and excitement was building that soon our baby would be here. But I was so focused on my breathing and counting those waves that the notion of birthing him hadn’t even entered my head, even at this stage – it all seemed surreal!
By 5pm the surges were coming thick and fast – I envisaged them as crashing waves that calmed to a millpond sea. I still felt at ease and excitement was building that soon our baby would be here. But I was so focused on my breathing and counting those waves that the notion of birthing him hadn’t even entered my head, even at this stage – it all seemed surreal!
The car was so full of ‘essentials’ we looked like we were going away for a fortnight – birthing ball, pillows, that M&S cool bag brimming with food, bags of clothes for all three of us… But the things I was truly glad of were a cushion to sit on, my relaxing music playlist and Mr R’s reassuring hand on my knee.
I confess, it’s all a bit of a blur from hereon in. My mind was elsewhere throughout the final stages of labour, but I’m told I was smiling and even managed a little conversation at times (though goodness knows what I was saying).
We were checked into the midwife-led unit at around 7.30pm, I got into the birthing pool an hour or so later, and just two hours after that Teddy Howard Ranson gushed into the world in one fell swoop! I remember thinking,‘Well that’s the head out,’ but the midwives were telling me to catch my baby – he was here, all 8lb 1oz of him! I’d done it – and I’d do it again…
A calm birth and beyond
Seven weeks on and our hypno-water baby is thriving. I believe those methods of calm that proved so useful in labour are still playing a part in aiding the transition from being just Mr R and me to a family of three (plus Harper). Like birth, learning to be a parent is proving to be the most rewarding challenge. More on that to follow…
Seven weeks on and our hypno-water baby is thriving. I believe those methods of calm that proved so useful in labour are still playing a part in aiding the transition from being just Mr R and me to a family of three (plus Harper). Like birth, learning to be a parent is proving to be the most rewarding challenge. More on that to follow…
