by Dawn
Kersula, MA, RN, IBCLC, LCCE, FACCE

The day I
became a mother, my life changed forever.
Now, that is the most ridiculous sentence to start with. But
it is also most profound. Because, if we are lucky, the births of
our babies can give us great gifts, as we learn truths about
ourselves.
I started teaching Lamaze classes in 1986. I had what I felt
was a simple goal for my classes. Instead of telling horror
stories about birth, women who took my classes would tell stories
of triumph. They would be the heroines of their own birthing
stories.
Well, here it is 20 years later. And guess what - word on the
street is that birth is - well - let me tell you about MY
birth...!
Let me tell you about birth.
Today, I still think we are heroines of our own birth stories.
We're not used to sharing the emotions around an experience as
momentous - and as non-verbal - as birth. I think of the moment
when I realized I was deeply in love with David. If you ask me,
"What is it like, falling in love?" I'm not likely to give you a
good answer. A very old part of my brain is engaged, what is
sometimes called the old brain, very deep inside. I remember what
David smelled like, what his touch was like, the whiteness of the
flowers in the apple orchard and the warmth of the sun as we
smooched. One day I saw a guy walking down the street and though,
"Wowie zowie" - and then realized it was David walking down the
street.
When qualitative studies are done about birth, these are the
same sorts of memories that moms talk about. In fact, if I walk
into your room just after you have a baby, you may tell me some
of these incredible memories. I can't sleep, I just hear that
monitor beeping....The picture said Monet, I don't know what it
was a picture of...The instruments were so cold and it was cold
in the room...The doctor and the nurse, I can seem them
whispering in the corner.
To bring our memories up from the old brain - literally, to
get them into our gray matter in the cerebral cortex! - we need
to begin to make our memories into a story. We need to have a
beginning, a middle and an end. We need to figure out how we
triumphed.
Giving voice to our birth experiences
I know these things on a very personal level. I pushed for
over four hours with my first baby. I remember the whispering and
the coldness. I also remember giving my husband's friend a
blow-by-blow description - at the library! - when he asked, "So
how was the birth?" And I remember thinking, this is not
appropriate.
Most women come to that point pretty quickly after their
births. For many of us, it means we are able to make a narrative,
to make sense of our births. But a good number of us work longer
and harder. Some of us actually have a touch - or a lot - of
post-traumatic stress symptoms after our births. That may include
feeling detached from our babies and our lives; intrusive
thoughts ("I keep hearing that monitor with the heartrate going
down"); feelings of panic, including a racing pulse or shortness
of breath; re-running the tape of things that we saw or smelled
or felt. And needing to tell our stories over and over again,
trying to make sense of what happened. (Cheryl Tatano Beck RN,
PhD has done wonderful work on this subject. Other good reading
comes from Lois Freeman in her book Birth as a Healing
Experience: The Emotional Journey of Pregnancy through
Postpartum, and Lynn Madsen's Rebounding from Childbirth: Toward
Emotional Recovery.)
Who speaks for birthing women?
My masters project looked at the experiences of six birthing
women, whose "babies" ranged from six weeks to 25 years of age. I
would say that these women got skilled, compassionate care. Yet
they were still suffering from varying amounts of PTSD symptoms.
We are blessed in our Parent Express circulation area, that we
are likely to find that good care. But there are women around the
world who are not treated well during their births, who are just
one more body on the birth assembly line, whose needs and cares
and fears are discounted or even laughed over. Who will tell
their stories?
I'd like to invite you to join us as we celebrate birth and
all our strengths and stories at BIRTH: THE PLAY. We are bringing
BIRTH to Brattleboro as a part of the BOLD (Birth Over Labor Day)
Project, a nationwide coming-together to celebrate and to examine
the paradigms we live with around this incredible event in the
lives of mothers. Karen Brody, a doula who began interviewing
mothers in hopes of writing a book, has instead given us an
incredible way to experience again the emotions of birth, to be
invigorated and enraged and emboldened by our births, and to
declare our oneness with all birthing women around the world.
Directed by Amy Majer, a nurse and hypnobirthing instructor at
BMH, BIRTH tells the birthing stories of seven women. We learn of
their hopes, their fears, their approaches to the births of their
babies, and how they grow and change through their journeys.
Join us at the New England Youth Theatre in the Latchis
Complex, in Brattleboro, VT on Friday & Saturday, September 1 &
2, at 730 PM. Tickets are $12/$8 students and seniors. This play
is intense, and because of that intensity and its themes, not
suitable for children or toddlers. (Babies are however welcome.)
Proceeds will benefit the Volunteer Doula Network and perinatal
programs at BMH. Advance tickets are available through 5 PM
Friday at Sprout on Elliot Street.
Dawn Kersula MA, RN, IBCLC, LCCE,
FACCE
And doula facilitator for our New Moms Network at Brattleboro
Memorial Hospital in Brattleboro, VT
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