I sat down to write today because I have a friend in labor.  And one not in labor. One who is trying to help her cervix dilate so that she can give birth, and another who intentionally slowed down her labor.  This post is dedicated to them and their eventual birth of their babies.

Today started out differently for me than most days as well.  Although I knew Hudson was awake and I could hear him fussing over the monitor, I turned the monitor off and I took a few moments for myself.  I sat on my bed, in lotus position, and I began chanting a mantra that I haven't done in almost a year - "Om Gam Ganapataye Namaha.  Om Gam Ganapataye Namaha.  Om Gam Ganapataye Namaha".  It is thought that this mantra removes life's obstacles.  I cleared my mind, and then, feeling refreshed, I went in to kiss my baby good morning.  

Moments later I got a call that a friend was in labor, but she's not dilating.  She's in a hospital, and of course, the usual routine is taking place ... pitocin, increased and spiky contractions and early talks of a cesarian section.  I've set my daily intention towards sending her my love and openness and my hope for a smooth and vaginal birth.  

Our minds are more powerful than we could ever begin to imagine.  I know that it's true, and I see evidence of this all around me, but I'm still awestruck when I hear personal stories similar to the one I heard last week about an acquaintance (I'll call her "Jessica").  

While one friend is praying that her labor progresses, another, Jessica, used her mind to virtually stop her labor.  She was 36 weeks gestation last week when she started having contractions six minutes apart.  She knew that giving birth before 37 weeks meant that she couldn't have the birth that she had been hoping for, and she literally used her mind to stop her labor. She had read many accounts of where women weren't progressing with their labor, often because of the negative energy of someone in the room or close by, and she believed that if your mind and body are so connected, she could actually do the opposite - and stop her labor.  After hours of meditating, she did just that. She went from active labor to having contractions every 30 or so minutes.  One week later, she is now 37 weeks gestation.  

As I sat down to write this post I put my headphones on and turned up the volume.  The third song to play from my iTunes library was, Forgotten Seasons - the song that Hudson was born to.  It was also the soundtrack that was playing the very first time I met Jessica.  Coincidence?  Not likely. 

For my friend who will be giving birth sometime today, Om Gam Ganapataye Namaha.  May all of your obstacles be removed and allow you a safe and enjoyable delivery.  You are about to meet the person whom you will love more than you ever imagined possible.  Today is the first day of the rest of your life.  The rest of your life will never be as it was yesterday.

For my friend "Jessica", thank you for reminding me of the strong connection between body and mind, and how powerful we all are in controlling our lives.  

Namaste. 

It's been one hell-of-a crazy week! I've had a lot of major changes this past week, both professionally and personally. And I haven't had time to blog about it. Any of it. I've stepped outside of my comfort zone, and I've realized that my experiences are never as anxiety-producing as I expect them to be. 

I got a new job last week. I have an employer and a boss.  After leaving my old firm almost four years ago I didn’t think I would ever have another boss or another employer, other than myself, but … I also have a paycheck and for that I am grateful. A paycheck gives me the freedom to do more of what I love – spending time with Hudson and coaching new moms!  I couldn’t have created a more perfect “job”. I get to work from home, three days a week.  Yep, in my pjs!  And they pay me to do it. And, I've actually really enjoyed the work this past week. 

At first the thought of getting a job felt very shackles-on. It felt like I was letting myself down, after all, I told myself that I was “done” with jobs and bosses and employers. How could I go backwards and take another job after being self-employed? What would people think? 

Then I changed my thoughts. I realized that when I attach to my stories of what it means to have a job, and remain unwilling to question whether they are true, it’s my stubborn thoughts that cause me to go backwards, not the job.  It's always my thoughts about a circumstance that get me into a tangled mess.  

I also had my first overnight away from Hudson. Yes, I know, he's one-year-old, but the first night away was scary. Or at least I told myself that it would be. That it should be. I cried at the airport and didn't want to walk away from him. I just wanted to squeeze him and sneak him into my carry-on.  (At 26 pounds, he's sort of hard to sneak anywhere.)  I made it through security, mascara running down my cheek, but I was okay. I didn't have much time as I raced to the gate, stopping only to grab a couple of trash mags and a Starbucks. 

Once I was on my flight to Virginia (for the new job) I had some liquid confidence that helped me relax and enjoy my time without baby. I had to admit, it was kinda nice getting on a flight without schlepping all of the baby gear through security.  And it was kinda nice being able to sit quietly in my seat, drink my glass of wine and not worry that Hudson was too loud or ready to get down and cruise the aisle. 

Unfortunately, my 36 hour trip away landed me in Virginia at 2am and I had to be in the office by 6am, so there was no laying in bed ordering room-service while I watched a few chick-flicks. I was going, going, going non-stop. Which was good, in a way. It occupied my mind and made me forget that I hadn't squeezed Hudson's squishy little cheeks in almost 24 hours! 

My hurried schedule distracted me until I got to the airport and was waiting for my flight home, which was of course delayed (yep, Delta - it never disappoints. It's consistent. It's always delayed). And then about three hours before my flight time I got the dreaded call. The call from Hudson's nanny letting me know that (1) Hudson had a fever of 103.7; and (2) he had been on a milky-strike since the moment I left.  Big sigh.  Okay, I more than sighed, I broke down. I was 2,000+ miles away from my sick baby and another east coast storm had just arrived. Nobody knew if or when our flight would get out. I felt totally helpless and completely out of control. Must. Get. Home. Fast. 

I've noticed that when I feel out of control, I give up even more control. I lose all control of my thoughts and feelings, surrendering up all of it. But, when I start to accept that I don't have control - when I started to accept that I may not be home to kiss Hudson that evening, and I may not be home to see his sparkling morning eyes the next morning, I felt more relaxed about all of it. I was able to take a deep breath and know that everything would be okay.  And, it was. My flight left that night and I was snuggling my little Bug before midnight!  

 

Last Monday I was driving across the Coronado bridge wondering what the @$#% I had gotten myself into.  I was on my way to day one of the Total Immersion swimming course, which I knew was going to be filled with a bunch of hot-shot swimmers who were there to shave off some time from their previous Iron Man swim.  And then there was me - never learned how to swim and don't really have a clue how to do it.  Ugh, this is going to be awful.  And embarrassing.  Is it too late to get out of it?  

Thanks to my super slow breast pump I arrived to swim class late.  Or maybe I arrived late because I was procrastinating going and looking like a complete idiot.  Either way, I walked in right after everyone had apparently introduced themselves sharing their life history of swimming experience.  My coach told me to go on ahead and jump into the pool and warm up with my freestyle stroke.  Hm, I wonder what that means!?  I guess the prudent thing to do would have been to a-s-k.  But, asking would have meant admitting that I don't know what I'm doing.  Instead, my ego landed me in the pool and I just tried to mimic the others.  The others who have been swimming their whole bloody lives.  

After a couple of laps of disastrous labored "freestyle" swimming, our lead instructor said to lineup as we were about to start the filming, which would be viewed and critiqued by all at the end of the day.  Great, I knew I should have listened to that inner voice telling me to turn the car around and head east on the bridge, back to safety.  I knew that even if I followed through and filmed my famous freestyle that I absolutely had to make up some lame excuse as to why I would have to leave class early, before we watched the film, and never come back.  The babysitter quit. That would have worked.  But, I didn't.  I stayed and watched a very painful two minutes of myself in the water.  And I watched everyone else's video as they beautifully glided through the water.  (Lesson number one, apparently swimmers move through the water, not in the water.  Bet you can't guess which one I do?!)

Despite my humiliation, I continued to show up each day and made a complete idiot out of myself.  But, each day I learned a ton about swimming and the most efficient way to get from one end of the pool to the next.  It was humbling.  And, dare I admit, fun!  (And cold. Man, was it it cold!)  I had to continue to remind myself that I'm new at this swimming stuff and it's okay to suck at it and to feel uncomfortable and awkward.  It's all part of the process.  It's not me versus them; there was no competition or judgement by my fellow swimmers.  In fact, the rest of the participants (and coaches) became my biggest fans.  They loved watching how much improvement I made from start to finish.  And it felt good.  So good.  To do something completely outside of my comfort zone and be okay with the steep learning curve.  

Being a new mom is a lot like learning how to swim.  I've never done it before now and therefore it's going to feel awkward and uncomfortable at times - like I can't breathe.  And sometimes I'm going to feel like I completely suck as a mom, but that's totally normal.  And part of the learning curve.  The good news is, just like swimming, it's not black-or-white or sink-or-swim, there's a ton of gray area.  I don't have to be a perfect mom all of the time (thank goodness since I never am), and it's okay to feel afraid sometimes.  It just means I will have more opportunities to learn.  Opportunities to learn what is causing my fears and check out whether they're even valid fears, or are they based on the silly stories that I create in my mind.  

It's okay to feel totally uncomfortable, like a fish-out-of-water, while I learn how to fill my role as a new mom.  As long as I'm willing to be wrong sometimes, and learn from those who have been doing it longer than me, I'll make it to the other side, hopefully stronger than when I first started this new journey, and certainly more graceful.  Just like gliding throuuugh the water.  One breath at a time.  One very long, deep, relaxing breath.