Hypnobirthing classes in York

If someone had said to me 7 years ago that I would one day be writing about what my birth trauma gifted me – I probably would’ve wanted to punch them in the face.

Tomorrow my first baby turns 7. He is kind, beautiful, sensitive and gentle and is a constant, living, breathing symbol of what love created and what love can help us endure.

Noah was birthed in to a crowded, brightly lit room at 17:57pm on a Autumn Tuesday with the aid of forceps.

Whilst this was a far cry from the birth I had envisioned, like I imagine most mothers’ in those frantic moments – I would have agreed to anything to keep him safe.

As I laid flat on my back, numb from the waist down – legs akimbo, like heavy, lifeless planks resting in stirrups with a flurry of action happening all around me I remember thinking,

‘how the fuck have I ended up here’.

Moments that felt like an eternity later, someone finally laid Noah’s little body alongside mine on the bed and I remember his little eye was closed and sore from where the f...

I woke up this morning and gazed up at the beautiful belly cast that is fixed to my bedroom wall. It’s my son’s 7th Birthday in four days and has been a time of reflection about our story and as I've written about here - the feelings I was left with after my second birth. 

When it comes to pregnancy and birth, my experience is that every woman has a story to tell; sometimes it’s about the journey to conception, others have a strong story about their own entry in to the world or it might be about the lived experience of giving birth; whatever it is, it’s unique and it’s yours.

Weaved within our own stories, we carry other peoples too; these tales might be right at the very surface of our conscious mind, but more often than not, stories about birth and motherhood are buried much deeper.

And like anything, the obvious stories and memories are much easier to make sense of, however, there are subtleties that we pick up from all sorts of sources which influence our feelings and are far less obv...

So I finally went to see Bridget Jones’ Baby this weekend and I was not disappointed until...well the birth!

And actually, not just the birth disappointed me, but it highlighted so many things that really piss me off about women having babies beyond a certain age.

Geriatric Mother...REALLY?

I mean is there ever an age where geriatric sounds nice, but especially in reference to a pregnant goddess growing and nurturing another little human?!

I remember when a close friend of mine was having a baby and it was the first time I’d heard such a term - I seriously thought she was joking.

But to be honest it does add to collection of  the many shitty words that are commonplace when discussing pregnancy and birth.

What I’ve realised over the course of teaching Hypnobirthing is you can’t teach this without becoming really bloody tuned in to birth – EVERYWHERE.

So when it came to the sudden and dramatic scenes of Bridget’s labour starting to her lay on her back screaming – to say I was disappointed would...

Hypnobirthing is an investment – whichever way you do it.  

So when I was recently tagged in a post about hypnobirthing on a facebook Mum’s group, I found myself thinking a lot more about both my own value and yours too!

I find the price wars deeply uncomfortable and it's sometimes hard to really articulate the value of hypnobirthing among the posts which sometimes feel like the 'hard sell'. 

With this said, I'm always so grateful to be tagged and I also know it’s a brilliant platform for Mum’s to find out info and most importantly to get a real flavour for the many options available. 

Beyond a quick hello though, I normally duck out quite quickly because my instinct is that if I’m the right person for you and you are for me – then you will pick up the phone and call me or drop me a text and we can chat.

On this occasion though this latest post got my goat a little and initially I wasn't sure why. 

It wasn't down to the usual price war shit, which is no different to other things I guess...