You're not living in reality

As if holding my breath and making a wish that was never mine to have, I lay on the bleach white hospital sheets, hurting. Little pieces of me falling to the side of a vacuous grey birthing pool. I grip onto my boyfriend's - soon to be father’s - hand as he says, “You can do this. This is what you always dreamed of…" which I hear as a question. As if motherhood was something I always wanted. It is what every girl wants, apparently.

The hum and whirr of thoughts you’re not supposed to have during pregnancy and birth - I don't want this - paralyse me, and I get trapped in a painful wave. Decades of being someone else flood the inside of my cells as they permanently shrivel up, one by one, each version of me shrinking and then, poof, it's gone. Pieces of dried blood clumped together, and the surprising pain of the contraction that wasn’t coming from anything physical but rather what my life would look like now. Another rendering of myself pushing a Bugaboo, white teeth smiling. The room starts to swell with hot loneliness, even with my boyfriend, and soon to be son encircling the room.

Suddenly there were five or six doctors and midwives standing around me. Puddles of sweat dripping off my face, until a doctor with dark eyes blurs into vision, “Listen to me…..if this takes any longer the baby will not make it, we need to get him out quickly.”

The doctor explains in his distant medical language the umbilical cord is wrapped around his neck so they have to cut me open. I instantly imagine every piece of tissue in my body falling onto the sheets staining them dark purple. A stream of blood spills out of my body. I start to pass out while the doctor rushes the baby out of me. The room falls silent, I can't hear him crying.

I start to regret every second of my pregnant life, undeveloped organs and dreams not yet lived. Strangers telling me how beautiful it is to be a mother, even though I felt it wasn't.

I dream of a parallel world where my boyfriend is smiling at me, holding my baby after a normal birth, saying “Look at his eyes, they're just like yours.” Shame dampening me like water on sand, I should have been happy to have a healthy big belly, I should have cared more, I should have appreciated my body for its abilities to grow another human, I should have wanted all of this.

The doctor walks into the room and picks up his clipboard. I try to ask, “is…. he……..?” All of these shoulds swarming my nest, the years of hating this part of womanhood stings, and I feel I have never wanted anything more than to be his mother.

The doctor says, “Your son is going to be okay."

Those stories of what mothers should be drop into a pool of tears, and this little face stares up at me, sticking his tongue out, already needing me. Not even giving me a second to breathe, but also allowing me to breathe for the first time.

A whole new world lay flat, wide and hard in front of us. I let go of the warped, externally formed versions of motherhood and step into something else.

This transformation led me to where I am today.

💡 After my son was born, although I had an epiphany on motherhood right then and there, it was still something I had to work on every single day afterwards. I continued to struggle with the idea of motherhood and what it means in today's world; who I was supposed to be and how I could find a balance of who I was and who I am now. It took a long time. There is no quick fix.

There isn't a quick fix to wellbeing either. But what did help me was little by little testing different methods (breathwork, yoga and meditation) to see what I could stick with the longest.

The first thing I tried after having my son was born and I noticed a surprising dip in my so-called "happy hormones" (serotonin), was yoga. Specifically, I did Yoga with Adrienne because it was gentle and easy to get into. In my experience with any wellbeing habit, and especially something like yoga, you should start slow and gentle and build your way up. You have to remember, you have so many years to become an expert, or to do the really tough practice that makes you ache, today is about the present and what you can do now.

I went to a yoga class last weekend and while we were in downward dog (or Adho Mukha Shvanasana) the yoga teacher said this 👇🏼 and a little shiver went down my spine. It is about life.

Here are a few yoga practices I have done that helped me start doing yoga more habitually.

Now every time I feel stressed, overwhelmed or tired I will turn on a yoga session on YouTube. Almost every single time after the session I feel better. I would also recommend going to yoga in person because it is a whole different experience, you can really feel into it more.

This session usually always makes me feel better afterwards:

If you're feeling more ambitious, this 30 day practice helped me get into a habit:

If you want a yoga session that is more advanced and makes you sweat a bit I really enjoyed this session:

Sending you all love,

Meagan