Birthing A New You: A Labor of Love
“Birth isn’t something we suffer but something we actively do and exult in!”
— Sheila Kitzinger
On June 12th, a magnificent event occurred. My daughter, Sarah, delivered a beautiful, baby boy, named Jack Alexander. For the first time, I became a grandmother!
Three weeks prior to Jack’s birth, Sarah and her fiancé, Adam, left Brooklyn to stay with Peter and me. They had chosen the care of a midwife practice and a birthing center for delivery near our home. It was a special time for all of us.
On the 5th of June, a Sunday evening, Sarah began to experience signs of early labor. I prayed for a swift delivery, but the baby had plans of his own. Sarah's labor was long and arduous. Jack was finally born on Friday morning.
I had the privilege to be with Sarah and Adam throughout the entire process. Sarah was committed to having a drug-free birth, but by Thursday, after two difficult nights with slow progress, going to the hospital seemed like a sensible option. Sarah and Adam surrendered to this possibility before we returned to the midwife’s office for one last exam. Thankfully, she had progressed enough to go to the birthing center.
Adam and I supported Sarah, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually, throughout the hours of intense contractions. At times, I cried as Sarah’s naked body pressed and grabbed onto mine. The sounds emanating from her being and the expressions on her face shifted between agony and ecstasy. I marveled at her strength and fortitude.
After two hours of exhaustive pushing, the midwife suggested that Sarah might have to be moved to the hospital. The thought of which only furthered Sarah’s resolve “to get this baby out”. Almost two hours later, Jack’s tiny head was fully out of the birth canal. The midwife instructed Sarah to push as she gently tweaked his head to the side. With a gush, Jack burst out onto the bed. A new soul was born.
A few days after the birth, I shared with Sarah how difficult it was to see her suffer. Surprisingly, Sarah informed me that she did not suffer. Sarah said, “I chose to embrace the pain. It was part of the whole birthing process, something that would end, and on the other side, we would have a baby.”
Sarah’s wisdom echoed through me. The narrative she created about her pain is one of empowerment, strength and commitment. Her birthing experience, truly, was a labor of love.
Pain is an inevitable part of life. It is a messenger. Pain alerts us when something in our bodies, minds or lives is out of balance and needs our attention. At times, the attention needed may be medical. When pain is the result of abuse, instead of moving through it, we need to move away from its source.
Discomfort and pain are precursors of growth and change. Grief, longing, rage and confusion are all catalysts for the soul’s evolution, be that the soul of individual or the soul of a nation.
How do we use pain in the service of giving birth to a more enlightened and expanded version of ourselves? We listen to it. We hear its message. We respond to it with love, compassion and care. We trust that when we get to the other side of it, something evermore beautiful awaits.
Are you experiencing aches, pain or tension in your body? Or the emotional pain of loss, anger or isolation? These are "labor pains" pushing you to awaken to some new aspect of yourself that is developing. If you are curious and ready to give birth to the new you, I am here to guide you.