Mommy's Time Out Magazine March 2019 - Page 23



to be in my own home, getting into my own bed and as I got comfortable, I looked over to where our suitcase was packed and ready to go should we have needed to transfer to a hospital, and I breathed a major sigh of relief. The next sigh of relief came when I found out that not only did I not tear- which I was terrified of, I also did not poop in the tub. Phew! The whole birth experience had gone exactly as I had hoped. It was more pain that I ever imagined I could take, but it was also the most truly incredible experience I’ve ever had. Looking back now, I am able to recall the amount of pain I felt, but I’m not able to re-feel it, and for that I am very pleased. There is no question in my mind that if I ever have another baby, I would want to do it the same way again. I felt so proud of myself. So capable. So alive. So impressed with my body and mind’s ability to do what I needed to do without the help of surgical instruments, drugs, or any medical intervention.

I had prepared so many wonderful calming mantras and ideas in the weeks leading up to labor that I intended to recall and replay, but when it came down to it, they all went out the window. I was unable to call up any of the planning I’d done, and was only able to go into a primal place. One of the things I really thought would get me through was the fact that I’d completed 3 half-marathons, something I never imagined I

was capable of the first time- let alone 2 more times after that. I figured I’d be able to tap into that determination to push when I felt spent, and to keep my eye on the baby steps that help me to reach a finish line. When it came down to it, I never once thought about that and when Gabriel tried to bring it up, I pretty much dismissed it and couldn’t find that place of parallel for inspiration. The phrase that had really spoken to me throughout all of the reading I’d done was one from Ina May Gaskin, “channel the monkey”...which I’d converted to “channel the animal”, and that, along with a point I’d learned in prenatal yoga and childbirth classes about keeping my jaw open and loose and my moaning tones low-pitched were really the only tools I was able to hold onto. I had a wonderful playlist on my ipod, candles burning, and essential oils in the diffuser. I had dim lights and a team of experts who was there purely to make sure that I was cared for and attended to. I had a husband who breathed with me and reminded me constantly that my body was made to do this. None of that was anything more than a dizzying blur. It was all thought out with the best of intentions, but when it came down to it, it was baby Quinn, the bathtub, and me.

Carey Yaruss Sanders is a voice teacher/vocalist who moved from NYC to LWR to start her family. She is passionate about yoga and spending time outdoors, and grateful for her friendships with other bright, strong-minded, confident mothers. She has 2 adorable girls, Quinn and Dorian, and a husband who is truly the best husband and father imaginable. She’s delighted to be a contributor to the newsletter!