The womb - is she calling you?

Probably because I have written a book about fertility, pregnancy and birth, I am often asked for insight into what might help women with their menstrual or fertility issues, or how to heal after suffering a miscarriage.

I’m certainly no expert, and while I am keen to share all I have learned, I am very aware that this is a result of listening to my body wisdom and honouring that inner guidance, and this may very well not work for other women who have their own body wisdom.

Plus, I am also very aware that menstrual and fertility issues, and the quest to conceive and give birth to new life, is a huge journey for us and often one of awakening, so there will be our own unique lessons to learn in the process.

Still, regardless of all our uniqueness, there is one commonality - something that I am keen to share with women, and it is this…honour your womb.

It wasn’t until I undertook our first round of IVF that I became aware of the significance of the womb in terms of growing new life and the need for this to be a super cosy and nourishing environment for a baby to grow.

I ended up with placenta previa during that first pregnancy, which means that the placenta (an organ attached to the lining of the womb, which keeps your unborn baby’s blood supply separate from your own and is connected to the baby by the umbilical cord) was totally covering the cervix (the narrow-neck like passage forming the lower end of the womb), which meant that I wouldn’t be able to birth vaginally.

I was very angry about this both during the pregnancy and beyond and it wasn’t until I met the wonderful Jo de Diepold Braham, that I realised the extent of the resentment that I was still carrying in my womb (let alone the scarring from the Caesarean Section) eighteen-months after the birth.

I’d gone to see Jo, an osteopath, to have my neck sorted, and instead ended up with her guiding me into my womb, which was dark and murky and most definitely not in a good state.  Given that E and I were thinking of going through another round of IVF, I had a sense that I needed to do some significant healing here.

I started seeing Jo regularly for Ki massage.  Jo is the most intuitive healer that I have had the pleasure to meet, and the way she works, by taking you into your body and helping to shift energy, resonates massively with my approach to healing. You can find Jo at the Natural Health Clinic twice a month in Guernsey and I strongly recommend you see her if you need any healing womb or otherwise.

Into my life at this time also arrived the wonderful Dr Uma Dinsmore-Tuli with her incredible book Yoni Shakti: A Woman’s Guide to Power and Freedom Through Yoga and Tantra, which all yoginis should have beside their mats. Also the inspiring Dr Christiane Northrup and her marvellous book Women’s Bodies, Women’s Wisdom, which should be a reference book for all women at all stages of life.  A little later in came Lisa Lister too with Code Red, which absolutely every menstruating lady should be referring to for monthly menstrual insights.  

There was this whole new world that opened up to me and I started to see the womb in a whole different perspective.

The womb

The womb, or uterus as it is formally called, is a hollow muscular organ of the female reproductive system that is responsible for the development of the embryo and foetus during pregnancy.  It is approximately the shape and size of a pear and sits in an inverted position within the pelvis. 

An incredible distensible organ, the womb can expand during pregnancy from the size of a closed fist to become large enough to hold a full term baby. It is also incredibly strong, able to contract forcefully to propel a full term baby out of the body during childbirth. 

However, the womb is so much more than this!

It is also the seat of our creativity, not least in creating new life, but in helping us to create the life of our dreams, and connects us to our deepest knowing.

As Uma writes: “The very term yoni sakti locates the place of power [sakti] in our own bodies, in our yoni, a term that means both cunt or vulva, and womb or source. Yoni also means home, or place of rest. It is in and through the yoni that we encounter our connection to deeper knowledge, or blood wisdom. The term blood wisdom conveys a sense of the profound experience of ‘knowing already’, or recognising, sometimes not always so clearly, that this deep wisdom is present as a spirituality in our lifeblood. The understanding of blood wisdom is that in our very cells, in our wombs, this knowing has never really been absent, and all that has been denied is access to the living consciousness of the true wealth that this wisdom brings, not just for women but for the whole planet.  She is a deep and tender inner teacher. What she teaches is freedom.”

Certainly since honouring my womb with the greatest reverence for all she knows, and all she can reveal, my life has changed significantly. I started writing again, a passion which had lay dormant for many years, and I haven’t really stopped since, even managing to write a book (which you can purchase here).  I have also felt an incredible sense of freedom and have had a greater connection to my own wisdom and all that this needs to reveal. Of course there is always work to be done, but connecting with my womb has made a huge difference.

This is the reason, that when women are experiencing some issues with the womb space, in whatever way that may be, I am always keen to encourage them to begin their work here.

As Dr Northrup writes: “The uterus is related energetically to a woman’s innermost sense of self and her inner world. It is symbolic of her dreams and the selves to which she would like to give birth. Its state of health reflects her inner emotional reality and her belief in herself at the deepest level. The health of the uterus is at risk if a woman doesn’t believe in herself, is excessively self-critical or is putting too much of her energy into a dead-end job or relationship”.

So perhaps there is some change that occurs when we begin working with the womb, and perhaps this is confronting at times, but also a necessity.

As Dr Northrup further writes: “The health of the pelvic organs (ovaries, tubes and womb) depends upon a woman feeling able, competent, or powerful to create financial and emotional abundance and stability, and to express her creativity fully. She must be able to feel good about herself and about her relationships with other people in her life. Relationships that she finds stressful and limiting, and which she feels she has no control over, on the other hand, may adversely affect her internal pelvic organs. Thus, if a woman stays in an unhealthy relationship because she feels she cannot support herself economically, or emotionally, her internal pelvic organs may be at increased risk of disease”.

This is supported by Bri Maya Tiwari who writes in her wonderful book The Path of Practice: A Woman’s Book of Ayurvedic Healing: “Our Shakti-prana [the primordial feminine energies within) circulates through and around the womb, a woman’s area of greatest vulnerability…Too often, we do not recognise the sanctity of the womb, and the sacred prana that governs it. Herein lies the paradox of the Shakti-prana: this profound source of feminine power also makes us extremely susceptible to disease.  When you care for your womb, and thus honour your Shakti-prana, you heal your feminine life force and protect yourself from illness.”

Thus it is imperative that we do the work to heal the womb. We must celebrate her and all she can reveal to us. How do we do this? Well here are the ways that help me:

Womb yoga

In theory, all yoga should help us to heal and connect more fully with our body wisdom and increase our sense of wellbeing in the process, but womb yoga offers so much more than this. In practicing with deep reverence for the womb and womb space, and working with Shakti (the spirit of our primordial feminine energies within) and Shakti-prana (the body’s inherent life-force), we can effect significant transformation.

As Uma writes: “By greeting the womb with love we not only reconnect to the Sakti or life power in the womb or womb space, but also receive the loving energies of the heart by bringing them into conscious connection with the nourishment potential of the the womb space energies”.

There is a free yoni yoga video on our YouTube channel here, that focuses on bringing awareness and love into the womb space. You might also benefit from the free fertility video here and/or the free video for menstruation here. 

It could also be beneficial to you to join our Sunday morning yoga class (click here for our class timetable), which while not gender specific, does tend to attract just women and many of the practices are based around the heart and womb. You could also join one of our Yoni Yoga sessions that take place from time to time.

I would also highly recommend investing in Uma’s book, Yoni Shakti: A Woman’s Guide to Power and Freedom Through Yoga and Tantra, which you can purchase from Amazon here.  Please don’t be intimidated by the book – it is huge, but just follow the practices that are relevant to you at any stage on your cycle/life.

Yoga Nidra

I am a huge fan of Yoga Nidra.  It has supported me so much the last few years particularly.  I regularly practice Yoga Nidra as it helps me to rest and rejuvenate and can be incredibly healing too.

You can access our free Yoga Nidra for menstrual healing here.  You’ll find other Yoga Nidras on my website too. Otherwise I can highly recommend using the free ones that are available courtesy of Uma and her husband on the Yoga Nidra network at www.yoganidranetwork.org. I use these regularly – they were hugely supportive before, during and after the IVF process and for healing my womb post-natal too. I also accredit Yoga Nidra for helping to regulate my periods.

Ayurveda

I am a huge fan of Ayurveda because it is ancient, it works and it has roots in the Vedas like yoga! 

Ayurveda is the oldest authentically recorded health system in history, over 5,000 years old. It was created by yogis who spent their lives studying nature and the human condition.  

Meaning “the science of life” it is exactly that, viewing health in four dimensions of physical, sensory, mental and spiritual and is centred on preventative medicine and bringing a person back to balance.  It shows how an imbalance in one part of a person’s being will affect them in another, i.e. if a person isn’t being true to their life path (dharma) then physical and mental illnesses can arise which cannot be effectively treated with modern medicines but can be helped by Ayurveda.

Ayurveda has helped me lots in my life, not least to heal ovarian cysts and eliminate PMS, but also to support the IVF process (it is perhaps not surprising that I didn’t follow any Ayurvedic principles nor take any herbs prior to the failed IVF cycle, as I had done before the two successful cycles). Read more about this by reading my book Dancing with the Moon.

I follow Ayurvedic principles when I can and notice when I veer away, as I end up feeling depleted and out of balance. It really is amazing and I encourage any lady who is experiencing any sort of menstrual, hormonal, fertility or pelvic trauma to contact the Ayurvedic Clinic that I attend in Purley Oaks, not far from Gatwick Airport.

You can arrange a Skype appointment with one of the doctors and can be sent herbs and encouraged to follow an Ayurvedic diet plan for your type (diet in terms of what you should avoid eating for balance rather than weight loss). You might also attend the clinic itself if necessary for Panchakarma (treatments – these are amazing and I go whenever I feel depleted and completely out of balance and attended before IVF too). See http://www.theayurvedicclinic.com

Eating well

I know, I hear you, we all know about eating well these days, but it can be so important for the health of our womb.  If we eat really drying and acidic food then this may lead to a dry and acidic womb, which might lead to dis-ease and may also prevent an embryo growing. You need to nourish yourself with nourishing foods and those that are appropriate for your constitution and for what is going on for you. 

I’m absolutely not a fan of dieting in terms of losing weight.  I think it’s important that we follow a diet that supports our health and wellbeing and increases our vitality – this is the reason I try and follow an Ayurvedic diet that works for me and my constitution when I can, as it looks at the whole person. It’s so important that you nourish yourself and keep your digestive fire stoked.  Remember to drink plenty of water too.  

Reiki

I love Reiki! For me it has been truly life changing as it is so healing! If you are Reiki attuned then all the better as you can channel Reiki to your womb as often as you are able.  I channelled Reiki into my womb space a lot throughout IVF and pregnancy and was comforted by it (you can read all about this in my book Dancing with the Moon). 

If you aren’t Reiki attuned then you will need to arrange a treatment with a qualified Reiki practitioner (let me know if you need any recommendations). Reiki treatments are wonderful because not only do you get to relax, but you get to heal and have all your chakras balanced in the process! Definitely a great support for the womb.

So you see there are things that can be done. But you must trust in your own wisdom too.  What is your womb trying to tell you? Perhaps it’s trying to wake you up to your highest potential. 

As Bri Maya Tiwari writes: “The power of your Shakti goes beyond the space of the womb and its magic of bringing new life into the world.  Your womb also has a divine function, which is the cultivation of nurturing and healing powers of the Mother within. In working with your Shakti, you will discover profound physical and spiritual health. In so doing, you as a woman also affect and influence the well-being of all living things”.

If you find yourself reading this and something is resonating, then honour the calling. You are being called.  You’re being asked to do the work.  To heal the womb.  To come home to yourself. 

x

Part 29 - The Light of Surrender

Our lives were filled with light that Thursday morning; as if the surrendering brought with it a rush of support from the Universe.

There were Earth angels everywhere as I was assigned the most beautifully funny and reassuring midwife who was the embodiment of compassion and understanding.  She was supported by another midwife who happens to be the best friend of my cousin-in-law.  It was perfect.  Ladies who cared and who were in part familiar to me.

My parents kindly rushed around collecting some things for me from the cottage and dropping them into the ward as we hadn’t brought anything with us that morning.  While I was deemed an emergency, we had time, and all I asked was the opportunity to take a shower, which was granted.

I enjoyed standing bent over in the shower cubicle, the water washing over my back and cleansing me. I needed to feel clean ahead of the surgery.  It also gave me time and the space to be on my own too, processing events and coming to terms with my present reality.

The contracting had eased at this point, and I was feeling decidedly calm about everything. After some time, I dried myself and sat quietly, holding my precious lump of rose quartz, dropping awareness within and noticing how it felt; was there any residual fear and could I let go of this? I then sat with my breath until I felt aligned and centred.  I checked my pendulum, yes, now I was ready.

While I was showering, E was shown around the Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit (“NICU”) for babies, which I’d been shown around when I’d been in hospital a few days earlier. I hadn’t been too interested, because back then I hadn’t expected the baby to arrive at 34 weeks.  Even now I wasn’t too fazed, there was mention that the baby may need support in the delivery room, but my sole focus was on the birth.

Back at my bed the final arrangements were put in place. I had asked to keep my placenta and a tub was found for this.  I’d also asked for vaginal seeding to take place although this was refused me – the specialist almost laughed that I’d suggested it in the first place.

One of the reasons I had resisted a Caesarean birth was due to the increased risk of health conditions in childhood as the baby is deprived of the bacteria that live in the mother’s vagina.

One way around this is to collect the mother’s vaginal fluid on a piece of gauze prior to the birth and wipe this gauze over the baby’s mouth, face and body directly after birth.  This will help to kick start the baby’s immune system and gut by exposing the baby to a diverse mix of bacteria.

However, I was told that this would be extremely risky given that I had an infection and the baby was being born so early. I accepted this easily, the baby’s wellbeing was paramount and I had to respect the knowledge and experience of the medical team, even if this went against my own understanding of things. 

By late morning they were ready in theatre for me and I was ready to meet my baby. I walked to theatre this time, which made a huge difference psychologically, as if I was giving my full consent to the process and not being pushed in a bed as had happened previously.

Arriving at the theatre it was still a relatively alien environment to me, although this time I had none of the fear that had gripped me previously. The theatre nurse assigned to me was another Earth angel who did all he could to care for me.

I knew with certainty that the Universe had my back and that I was being truly supported. I also had my mantra running constantly thought my mind, “love not fear” and it was this that I repeated to myself as the spinal block was applied.

It was actually a relief to be anaesthetised because the contractions had started up again and it was a challenge to stay present to these and do what was asked of me in terms of my positioning on the bed.  The theatre nurses were very kind and I held one of their hands as I focused in on my breath. 

The spinal block soon took effect and we went through the usual checks.  I had made the anaesthetist aware of the issues I had experienced with Elijah’s birth and she was another angel who kept talking to me and making sure that I felt ok. Before I knew it E was beside me wearing his blue theatre attire.

It all seemed to happen very quickly after then and we held hands as our son was born at 12.21pm on Thursday 20 October 2016 with E watching on. Here he was safely Earthside, our little grounded warrior, Eben Ron McInnes, whose name had chosen itself months earlier.

We liked the name when we were looking at names for Elijah and we just had a sense that if we had another boy he would be called Eben. The name is Hebrew and means “stone of help” and this felt rather appropriate to me because in utero he felt grounded.  Furthermore, I had this sense that this was a healing baby and would help in the world as he was now helping me.

As we had named Elijah after E’s Dad, Iain, we had agreed that if we had a boy, he would name him after my Dad, Ron. The name comes from Old Norse and means “warrior”, and he seemed to be living up to this name already.

Eben weighed 5lb 1oz, which was a brilliant weight for a baby born six weeks premature, but he needed oxygen upon delivery and while I got a glance of him, he was immediately whisked away to the Neo Natal Intensive Care Unit, while I was stitched up again.

I was jubilant, we had another son, a gift from above.  And his birth too was a gift, for I had been given the opportunity to embody surrender. This was all I had ever wanted to experience; the surrender that accompanies the birthing process.  I too, felt re-birthed.

There was nothing to fight against. There was just this incredible sense of peace and calmness. The Universe had our back. We were bathed in love and with that came the realisation that that’s all there is.  We are all heart, just like our babies had shown at their 6 week’s scan. There is nothing to fear and nowhere else to be but in the moment.

We were in the flow and that meant constantly surrendering to the present, whatever it may give. And I was grateful for this realisation over the coming week ahead.

Part 28 - Dancing with the Moon

I started contracting during the facial treatment.  I didn’t realise what it was at the time, I just thought it was some cramping.  The sensation increased during the evening to the point that I found it difficult to sleep.

I was jubilant, I was finally contracting!  I had longed to experience this sensation, ever since it was denied to me with the planned delivery of Elijah three years earlier.  This time around, I had wanted the baby to choose it’s birthing date, and here it was, making that choice.

I loved every moment of that evening; it was one of the most intimate experiences of my life. I shall always treasure the insight it provided, of my breath, of sensation, and of the opportunity to be joyfully present.  Pain brings this gift to us, and here I was able to rejoice with it.

I spent some time on the sofa, dipping in and out of Facebook, aware of the time changing because the new day brought with it new birthdays.  I shall never forget that, because I felt so pleased with myself being one of the first people to congratulate a friend on her birthday.

When I had tired of that and the sensation demanded otherwise, I wrapped myself in a blanket and spent time outside in the darkness of the night with the waning moon and the stars above me.

I squatted on the Earth where Elijah’s tree grows with his placenta nourishing it, and where I’d bled prior to conceiving this new life growing inside me, and felt an incredible oneness with everything. It felt poignant, as if I was stepping into a portal that connected me to the mysteries of this world.

And then the moment came as I always hoped it would, when all I wanted to do was sway my hips and dance.

I danced with the moon shining her light over me as I held my baby within me. Together we danced around the garden and I couldn’t stop smiling because I was on my own and I was having the most amazing time. 

I felt overwhelming love for my baby and for Elijah and E asleep inside, and for the world, and this oneness that goes as quickly as it comes.  I felt truly aligned.

I danced with the moon until I knew it was time to go inside again.

Here I lay in the bath, cleansed by the water, focusing on breath and sensation and on and on it went.

At some point during the early hours I released my mucous plug and while I was aware that if I was in labour I was meant to telephone the ward immediately, I felt that I didn’t need to do that just yet. 

All fear had finally gone and there was this sense that perhaps I could just wing it.  Perhaps I could just stay at home like this and see what happened, see whether I could birth my breech baby all on my own. I still hadn’t given up on that hope. But I was aware that if it was meant to be, it would be, and that the baby would arrive quickly.

However, by 5.30am there was no baby and I began to realise that I had to do something about my situation. E was awake by then and I noticed that the discharge had started to change colour, it wasn’t a clear/pinkish colour anymore, so I knew it was now time to telephone the hospital.

With E awake the sensations felt stronger because I wasn’t able to be in my space with my breath in the same way as I had been on my own.  This was an insight to me, the potential need to be alone during the birthing experience. Not that I had that opportunity because having telephoned the ward they told me to come in immediately.

With Elijah now awake, the three of us stepped out of the house into the darkness of the night, and there up in the sky ahead of us was the waning moon and the sign of a cross in the sky, made from two airline streams.  It felt incredibly auspicious and I knew in my heart of hearts that now was the time, this was a sign, this was really happening.

We dropped Elijah off at E’s Mum and went to the hospital where I discovered that its rather tricky to walk when you’re contracting at the same time!

It’s also rather tricky to lie still and be scanned.  But alas that is what happened and it showed that yes, I was contracting and a decision would soon need to be made about delivery because the specialists didn’t want me going into full blown labour and running the risk of delivering a breech baby.

A swipe was taken to test for an infection and I was allocated a bed on the ward. The specialist felt that one way or another there was a high chance that the baby would be delivered that day.  If the tests showed that I had an infection, then I would need to have the baby delivered that morning.

If I didn’t have an infection there was a chance that now it was light outside the contractions would stop and I would be monitored – the longer the baby was in utero the better for his/her development.

I was still talking about breech delivery because there was still hope.  There was still a chance that the contractions would ease and I would have time.

I was aware that the specialist I had first seen when I was initially pregnant was working the ward that morning and I was adamant that I didn’t want to see him.  He had told me I would be high risk and would likely deliver by Caesarean section and here I was about to do that.

It didn’t seem to matter anymore. By then I’d finished reading the “The Universe has Your Back” and my mantra was ‘love not fear’.  And here I was in hospital very aware that yes, the Universe had my back, and what was meant to be was meant to be.

I had to surrender.

And then came the opportunity.

My lovely female specialist was now on duty and she came to see me with the specialist who we’d seen earlier that morning to tell us that I had an infection.

She took my hand and told me that she knew this wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but there really was no choice now, the baby had to be delivered that morning by Caesarean Section.

I laughed.

I laughed because one way or another I was destined to have a repeat Caesarean Section. The Goddess of the Moon was dancing and now I finally chose to dance with her.

I surrendered.

There was no choice.  There was nothing to fight any longer.  The Universe had my back. Love not fear.

And there it was.  I finally accepted my reality.  There would be no home birth. There would be no spiritual experience in the shower as I attempted to birth my baby all on my own.  There would be none of that.

But what there was, was far more profound in many ways.  Because I was being asked to step beyond the fear and my idea of how things should be, to experience the spiritual in it. This was the lesson that I had needed to learn and this brought with it the spiritual experience and opportunity for growth that I had always dreamt of, just it was presenting itself in a way I had not expected…but that’s the way of the Universe. Our dreams always come true but not as we expect them to, that too is a lesson in surrender and acceptance.

Part 27 - Preterm pre-labour rupture of the membranes

One of the few things I had brought with me to the hospital from Herm was my laptop, so after a few hours of restless sleep, I gave up trying and researched all I could on ‘waters breaking early’ instead. 

The baby lies in an amniotic sac of fluid or ‘waters’ and ‘waters breaking’ means that the sac has ruptured or broken. Waters normally break around the time that labour is due but in around 2% of pregnancies they break early. The medical term for this condition is PPROM, which stands for preterm pre-labour rupture of the membranes and means that the waters have broken before the baby has reached full term (37 weeks).

Intrauterine infection is present in around third of women with PPROM but in most cases it happens without any infection being present. The reasons for these cases is unclear, however it has been linked to heavy smoking during pregnancy.

At that time, I didn’t have any signs of infection and I wasn’t a smoker so it was considered just ‘one of those things’. I couldn’t help thinking however that the Goddess of the Moon had a role to play in all this and certainly that role became clearer in the days ahead.

I had thought that once the waters break, the pregnant lady immediately goes into labour but I discovered that this isn’t the case, contrary to the scene depicted in many a film (the recent Bridget Jones is a classic example of this).

When waters break early, the treatment is dependant on the stage of the pregnancy. There is an increased risk of going into labour prematurely and this brings with it the health risks for the baby of early birth, which are obviously greater the younger they are. There’s also the risk that if the pregnant woman doesn’t go into labour that she and the baby are at risk of infection.

The specialists had to balance these two considerations. If the waters had broken because of infection, then there would be an increased risk of the baby getting the infection and delivery may have to be immediate. 

When the waters have broken but there is no infection present, as in my case, then while both of us were still at risk, the immediate risk is lesser and the treatment depends again on the stage of pregnancy.

It was agreed that I would remain in hospital for the initial 24 hours so that I could be monitored for infection and have steroids administered to help the baby’s lungs fully develop.  Furthermore, if I was going to go into early labour then it is more likely to happen in that 24-hour period following the waters breaking.

My body was continuously replacing amniotic fluid to protect the baby, but as the sac was broken it was not retained and was constantly trickling out of me.  It was the strangest sensation and I had to wear pads to collect the fluid, which I needed to change regularly.  The fluid was a clear/pinkish colour and I had to keep checking that this didn’t become greenish or brown, which would indicate infection. I was encouraged to drink lots of water to enable the body to use this to create the amniotic fluid.

I found it funny – the Goddess of the Moon was up to her tricks again.  Earlier on in the pregnancy I had made a real fuss about the due date as the dating scan at 12 weeks had given me an earlier date than the clinic.  I couldn’t understand the reason the medical profession would work from the computer generated date, when I quite clearly knew the exact date of conception because of the clinical manner in which the baby had been conceived.

I was concerned, back then, of intervention at 40 weeks as the specialist I initially saw told me that he wouldn’t want me carrying the baby beyond the 40-week period.  Thus I had been very keen that the medical profession use the date given to me by the clinic as this would ‘buy’ me an extra four days of pregnancy before any talk of intervention.

Now however, the earlier due date was working in my favour because it meant that I reached the ‘safe’ 34 weeks four days earlier than if we had used the due date given to me by the clinic. Thus when Monday arrived, I’d reached 34 weeks per the dating scan and I was administered the final steroid. I could almost hear the midwives sighing with relief that we’d managed to get to that date without me going into labour.

Over the course of that initial 24-hour period in hospital, I saw three different specialists and they all agreed that I should be allowed to go home and continue life as normal, except no baths, no sex and no teaching yoga.  I was to return to the ward every other day for monitoring and to check for any signs of infection by continuing to regularly take my temperature and check my discharge. 

The intention was to keep the baby in utero for as long as possible, but no longer than 37 weeks when the baby is considered full term.  At that point I would need to have a Caesarean delivery as the baby was breech and without the amniotic fluid, there was no way it could turn now. This was far from ideal as I was still adamant that I didn’t want to have a Caesarean section and I was going to do all I could to fight for a vaginal delivery.

I raised the issue with each of the specialists in turn.  My lovely lady specialist was adamant that that wasn’t going to be an option. Another was aware that the Hannah Term Breech Trial had been flawed and that while there were risks with a breech delivery, there were also risks associated with a Caesarean Section and it was a case of seeing what happened.  The other wouldn’t give an opinion either way and left me with some hope that possibly I could convince him of a vaginal breech delivery when we got to decision day.

I spoke to the midwives at length about breech delivery too and enquired whether any of them would be able to facilitate this delivery, but the answer was a resounding ‘no’. There is now a lot of fear surrounding vaginal breech delivery and many midwives are not trained to support such a birth.

It was frustrating and yet I was still so determined. I prayed with increased vigour for a resolution that would find the baby miraculously turning and tried to keep my thinking positive. 

Around this time, I emailed my four University friends and shared with them the recent events and my desperation to avoid another Caesarean Section. One of them had had a planned Caesarean section as her son was also breech and the another one had experienced both an emergency and a planned Caesarean Section. Both were keen to allay my fears and assure me that a Caesarean birth could be both empowering, intimate and beautiful.

While I was still stubbornly resistant to the idea of a Caesarean Section, their comments did get me thinking.  I knew without doubt that my experience of Caesarean Section had not been empowering, intimate or beautiful, yet I began questioning whether that was due to the placenta previa more than the procedure per se.

I was released from hospital that Monday late morning and returned home to find the book I had ordered on the Saturday “The Universe Has Your Back” by Gabrielle Bernstein, had arrived. This book is about relinquishing the need to control our lives, to transmute fear into love, find safety in the face of uncertainty, joy in what might otherwise be pain and to recognise that the Universe has your back. It was certainly well timed.

If there was one thing I needed to be reminded of right now it was that the Universe had my back and that there was a greater plan at work here.  Deep down I already knew this, but I realised that I needed to try to come to terms with the possibility of a Caesarean Section and address all the fears that were attached to this.  I had to see the love, and strengthen my faith in a peaceful outcome, whatever that may mean.

My colleagues thought I was mad returning to work on the Tuesday with my waters broken but the specialists believed that this was the safest option for me as it meant I was sitting for most of the day.  They were all nervous though and there were jokes of a delivery in the office.

I felt fine, albeit that I was constantly leaking amniotic fluid and I couldn’t feel the baby kicking so easily now, so there were moments of minor panic. However, the more I read my new book, the more I started to realise that this was all a lesson in overcoming fear and stepping into a place of love and trust instead. 

I felt this overwhelming need to try and get on top of my workload and finish off loose ends. This feeling increased that evening and I had a fretful night’s sleep as I ran over in my mind all that I needed to do to ensure that my workload was in a position to handover to someone else.

I woke up feeling energised and raring to get on with the day. Firstly, however I needed to get in the sea, as I just felt I needed cleansing and grounding ahead of the day. We all traipsed down to the beach and I remember the intimacy of it and mentioned to E that I didn’t think I would be back again for a while and that we needed to capture this moment just the three of us.

I had to go into the hospital that morning so that my temperature could be checked and for the baby’s heart to be monitored. Basically this means that two flat devices (sensors) are held in place over the baby bump by elastic belts and the baby’s heart beat is recorded on a chart and checked for any abnormalities.

I also had to press a button each time the baby kicked so the midwives could monitor the baby’s movements.  Other than that I got to lie back and read my book, which was constantly reminding me to turn to love and away from fear.

After that I headed into the office and worked as quickly as I could to tie off loose ends.  I remember being so focused and busy that I didn’t even stop to eat anything. I had resigned from my job a few months earlier but a replacement had not yet been found.  So I wrote notes detailing all aspects of my role so that someone could easily come in and pick this up from me if necessary.

By 5pm I was finished and it was a huge weight off my mind. I felt like I could finally relax, although I had this sense that I needed to go to a church and pray. E and Elijah joined me and we tried our local church, St Andrews, where E’s Dad’s ashes are kept but this was strangely closed.  We visited E’s Dad’s grave nonetheless, which felt appropriate in the circumstances.

We then headed to St Martin’s church, as it was the next closest one to us, and it was only when we arrived that I realised why we had been directed here.  Outside the church is a granite standing stone or Menhir dating from 2500 – 1800BC, which is shaped as a female figure and is known as La Gran’mère du Chimquière. New brides place flowers on her head for luck and she is adorned with flowers on May Day.

I couldn’t help feeling that I needed her energy and wisdom in my life now too, so I touched her, said a prayer, gave thanks and asked for her support. We then briefly visited the church and I prayed to Mary for a miracle.  I still wanted the baby to turn from its breech position and I was hoping for Divine intervention!

I felt comforted by our church visitation and returned home feeling that now I could relax as everything was completed. It was perfect timing for a facial appointment I had booked later that evening as a post-retreat treat, an opportunity to finally relax, or so I thought!

Part 26 - Did my waters break or did I just wet myself?

In my infinite wisdom, I decided to run a Yoga and Wellbeing Retreat in the October that I would be 33 weeks pregnant.

I didn’t foresee any issues, I’d taught yoga until 36 weeks during my first pregnancy and while Elijah had been born at 38.5 weeks’ gestation, that was due to a planned Caesarean Section for placenta previa.

Ordinarily, one of my best friend’s, Vicki, helps me on retreat. She’s an amazing yoga adjustor and a compliment to the classes.  However, she had initially planned to be on holiday at the time of the retreat, so I commandeered the services of another local yoga teacher instead.

Nearer to the time Vicki’s plans changed and, initially, I was fairly adamant that I didn’t need her help in addition to the other teacher. However, the weekend prior to the retreat I got a tummy bug that made me feel rotten. I spent a day in bed feeling very sorry for myself and had to ask Vicki to cover my evening yoga class for me.

It was then, lying in bed on that Monday, with the retreat due to start on the Friday, that I had this sense that I needed Vicki to help me on the retreat too. Fortunately, she was keen to do so and with that I felt a sense of relief.  While I had no reason to doubt my ability to teach on the retreat, I was tired, as I had been busy building up to it. 

In my mind I’d decided that once the retreat had finished I would take life more slowly and gently. I should’ve known better - life has a habit of not always turning out as you intend, especially when you invite the Goddess of the Moon into it.

An Aries super full moon was due to peak at 4.23am on the Sunday, the retreat finishing later that morning at 11am. This full moon was meant to be all about ramming through fear, changing what you can change and surrendering to the rest.  It was ideal material for the retreat and provided our focus…face the fear and surrender to it…

On the Friday afternoon, prior to the guests arriving I did my own practice in the beautiful yoga space and felt something shift in my pelvis. The sensation sent me into minor panic because something didn’t feel right, but I didn’t have too much time to reflect on it as the participants were due to arrive. Still I spent that evening a little on edge, desperate to feel the baby kicking, who was having a quiet one, chilling out in my womb instead.

On the Saturday I joined the others for the usual early morning swim in the sea and was heartened that I could feel the baby kicking. I was very aware of the full moon energy building and I spent much of the weekend going on repeatedly about this.

I was especially focused on inviting the students to really tap into their fears and see if they could surrender to these during the weekend. I’m sure I bored them senselessly!

That afternoon I did another practice on my own, a womb based one ahead of the womb based class I was intending to teach that afternoon and I felt something shift again.  I wasn’t quite sure what it was, but later that afternoon when I went for a walk with Vicki, I felt as if the baby had dropped, and I found myself holding my bump, as if to hold the baby in.  It was a strange feeling.

After dinner that evening I played with Elijah, lifting him up and rolling on the ground with him, having lots of fun together before bedtime.  On the way to our room, I bought myself a strawberry quartz bracelet that Athene, one of my jeweller friends was selling. It had been catching my eye all weekend and I decided that now was the time to wear it.

Little did I realise how quickly the energy of this bracelet would get to work. Apparently the energy of strawberry quartz supports one’s emotional body, helping to heal and release negative emotional patterns no longing serving one, bringing one’s emotions into harmony so that one lives one’s life with an appreciation for, and with gratitude to all that life brings.

Back in the room and Elijah asleep I ordered the book, “The Universe has Your Back” by Gabrielle Bernstein, from Amazon.  I had seven weeks until my due date and I wanted the Universe to have my back – or help me turn my breech baby. Either that or I was going to have to face my fear of another Caesarean Section, and learn how to surrender to it.

I went to sleep about 10pm while E was still with friends, merrily drinking their way through a bottle or two of wine in the Mermaid pub on Herm. About 11pm, I awoke feeling something wet in the bed, which felt very strange. I quickly realised the source of the wetness was coming from me! E was in bed by then and I tried not to wake him as I rushed to the toilet.

I initially considered that I’d just wet myself, then I realised that the water was continuing to flow out of me.  I had never experienced waters breaking previously due to the planned Caesarean section with Elijah, so it was all new to me. I woke E and explained what I thought was going on. He didn’t really know what to make of it so I sent a quick text to Anita, my doula, hoping that she was still awake and able to help me.

Fortunately, she saw the message on her way to bed and quickly responded.  She also asked whether perhaps I’d wet myself but when I explained that I still had water coming out of me, she agreed, it seemed my waters had broken.

This was not ideal timing and for a split second I considered that we might just have to see what happened in the morning as I had a yoga retreat to finish - there was still another class to teach in the morning.

However, Anita telephoned and told me in no uncertain terms that I needed to phone the hospital, that probably a lifeboat would be sent to collect me and Ewan. It all sounded a bit serious, I didn’t want all this fuss for no reason, but I also couldn’t deny the fact that my waters had broken – early and with me carrying a breech baby!

Ewan telephoned the maternity ward  and the midwife told us to come into the ward but of course we couldn’t do that, we were stuck in Herm! So there began a rather challenging few hours as arrangements were made to ‘rescue’ us and transport us to the hospital in Guernsey.

Fortunately, my parents were also staying with us on Herm and amazingly they answered their phone and joined us within five minutes. By then I was shaking uncontrollably, not least due to the fear of the unknown but also because of all the fuss and it was almost a relief to continuously leak water, as if to confirm that yes, I did need to get to the hospital.

There was lots of toing and froing telephone conversations with the paramedics and the midwives and we were told to wait until the Herm first aider came to collect us.  This seemed to take quite some time, over an hour or so, and the waiting was a very ‘present moment’ experience as I was in hyper alert mode.

On the positive side, we had time to make arrangements for the rest of the retreat. My parents would now need to stay in our room with Elijah and Vicki would need to teach the class in the morning and close the retreat.  I’d already made notes detailing what I’d wanted to say, to bring it all together, and I now wrote a message to Vicki explaining this and thanking her for covering for me!

Eventually, Mark, the First Aider, arrived on his gator and drove us the short distance to Rosaire steps where we were due to meet the lifeboat. Ordinarily the ‘Flying Christine’, the St Johns Ambulance boat would have collected me but it was deemed too rough for it.

The full moon was due to peak in a few hours and the tide was extremely low. It was also blowing a gale and the lifeboat was having trouble mooring. It didn’t help that this was a loaned lifeboat, the usual one out of service at the time.

Thus we spent an hour or so standing on the quay chatting as we watched the lifeboat crew try to figure out how to reach us.  It was ironic really, I had spotted the lifeboat on the quay alongside the Herm boat when we’d initially left Guernsey a few days earlier, which was unusual, it’s not something I normally noticed.  And now here I was watching it trying to rescue me! It’s funny how these things happen.

What was particularly amusing however, was the fact that the full moon was shining brightly above us. There she was, the Goddess of the Moon in all her glory, shining brightly. I had to laugh because of course I’d been going on and on all weekend about the power of the super full moon and here I was now standing beneath her light as she reached her peak in the early hours of the Sunday morning. I’ll never forget that image of her that night.

The outboard of the inshore dinghy wouldn’t work, so eventually anchored by lines, we were transferred ship to shore in a little rowing boat and helped to climb up onto the life boat. On board was a midwife and two female paramedics, who’d had a tough hour or so bobbing around on board. This was my first time in a life boat and I couldn’t quite comprehend all this fuss just for me. 

The tide was so extremely low that the lifeboat had to go the long way back to Guernsey, and there was a significant swell, which meant that the boat was moving about dramatically at times.  The midwife was keen to get me back to Guernsey as quickly as possible and the crew did their best to facilitate this.

I was seated in the padded and sprung chair, which was a relief as it took some of the pressure off the bumping that the others had to endure.  I’ll never forget that journey though as it did nothing to ease my nerves. The lifeboat was tossed around and I felt decidedly sick by the end of the trip. Poor E wasn’t in a comfy chair and his stomach didn’t like the ride either.  Even his back was sore from the experience.

Back on dry land on Guernsey we were driven in an ambulance to the hospital. It was surreal being on the road in the early hours of the morning as party revellers returned home. I felt a bit of a fraud in an ambulance as I felt fine, other than the fact I had water dripping out of my vagina and wetting my pants and leggings.

At the hospital, my lovely lady specialist happened to be on duty, which was fortunate as we were able to joke about the manner in which my pregnancy was unfolding.  She knew I was keen for a vaginal delivery, and she knew that the baby had turned breech and would need to turn to facilitate this.  And now here I was at 33 weeks with my waters broken.  It wasn’t ideal.

An internal examination confirmed that yes, my waters had indeed broken but that I wasn’t yet in labour. According to my midwifery records, my due date based on the dating scan showed that I was 33 weeks and 6 days pregnant.  This meant that the baby was – in theory at least – only a day away from having fully developed lungs. The specialist was keen therefore that we did all we could to promote this development and keep the baby in utero until at least 34 weeks’ gestation.

I was immediately prescribed steroids, which would be administered to me over the following 24-hour period while I was kept on the ward for observation. I remember the specialist and nurse leaving E and I in the triage room to go and make the necessary arrangements and me bursting into tears and clinging on to him.

I wasn’t ready to have the baby.  I had had it in my mind all pregnancy that I would work hard until my Herm retreat and then calm it down a bit.  I had been looking forward to the calmer period, focusing on my pregnancy and trying to turn the baby, and now here I was with my waters broken. I wasn’t prepared mentally or emotionally.

Furthermore, I wasn’t at all prepared practically.  All the baby stuff was in storage and I hadn’t yet gotten around to sorting it. Clothes needed to be washed and the Moses basket found.  I hadn’t bought any nappies or other stuff required for a small baby, and I certainly hadn’t packed my hospital bag.

However, whether I was ready or not, this was really happening and half an hour later I found myself trying to get comfortable on a hospital bed on the maternity ward, while E walked home. It was all a little surreal and I sobbed quietly to myself as I tried to get some sleep, all the while my mind trying to come to terms with what was happening. 

Part 25 - Trying to turn a breech baby

I had seven weeks to turn my breech baby before the specialist would start talking about Caesarean Section delivery.  It sounded like plenty of time.

I began reading extensively on breech birth and discovered that about 3% of babies present as breech, which was just typical really and summed up my pregnancies.  There was always something that had to be different about them!

Still, most babies who are in the breech position between 32 to 34 weeks turn themselves into a headfirst position by birth. If the baby remains breech at 37 weeks it may be possible for an obstetrician to turn the baby using a technique called external cephalic version. It’s said that just over half of babies are turned this way, albeit not the most comfortable of procedures to go through for the mother.

There were other ways and I was directed to www.spinningbabies.com which has lots of information about breech babies and tips on how to turn them. I was determined that I wasn’t having another Caesarean section so I was keen to try everything I could to attempt to turn my breech baby.

Initially I tried the breech tilt which meant that I lay upside down on an ironing board which had one end resting up against the bed.  I’d come across this concept a few years earlier when I’d read a fictional book about a Canadian midwife employing such tactics to help a baby turn. It had stuck in my mind as an ingenious way to help prevent breech delivery and now here I was doing the same.

If I’m truthful, it wasn’t the most comfortable position to find myself in. Furthermore, I didn’t know how I was going to find the time to lie like that for 20 minutes three times a day, which is the recommended period if you want to stand a chance of it working. And what exactly was I going to do while lying there, it’s certainly not the ideal position for meditating or yoga nidra.

I decided I’d be better off practicing more headstands and shoulder stands in my yoga practice instead. It was the same with the recommended handstand in the swimming pool, I decided I’d just practice more handstands against the wall at home. It was ironic really as I couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t the handstand that had gotten me into this mess in the first place, although I had this feeling it would have happened regardless.

Then there was the moxibustion, which uses tightly rolled sticks of mugwort herb much like a stick of incense.  You light one end of the moxibustion stick and the coal that this creates is held over an acupuncture point on the foot to heat the point and help the baby turn. E thought it was nonsense but I felt that it was worth a try.

So while I lay on the sofa reading a book, E tried to hold the heated stick at the right place on my foot. I have to say that despite being very receptive to this sort of thing, I just wasn’t feeling it.  I mean literally, there wasn’t any shift in the positioning of the baby, and furthermore, I couldn’t be sure that E was positioning the stick properly.

I also tried reflexology, Cranial-sacral work and Bowen therapy. I’m a huge fan of homeopathy so I tapped into this too and took the homeopathic remedy, Pulsatilla. I’d read that if taking this remedy for three days doesn’t turn the baby then it is unlikely the baby will turn. Unfortunately, after three days the baby hadn’t turned.

It was then that I came across this marvellous blog posting written by a lady about her journey to try to turn her breech baby. This lady wrote about how she’d tried all the same techniques that I had tried and that nothing had worked. Then, at the last minute, she’d had a massive emotional melt down and totally let go…and lo and behold right at the last minute the baby turned. 

I really didn’t want to have any medical intervention so this blog posting gave me some hope.  I was getting desperate by this stage and was determined that something had to work, the baby had to turn.  It was probably in recognising my desperation, and being so frustrated that nothing was working that I too had a big emotional meltdown, the tears flooding my yoga mat one morning. 

Still the baby didn’t turn but still there was hope. I was told stories of pregnant ladies being prepped to go to theatre for a Caesarean Section only for the Midwife to double check the baby’s position and find that at the last moment the baby had flipped head down and could be birthed vaginally.

The trouble was, I had this niggling feeling that this baby just wasn’t going to turn.  It seemed very comfortable in its breech position and no amount of manipulation on my part seemed to make any difference.  Furthermore, no amount of shoulder stands, headstands or handstands had any effect either. And with the other techniques, well a little like the homebirth, I was just going through the motions really as E looked on bemused!

I continued my research and discovered that there are a number of physical reasons that one may have a breech baby including the following:

·      Smaller than average baby;

·      In multiple pregnancies one baby may be lying in the breech position;

·      There may not be enough, or too much, amniotic fluid;

·      The placenta may be covering the womb’s entrance (like I had with Elijah).

·      Tightness in the womb or pelvic misalignment, perhaps from carrying a toddler on one’s hip.

I could relate to some of this.  I had started to see a biodynamic cranial sacral therapist as I was having issues with my sacrum and felt that my pelvis was misaligned, due to constantly carrying Elijah on my left hip. However, I also had a feeling that there was more to it than all this and I researched the non-physical reasons for a breech presentation too. These included the following:

·      The mother-to-be harbouring a lot of fear about becoming a mother;

·      The mother-to-be and her mother having unresolved conflict;

·      The mother-to-be not wanting to ‘give up’ carrying her baby.

·      The mother needing to ‘hold’ the baby close to her heart due to fears of birth, parenthood, and/or fear about the world the baby will be born into;

In a similar vein, others believe that the baby can sense when their mothers are stressed or in emotional pain and may move into a breech position so that they can be closer to her heart in order to comfort her – a breech baby may have strong instincts already.

There’s also a belief that breech babies are on a mission in this life time and arrive feet first so that they can firmly plant their feet on the Earth and get going. Others believe they arrive this way so that they can look their Mother in the eye and move through life together, and yet with a strong conviction of their own. Folklore suggests that a breech baby will have healing powers.

I found this all very fascinating as I could relate to some of it. My life was busy and there were times where I was stressed.  I was working very hard on a few projects that I was keen to complete before the baby arrived.  In my mind, I had given myself the deadline of my October Herm Yoga & Wellbeing Retreat when I would be 33 weeks pregnant, to complete everything  After that I intended to slow things down up until the anticipated birth at 40 weeks.

However, sitting with it, I began to consider that perhaps this wasn’t about me, that perhaps it was part of the bigger picture. This is not to say that I didn’t still feel a pressure to turn the baby, but more so that I had a feeling the baby was not going to turn regardless of what I did. Thus I started to read up on breech delivery and was fascinated by what I read.

Beginning in the 1960s, obstetricians gradually shifted the way they delivered breech babies because they preferred the predictability and the presumed greater safety of a Caesarean birth. But not every doctor jumped on the Caesarean Section band wagon immediately; with many continuing to favour vaginal breech births.

That is, until the Hannah Term Breech Trial (“TBT”) published in 2000 brought them to a screeching halt. The TBT followed 2,083 breech babies in 26 countries, randomly assigned to either vaginal or planned Caesarean section delivery. Early data suggested fewer newborn deaths and injuries occurred in the Caesarean section group. The impact of the study was incredible – within months’ breech Caesarean Sections increased from 50% to 80% and by 2006, it was at 90%. Then it was discovered that the study was flawed.

In fact, critics began poking holes in the TBT immediately after its publication. For example, some poor outcomes attributed to vaginal delivery occurred in birth centres that used substandard techniques or unskilled birth attendants. Some babies had genetic defects or were premature.

In short, most weren’t injured because they were delivered vaginally, but because of other factors. Further study indicated that most of the babies recovered fully from their birth injuries regardless of delivery method, and researchers also hadn’t factored in the increased health risks resulting from Caesarean sections.

It was felt that the results should have supported informed decision-making, but instead, hospitals reacted by taking the choice away from women. Another unfortunate result was that medical schools stopped teaching vaginal breech delivery skills to an entire generation of new doctors and midwives. This sadly is the current reality we face – that the medical profession lack both the knowledge and skill to deliver a breech baby naturally.

I watched a number of videos on the internet of breech babies being born vaginally and there was something rather special and beautiful about these.  Still when I mentioned to people that I would like to have a go at a vaginal breech delivery, I was surprised by their reaction – there was so much fear!  

I was told that the birth would be extremely painful and that I would be putting my baby’s health at risk.  I was made to feel that I was silly for even suggesting the idea. It made me laugh because the alternative of a Caesarean Section is not exactly a walk in the park either – it’s just easier for the medical profession to control. 

I spoke to the Head of Midwifery about the possibility of a vaginal breech delivery and she said that even if a specialist agreed to go ahead with the notion, it wouldn't be a birth I would want for my baby (or for me) due to the medicalised nature of it. It would involve constant monitoring and doubtlessly intervention whether it was needed or not.

It made me feel sad that there is so much fear about breech delivery. My cousin was a breech baby and born vaginally, my Aunt living to tell the tale. And clearly breech babies are still being born vaginally, certainly in the home environment by those midwives skilled in this form of delivery.  I was heartened to read that there are some murmurs of trying to normalise breech delivery again.

This gave me a little hope and I certainly wasn’t prepared to give up on the idea.  I played around with the possibility of employing the skills of an independent midwife, but something held me back from taking this forward.  I was very much of the mind-set that I would just wait and see what happened nearer the time, I just had a feeling that it would all become clearer. Ha, little could I have imagined!

Part 24 - High Risk Pregnancy?

The sickness arrived earlier, at five weeks this time and I felt awful. It was all consuming and particularly challenging with a toddler in tow. There just wasn’t the opportunity to rest as there had been during my first pregnancy and I struggled with this.

At seven weeks’ gestation I bled. I felt pretty certain that I was meant to have this baby, but this experience certainly tested my faith. I could still feel the energy of the baby within me and my pendulum was also suggesting that all was well, but the blood made me think otherwise.

It was a nervous hour as we waited to see the doctor, who confirmed that while my cervix was closed, there was still a high chance of miscarriage. She referred me on to the specialist who managed to see me the next day.

We were due a seven-week early pregnancy scan anyway, and it was a relief to see the heart beating on the screen; our growing embryo was alive and well and my faith was strengthened. It was also a reminder that we are all heart. It’s a profound moment when you get to see this in play; that heart and love is all there is really.

However, I did have a clot in my womb that was significantly larger than the growing embryo so I was placed on bed rest for a week.  This was a blessing of sorts as it provided me with an opportunity to rest, and helped ease me through this stage of the sickness as I was able to sleep and chill out.   

After the week on bed rest, life returned to normal, well as much as it can when you feel dreadfully sick, and over time the clot was re-absorbed by my body.  This whole episode did remind me of the need to take it slowly, and this certainly impacted on my yoga practice.

When I was pregnant with Elijah I continued with my active Vinyasa practice, making little allowance for the pregnancy. Yet now I felt very differently about the style of yoga and relished taking the practice gently. I adopted a much more feminine approach to my practice and was inspired greatly by the teachings of Uma Dinsmore-Tuli. I also made sure to incorporate Yoga Nidra and resting when I could to support the pregnancy.

The energy of this baby felt different than it had done with Elijah, which I found fascinating. S/he was less active, which concerned me at times, and encouraged me to dig deep and trust that all would be well. S/he felt much more grounded though and I had a sense that this was my healing baby.

I considered that perhaps this time I would be able to home birth and even though E was a little uncertain, I engaged the services of my doula, Anita, again. I wanted to have the spiritual birth experience that I hadn’t been able to have with Elijah and I wanted to do all I could to avoid having another Caesarean Section.

I was challenged therefore when I was scored by my midwife as being ‘high risk’.

“High risk, what on earth for?” I demanded to know.

“Well you’re over 40 years old, you’ve had a previous Caesarean Section and you’ve had IVF”, my midwife explained.

“But that’s ridiculous”, I tried to explain, “I’m fit and healthy and keen to homebirth”.

“Oh you won’t be able to do that”, she told me, “you’ll be under specialist care now”.

And with that the frustration began to set in again.

It didn’t help that when I saw the specialist for my initial consultation he was surprised I didn’t want a repeat Caesarean Section.

“Absolutely not”, I tried to tell him, “I had a bad experience last time and I certainly don’t want to repeat that again”.

With that he told me that my risk factors meant that there was absolutely no way that I could have a home birth. I was also not going to be allowed to go beyond 40 weeks without intervention and a Caesarean Section would likely become another reality.

I was incensed.  The specialist was new to the Island and seemed super cautious and I didn’t feel that he was listening to me.  E had come with me to the appointment and while he was pleased to hear that a homebirth was not going to be an option, he too felt that me being deemed ‘high risk’ was ridiculous.

There was another aspect to the appointment that also challenged me.  I knew with certainty the date of conception, as the clinic had confirmed this to me, but the 12-week dating scan had given me an estimated due date three days earlier than the ‘real’ one.  I have always been a little dubious of the due date thing, simply because babies arrive when they are ready, not the date that a machine has given to them based on the 12-week scan.

I was aware that the due date could play a significant role in one’s experience of late pregnancy and birth.  And now with the specialist talking about not letting me go beyond 40 weeks, those three days of discrepancy in due date became increasingly important to me.  I didn’t want the computer generated earlier due date, I wanted the due date given to me by the clinic, which was 2 December, just after E’s 50th birthday.

At the second appointment I got angry.  The specialist was again talking about the possibility of a Caesarean Section being the safest option for delivery and I was trying to say to him that I absolutely didn’t want a Caesarean Section, nor did I want intervention at 40 weeks which may inevitably lead to a Caesarean Section, and I absolutely didn’t want continuous monitoring of the baby either.

He was trying to stress the fact to me that the health of the baby was the most important thing to consider in terms of delivery.  I didn’t disagree with him but I did mention that my emotional and mental needs were important too, as I tried to explain how awful I had felt following Elijah’s birth and how I didn’t want to feel like that again.

He then asked me how I felt he should prioritise the health of the baby with my mental and emotional needs, which incensed me further.  Of course he needed to consider the health of the baby, that went without saying, but asking me to prioritise this was ridiculous, in my eyes it didn’t have to be so black and white.

E was also tested by this. He appreciated my need for a vaginal delivery and didn’t understand why that was going to be so difficult to achieve. I was fit and healthy, so in his eyes my age as a risk factor seemed crazy. He challenged the specialist on this but the specialist wasn’t listening. 

I was high risk and that was that. This meant growth scans throughout my pregnancy and a clinical birth. By the end of the appointment I felt disempowered, angry and frustrated. I didn’t want a Caesarean Section and I didn’t want the baby arriving earlier than it chose to arrive. Frankly I didn’t want any of this. I just wanted an empowering, joyful and spiritually enlightening homebirth.

It was a huge insight for me into how easily manipulated women are during pregnancy and how easily you can drop into a place of fear. I’d read extensively about birthing without fear and yet here I was, now full of fear. The specialist had tapped into my vulnerability and made me feel that my body was incapable of growing or birthing the baby without medical assistance.

I also felt that to choose an alternative birthing route would make me an incredibly irresponsible mother putting my baby and my life at risk. It didn’t help that E had also been affected by the fear pervading our specialist appointments and so I had the pressure of that too. While I desperately wanted to tap into and trust my body wisdom, the pressure to get it ‘right’ was now huge, trying for the birth of my choice seemed a massive undertaking.

I decided I couldn’t see the specialist again. His approach to my pregnancy was detrimentally affecting my experience of the pregnancy and making me feel sad and vulnerable. I cancelled my next couple of appointments with him and yet felt wayward even doing this, what if I did end up needing specialist care after all? I just wanted it all to go away and considered that my best option was birthing in a field on my own and seeing what happened!

My doula was aware how disempowered I felt from my specialist appointments and encouraged me to seek a resolution to it. As such I ended up contacting the Consultant Midwife here in Guernsey, and explained to her my concerns about the specialist led care and also the fact I was keen to birth at home if I could. 

She was wonderful, a true angel. She listened to me, which is something the specialist wasn’t doing, and this in itself was hugely empowering.  She also took action and arranged for me to see a specialist who would be more compassionate to my needs. She also confirmed that the midwife team would support me in my quest for a home birth.

I could have cried with the relief.  All of a sudden I felt liberated and supported and with that I felt that I could enjoy my pregnancy again.

After the morning sickness eased at 16 weeks, I really enjoyed this second pregnancy.  I’ve written about it before but morning sickness is so debilitating and it was a relief when it ended. Of course it was tiring, especially as Elijah was still waking at least once a night and wanted to be carried all the time, but it was a highlight in my life; I felt truly blessed.

I continued reading extensively on vaginal birth after Caesarean Section and homebirth.  I felt comfortable with my decision to try for a homebirth and decided that I would delay that conversation with my specialist for as long as possible. In many respects I should have opted not to see the specialist, but when you’re in the system it is very difficult to get yourself out of it without being made to feel irresponsible.

I finally saw the new specialist, who was female, and much more appreciative of my need to try for a vaginal birth, but was adamant that I shouldn’t be considering a home birth. She stressed the risk factors in doing both, which was frustrating because I felt the fear rearing its ugly head and had to be mindful of allowing the medical perspective to disempower me again.

It’s really incredible how we have managed to populate the world as we have when birth is considered so dangerous.  I appreciate there are risks.  The initial specialist had been keen to highlight this to me, when he quoted birthing vaginally in Afghanistan as being a very different experience from birthing vaginally in Guernsey. Women and babies regularly die from childbirth in Afghanistan, yet they don’t here, and we have the medical world to thank for that. And I guess we do really.  But all the same…

Still, there was still a high chance that despite all my efforts for a homebirth, this wasn’t going to happen because rather annoyingly here at 29 weeks, my baby was lying breech. I had already noticed this. I’d stupidly demonstrated a handstand in class the week earlier and whether that had been the reason I’ll never know, but it certainly hadn’t helped.

I was annoyed at myself for jeopardising the position of the baby. Elijah had been breech but due to the placenta previa it hadn’t really mattered so I had continued inverting during my yoga practice. But this time, I had been practicing yoga incredibly gently to ensure that this baby didn’t end up breech too.

Needless to say that the specialist was keen to point out to me (as it was her job to do) that if the baby remained breech at 36 weeks then we would need to discuss options for delivery. Sadly, breech babies are no longer allowed to be birthed vaginally and so a Caesarean Section would be the only option. Where was my luck?! I now had another hurdle to overcome and with that I took myself off to read all I could on breech babies and turning them around.

Part 23 - Another Frozen Embryo Cycle

I can’t tell you what a difference a few months made in aligning me fully to the IVF process. It was a huge lesson for me. There is a timing for everything and you cannot rush these things. You absolutely cannot afford to have any resistance to the treatment either.

I was absolutely not ready in October. I was not aligned in any way and there was a good deal of underlying resistance. I was doing what I thought I should do, rather than what I felt I should do. I was fearful of time rushing away and unfulfilled dreams. And because of this, it lacked grounding, there was no connection to the Universe, I was misreading signs and full of fear rather than excitement.

Life was very different now. It was February 2016 and I felt truly committed to fulfilling my New Year’s intention of bringing new life into the world. I was ready. I was excited. The timing felt right, the energy of the New Year for me is all about new beginnings and with the Spring energy of new life approaching, I was keen to tap into it. Everything has a resonance to it, and for me this time of year and IVF had a meaning to it.

This time we decided that we wouldn’t tell anyone, not even our parents, so that it could be our own special journey, E and I. This made a huge difference as it gave the experience more intimacy. I also made it known that I was retreating a little from the world, to focus on a creative writing project, but of course there were two creative projects going on and the significance of this – at least energetically, emotionally and spiritually - was crucial for me. It was a time to create.

The frozen embryo cycle was identical to that we had followed in October. The only difference was the fact we paid an additional amount for embryo glue, which is meant to help the embryo implant in the uterus.

In terms of drugs, here we were again; day nineteen of my cycle on 8 February 2016 and I started a seven-day course of the oral Provera so that my cycle could be controlled once more. Two days later the injecting began. Twelve days after that I had a blood test to determine that my body was responding to the drugs positively. Six days after that and we started the GEEP cycle, which involved the Progynova tablets.

I recognised the need to retreat from the world and immerse myself in the healing power of nature during the beginning of treatment, and to give it the attention it deserved. Thus the three of us retreated to the Island of Herm together for four days in the depths of winter and turned off the WIFI.  We spent our days walking around the Island immersed in the beauty of nature in the winter time, often not seeing another person.

We swam in the freezing cold sea, which I’ve always found to be both physically invigorating and so good for the soul. I also practised yoga on my own, enjoying the views of the sea from my yoga space in the cosy cottage we had rented, and resting with my legs up the wall, channelling Reiki onto my womb space.

It was a special time and ensured that we were truly in the intimate IVF zone for the rest of the treatment. It was now just a matter of continuing with this and as I did so, my connection to the Divine deepened and my faith was restored – Amen.

So by the time we got to embryo transfer I was getting really excited. It was due to happen a few days after my March Yoga and Wellbeing retreat on Herm and that whole weekend just felt perfect in terms of preparing me. Not least the energy of Herm and immersing oneself in that beautiful yogic energy with other like minded souls but more swimming in the sea and the connection to nature that the weekend provided.

It seemed that every time we left our room there was a robin in the tree outside the hotel. Robins are angels in disguise and also serve as validation that life is about to change. It was most certainly a sign and I took great comfort in this. So too on the way to the airport a few days later, when an owl flew right in front of the car at dusk. It was such a random occurrence that even E was blown away by the coincidence.

There is always the risk that the embryo – or in this case the six day old blastocyst which had been frozen for three years now – may not survive the thawing process and that the seven weeks of medication have been in vain. But fortunately for us this was not the case, the blastocyst survived and I felt that it had been waiting the whole time patiently for us.

We had left Elijah with my parents in Guernsey, and this was the first time we had ever been away without him. It felt strange but appropriate too, a little more intimate, ideal given that we were intending to ‘conceive’ new life.  We stayed in the same hotel we had stayed in for the initial treatment three years earlier, which felt appropriate, ending the journey (or so we hoped) where it had begun.

The next morning, I was able to practice some yoga to help centre myself before walking around the beautiful grounds of the hotel together.  Strangely it was another clear wintery morning, as it had been the previous time we had stayed, and I practiced some more yoga in the deer circle before hugging the very old cedar tree and saying my prayers to the ethereal beings. 

At the clinic it was far less clinical than it had been in October.  The nurse was known to us and the consultant was friendly and personable and this time we got to see the star of the blastocyst going into my womb, hoorah. When we left, we said goodbye to the consultant and the nurse and I was fairly confident we wouldn’t need to return to the clinic again.

I felt the energy of the blastocyst in my tummy immediately; it was strong and vibrant, expansive too, full of the potential of new life. I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to connect to the energy of life from conception like this and it gave me immense comfort during my pregnancy, but especially in those earlier days.

However even though I could feel this energy and had faith in a positive outcome, I was still challenged by the 12-day waiting period to take the test. I would sit at the beginning of my yoga practice and notice where I was feeing sensation in my body and inevitably it was in my stomach and as I dropped my awareness deeper into it, I recognised it as fear.

Fear really had no reason to be there, it was my mind playing tricks, my heart had a sense that all was well, and I could actually feel the blastocyst taking root inside me! So I sat with the awareness deep in my tummy, being curious to see what happened and inevitably there would be a shift and the anxiety would ease.

It was ridiculous really, because while there was the fear and anxiety there was also this knowing that all would be well and the Universe was certainly leaving me plenty of signs to validate this.   Three days before the test someone at work made an offhand comment about me being the next lady in the office to get pregnant; ha ha, if only they knew.

The next day, on a training course this time, we were given a pink USB stick that one of the guys mentioned looked like a pregnancy testing stick. He accidentally dropped it on the floor and it landed just by me so he reached down to pick it up and said to me, “oh it says you’re pregnant Emma”.  I chuckled to myself because little did he know that in two day’s time I would be taking a test that would hopefully tell me this!

There were other signs too – the child related cards flew out of my pack of angel cards and robins and feathers were everywhere I looked so I knew I was surrounded by the angels. This is not to say that there’s anything special about me, just that I had aligned myself on that level and was feeling the support of the Universe, which really helped to keep my spirit high.

It was 5am on testing day when I took the test, which fortunately validated what I already knew.  I was pregnant! The Goddess of the moon had bestowed me with child and I was ecstatic. I couldn’t stop smiling. E was relieved and my parents were joyful. My dream was coming true.  Maybe now I’d get the spiritual awakening that can accompany birth – a homebirth, or so I hoped.