Husband, HypnoBirth Partner, Snorer
So we finished up our HypnoBirthing classes, and I’m feeling pretty good about things. Clint and I have a little hypno session most evenings, where I relax and he reads what’s called a script—a story designed to help me meditate through labor. One takes me on a lovely hot air balloon ride with Clint during which I eventually tossing a box full of extra weight overboard so we can fly higher. Another walks me through a beautiful, magical forest in which I follow a playful little fawn into the bright light of day. Relaxing and symbolic and whatnot.
I’m also practice breathing. Sitting on an exercise ball instead of a chair while working all day. Continuing with yoga and massage. Listening to birth affirmations and hypno scripts at night while I’m sleeping. Drinking raspberry leaf tea (to get the ol’ uterus in shape). I’m also sorting through things in my head; trying adapt the right mindset. The one that realizes this a new birth, hopefully one that’s shorter and less painful that my first.
I am about two-thirds of the way through HypnoBirthing: The Mongan Method. A few things that have jumped out at me:
“The belief in pain surrounding childbirth is so strong that, instead of questioning the validity of the concept, there have been many efforts to rationalize its importance and attach some reason and higher purpose to it.”
That’s exactly what I did. My first birth hurt so badly that I was swearing at the top of my lungs that I would never do this again. (Paraphrased to exclude curse words.) Then I met Roy and knew instantly that I’d do it a hundred times over in a heartbeat. I decided that such a great reward shouldn’t come easy, and that was why childbirth was inherently difficult. Was I wrong? We’ll see.
“It is said that a woman births pretty much the same way that she lives life. For that reason, it is imperative that you take the time to do an assessment of how you see yourself and whether this image is productive for you or counterproductive.”
Hmmm. That’s all.
As you can see, it’s a lot of mind work. Which is cool, because I’m an overthinker anyway. Might as well use this possible character flaw for good.
Clint’s totally on board with all this. Willing to do whatever I want. Even if he does think any of it is in the least bit crazy, he would never say, which is so incredibly sweet. I suppose it’s smart, too. Who in their right mind would tell an eight-months-pregnant woman she’s crazy? Certainly not someone who has lived with an eight-months-pregnant woman before.
Make no mistake: This is a team effort. Have I mentioned that the last time around, Clint dislocated a few rib bones from his spine while helping me push? In the end, of course, the bulk of the pre-prep necessarily falls on me. Too bad, too, because the hubby is clearly better at the hypnosis thing than I am. Both times in class when Doula Dawn had us close our eyes while she read a meditation script, I worked hard to stay focused and relaxed, while Clint promptly fell asleep. It’s quite difficult to stay focused and relaxed with someone snort-snoring next to you. Kind of like when someone gives you the giggles in church or farts in yoga class.
I trust this will not be a problem in the delivery room, where snoring would be significantly less hilarious. If anything’s worse than the wrath of an eight-months pregnant woman, it’s the wrath of a nine-months-pregnant woman. In labor.
Image: A shot of a pregnant woman sitting on exercise ball, Shutterstock
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