Last night Peter and I watched a sample birthing class where the instructor taught a hypnobirthing technique for pain management. I am considering a natural birth because of my fear of needles (and forget about needles in my freaking spine!), so I have been watching a lot of birthing stories and reading a lot of blog posts about how to cope with a natural birth. Ironically, what I have found has not inspired a lot of self-confidence.
On Sunday, Peter and I also attempted a 60 second cold shower on the advice of Dr. Andrew Huberman and I was appalled by how challenging that was for me. I joked before I got in that this would be a coaching tool for natural birth, practicing relaxing through discomfort for the approximate duration of a contraction. I regretted drawing the comparison almost immediately. I finished the 60 seconds feeling demoralized. It was so hard! And that was only cold! Not pain!
So when our birthing class instructor told us to grab some ice, I knew what was coming. As I squeezed the ice cube in my palm, I did my best to go to Station 18 1/2 at Sullivan's Island beach. I tried to remember dodging the jellyfish as I ran, I tried to remember watching the freight coming in and out of the harbor, I tried to remember sitting in the shallows while it thundered and lightning, I tried to remember hiding my frose in the sand . . . but I couldn't go there. I was sitting on my couch with little stabs of cold shooting up my arm. Meanwhile Peter was on the side of me radiating bliss. "I'm in Hawaii!"
It's been a while since I have embraced physical discomfort. Marathon training is a well I go back to as I try to hype myself up for what my body can do, but the truth is that it's been months since I've been on a really good run. Even the road race we did last spring was a struggle, not triumphant. The nausea of the first trimester felt intolerable, unbearable--I slept during the day, something I hate doing, just to get some escape from it. I even stopped taking the stairs! (I am back on my stairs-only wagon now, but it is so much harder than it once was!)
I feel like a weaker, softer version of myself. I don't think of myself as a mentally tough or particularly disciplined person, but I thought I was stronger than this! I thought I could power through the feeling of my body quitting on me, but I remember that it took two marathons, not one, and hours and hours of training to be fit enough to do that, and it was still really, really hard. I used to be able to smell the salt coming off Shem's Creek and the sugar drifting out of the praline shop, but now when I need those memories, they are out of reach and all that is in front of me is the unpleasantness, discomfort, and pain.
And if you are thinking I sound dramatic right now, I would tell you I am not being dramatic enough. If I feel this way now, how am I supposed to handle it when I actually do feel like my insides are being ripped apart??? Feels like it might be more realistic to mentally train to cope with an epidural than mentally train to cope with a natural labor.
The one thing that comforts me: I still have time to prepare. I have time to prepare my body physically with walking, and stairs, and strength training, and endurance training, and raspberry leaf tea. I have time to prepare my mind to focus on the beach instead of the contractions. I can learn all the Lamaze breaths and the other hypnobirthing strategies and maybe even successfully meditate. I think I have a lot of cold showers ahead of me. (Today I cheated and only put my legs and arms in, and it STILL hurt!)
I tell myself this decision is about my fear of needles, but I think it is also about my desire to challenge myself, to feel accomplished. Of course, I think I will feel accomplished whichever way this baby gets out of me. I already feel accomplished. Hayley 10 years ago thought she would never be able to tolerate the discomfort and indignities of hosting a person inside her body. Yet here I am. And Hayley of 10 years ago is still with me in this ethos of chose the hard thing.
