I’m a Goddess. A hypnobirthing Goddess!
I birth beautifully, calmly and serenely. And did I mention? It’s because I’m a hypnobirthing goddess. I love Hypnobirthing & genuinely fear for people who don’t do a course. But after I give birth? That postnatal stage?
That’s where it all goes a bit adrift. Because no matter how beautifully I’ve prepared for birth, nothing could prepare me for life after birth. (BTW following similar feed back from my amazing hypnobirthing class clients I now offer Mindful Breastfeeding classes which help bridge that gap)
My baby sleeps
But then that’s the rumour isn’t it? That Hypnobirthing babies sleep. The theory is that the more relaxed & natural the birth, the more relaxed the baby. And my little hypnobaby’s natural hypnobirth was certainly relaxed. Don’t get me wrong, baby does not sleep through the night. He’s not supposed to. He’s supposed to wake up for a feed. His stomach is tiny after all. But he wakes just once (occasionally twice) and that’s it, back to sleep. Of course I’m still tired. We still get all the post feed burping, nappy changing, fun & games and I could still benefit from more sleep but I am enjoying hypnobaby heaven.
It’s the damnedest thing. People’s faces as I sit down. “Ooh, are you sore…(then whispering)…down there?”. No, not at all, I’m fine. I do Hypnobirthing so why would there be a problem? Why would there be perennial tearing? When you focus on what you want to achieve, rather than what you fear, you are far more likely to achieve your goals. When you relax during birth, your body does just what it’s designed to do, beautifully, like it does for all the other incredible birthing mammals on the planet. And why would I not practice all the hints & tips I share with my lovely Hypnobirthing mummies?
However, according to the fabulous Tamsyn, owner of South Oxfordshire’s Espina Chiropractic, Hypnobirthing hasn’t stopped my hips from getting a shunting so whilst my ligaments are still in the last throws of ‘pregnant’ mode, I get the pleasure of two gloriously numb butt cheeks.
Elvis was an accident
Oh come on, my new baby was not an accident! What I mean is Elvis’s name was an accident. It was just a flippant comment made by my husband whilst in hospital. “Guess who baby shares his birthday with?” And his fatal mistake? He left me and went to fetch our other children. For the next two hours I called our baby ‘Elvis’ and by the time he returned it had stuck. Writing this, I’ve just realised my poor baby has a name ending in S. I’m going to have to learn how to deal with those pesky plurals. I’ll ask my other son. He’s 8. He’ll know.
I don’t do baby blue
I did, at first, with my first son. But got inundated with it, gifts and hand me downs, and I rapidly developed a painful reflux response. I started buying my boy token pink things, just to ‘shake it up’ a little. Not pale pink of course, my aversion spread to that as well. I’d dress him in bright pink, orange, navy, green, red, yellow, anything that didn’t make my eyes bleed – like baby blue or pale pink.
I wish the school run could end
The weather warnings have been coming and I’ve been hoping. I know snow causes trouble for so many, but for me it means the outside chance that the school will close for a day…or two. That means no school run. Not that I am doing the school run, my husband is, but I still somehow get embroiled in the trauma of dressing, feeding, packing off etc. The fact that a snow day would leave me with 2 children and a newborn at home, all day, seems to be lost on me. It’s just that school run…I can do anything but that.
I’m turning into a Werewolf
As soon as the evening darkness draws in, my claws come out, I bare my fangs and boy, do I growl. My patience, my kindness, my nurturing & mothering instincts hit automatic shut down and a bitch rolls into town. It’s a combination of tiredness & that primitive mind that’s all too eager to focus on the negatives. And so the stress levels ramp right up and I start to howl. Put simply, I just can’t do evenings. So please, protect yourself and stay away after dark.
I’ve banned the H word…and its not hypnobirthing!
This week I made the controversial decision to boycott Homework. Of course, if the children wanted to do it, I wouldn’t stop them and in fact my son made just that judgement call. Bless him. In these first few days of exhaustion and bewilderment it was a simple choice between spending my limited energy on ensuring my children eat or focusing on homework. And so hopefully keeping the werewolf at bay for a few more minutes. We’ll start up again on Monday. I’ll be back into logical, hypnotherapist mode and what we focus on, those small positive, forward focused, dopamine boosting steps, we will achieve (at a slow pace).