Finding yourself in motherhood is hard enough without birth trauma. This work is for motherhood on hard mode.
The seasons raised me too
I grew up on a farm in rural British Columbia, built into the side of a mountain, an only child with a lot of horses and a lot of sky. The seasons set the pace for everything: how we worked, how we rested, what the land needed from us.
I’ve always been attuned to the world around me, and I still use it as a mirror. When I can’t make sense of what’s happening inside me, I look at what’s happening outside. What’s growing, what’s dying back, what’s waiting under the snow.
What I didn’t inherit was any language for birth. My mother didn’t talk about it, and the mothers who came before her didn’t pass down stories I could lean on.
And then I got humbled
By the time I was pregnant, I was very sure of myself. I planned a home birth from my crunchy morals. I knew I didn’t want an over-medicalized, patriarchy-shaped birth, and to be totally honest, I was pretty black and white about it. A little holier than thou, even.
In December 2020, I became a mother in an operating room. My baby and I were medically okay, and I’m so grateful for that. At my six-week follow-up, my OB complimented himself on the incision. That was the appointment.
Understanding what happened and making meaning of what happened to me were two very different things.
Trauma treatment and somatic therapy for my c-section did something I didn’t expect. I feel more spiritually connected now than I ever did back when I was so sure I had it all figured out.
Things I’ll say at any dinner party
A cesarean is a natural birth, because it exists.
The birth hierarchy causes so much shame, and it was never yours to carry.
A lot of modern birth practices, without the nuance, can do real harm when the goal is a pain-free, unmedicated birth.
And I believe in clinical care, evidence-based trauma therapy and working within my scope, with room for meaning, ritual and the whole of who you are. You don’t have to believe what I believe. You don’t have to leave any part of yourself at the door. Neither do I.
Little true things
- I’m new to Ashtanga, and very humbled by it.
- I’ve been meditating for over a year now. It took two years of trial and error to get here.
- I believe magic is real.
- I always have three drinks on the go: something warm (tea or coffee), a sparkling water, and something hydrating.
- Fantasy and sci-fi, forever.
- I’ve fallen in love with aimless wandering.
- I’m reconnecting with my ancestral roots and Celtic practices, and working through the layers of shame and grief that come with being a settler whose ancestors colonized Canada.