Birth is an experience that changes you irrevocably, and the stories that accompany each birth are just as unique and different as our little humans.
You have probably heard the wise old adage that when a woman labours, she not only births her baby into the world, she also births the mother within. The person you were before your baby arrived is still there, of course, but she’s transformed. Your eyes now hold new depth and meaning. Your body is now acutely attuned to nurturing another being. Your heart is fiercely protective. And your priorities are flipped inside and out, and then tumbled upside down. Well that’s certainly been my experience, and to be honest, I’m still on that wild ride of self-discovery three years later.
Talking with Sophie Walker, mother of three from Melbourne and the host and founder of highly acclaimed podcast, Australian Birth Stories, it’s clear that the story of your child’s entrance into the world is forever etched in your psyche. Some require unpacking and further understanding, others unfold with ease and calm. Some may trigger trauma and vulnerabilities, and then others leave you feeling unsure of what to feel. Birth is a sacred rite of passage that changes you, irrevocably, without a doubt, and the stories that accompany each birth are just as unique and different as your little humans.
“Motherhood may be celebrated in our culture, but it’s not always respected,” Walker shares. “We’re expected to be so many things and to do it all and it’s hard. I think many women enjoy sharing their birth stories because they reflect on their transformation; the surrender, the letting go, the fear, the trust and the overwhelm. How can you not be changed by such an experience? And how do you embrace your new life without entirely letting go of your old one? It’s tricky and I think we all do it, in our own way. We’ve all got divided hearts and we’re all trying to find the balance between the women we were and the mothers we have become.”
When Sophie fell pregnant with her first son, Niko, she delved deeply into research. However, following almost 36 hours of labour, she experienced a whole gamut of intervention, including induction, epidural, episiotomy, and forceps. While she had birthed her beautiful baby, she suffered a postpartum haemorrhage and was left with an overwhelming sense of trauma – both physical and emotional. Upon falling pregnant with her second son, Louis, she realised that facts would only get her so far. “I needed birth skills to experience the birth I desired so delved into the birth world and found myself listening to podcasts on anything birth related. Louis’ birth was a beautiful one and it inspired me to create Australian Birth Stories.” With a library of more than 250 interviews now, and over five million downloads and counting, the podcast has evolved into the invaluable resource Sophie wished she had when preparing for Niko’s arrival.
“I think we’re missing the stories that used to be passed down from one generation to the next, hence, many women go into birth without that awareness or support, and the results are alarming. Over 95 percent of Australian women will birth in the hospital system and one-third of those women will return home with birth trauma. By sharing our stories, we’re given the space to grieve and then heal. Also, when we listen to stories where a woman has done the research and got informed, embraced her pregnancy and learnt to trust her body, surrounded herself with supportive caregivers and understood the importance of advocating for herself, no matter the circumstances, we see that births – all kinds of birth – can be wonderful, positive experiences. Information is power and there’s no better way to share it than with stories.”
Just as important as the birth of your baby are the three months that follow, the fourth trimester, when the mother is invited to find her groove in this brand-new world, whether with her first baby or one of many. I’ve turned to the sage words of Heng Ou in The First Forty Days countless times over the years (my copy is dog-eared, foot-noted and lovingly highlighted). A Chinese-American mother of three and founder of MotherBees, a postpartum food delivery service based in Los Angeles, Heng talks of laying the groundwork for a healthy and happy postpartum period as deliberately as you prepared for pregnancy and birth.
“Pretty much everyone experiences how the first 40 days are inherently imperfect, rife with confusing and clumsy moments, dotted with messy and awkward parts, and sometimes even streaked with melancholy. If you can create space for the ups and downs, including challenging feelings, and if you can do just a few small things to take good care of yourself during this time, you can help to create the conditions recommended by the old wise ones. You can enjoy a safe, supportive, healing environment that benefits mother and baby today and in the future, and practise staying connected to yourself, even while taking care of another.”
Sophie whole-heartedly agrees: “There’s so much to navigate in the fourth trimester – healing from birth, breastfeeding, decoding your baby’s cries, dealing with sleep deprivation. If a woman understands the enormity of that season, she’s more likely to prepare for it. She may plan to spend the first few weeks resting in bed. She may opt to have no visitors so she can stay in bed with her top off and have skin-to-skin with her baby, which benefits their breastfeeding rhythm. She may ask friends and family for homemade meals instead of baby gifts to fill her freezer, and ensure her nest is cosy with no obligations outside of the home.
“Our society celebrates getting out and about after birth; new success as a mother is often defined by making it out of the house, make-up on and back in our pre-pregnancy clothes. This is unrealistic and frankly, unhealthy. If women understand the importance of healing from birth and embracing slow days with their baby, they’re more likely to experience a gentle fourth trimester, which will leave them energised and prepared for the first year.”
I think we’re in the middle of a grand rethinking about how we birth and how we mother, and how it’s a privilege to be a part of this change. In the absence of the traditional village, we are creating ways of connecting and passing on our personal stories to empower our births and enrich our experiences of mothering our little ones, by both honouring our past and generously caring for our future. And I’m all for that.
