Hindsight is sometimes a dark place to look back on my healing journey from the traumatic experience I had birthing Bodhi. But it can also be a lovely, lofty place that allows me clarity and perspective.

One thing I can see in hindsight is a clear journey. Whilst it has not always felt clear, from the present moment, I can see the path that has unfolded for me, like a lotus flower gently opening until it reaches full bloom (the exciting thing being, I don’t believe I have reached “full bloom” yet).

Within this path, I can see stages and milestones that I have passed. I haven’t always realised it at the time, but there have been shifts in my focus, behavior, cognitions and feelings during the journey, that have resulted in a shift in psyche affecting my whole life and self.

The first stage was that of “support”. This was the first six or so weeks after the birth. I was heavily traumatised, moving from numbness and defeatedness to high anxiety. I needed assistance to carry out not only mothering activities that were new to me, but even basic daily tasks. I desperately searched for support where ever I could get it, and sadly not always found it. It was an incredibly isolating time. So support not only refers to the predominant need I had, but also to the major task I had in this stage.

Finding the support- by convincing my husband just how broken I was, from a child and family health nurse, from some friends, and most importantly, my mother (I had very rarely confided in her on this level and the trust it took me to do this was immense considering the trust in others that had been broken by the birth event). Having surrounded myself with support, I was able to move onto healing in the security that others were with me.

That one was a palpable shift: having told my mother about the PTSD, and having been accepted and nurtured, I felt my self releeeeeeeeeaaaaaase all the anxiety and feel safe and a little understood for the first time in weeks. It was a much lighter feeling, and restful, and peaceful. The pain was still there; but I wasn’t alone.

The healing stage was less defined. This and the next stage- growth- ran separate at times, together at times, and wove together in a strong and vibrant way. However, I wasn’t able to grow until I started to heal.

In some ways, I am still healing. The pain and trauma comes and goes, and mainly I manage it well. It was learning to manage it well that was my task here, to express all the hurt and anger and guilt in an adaptive and productive way, and to seek a wider perspective on my experience. I was no longer immobilised by my trauma, and this was the stage that all the painful, hard, messy work was done.

This was the stage of counselling sessions, of many many debriefing talks with my husband, for a focus on bonding with my precious little child, and for surrounding myself in the stories of others, too. It was working with and through the pain. During this time I founded Birth Healing, and that too was an outlet for my pain. It started with absolutist, black and white feeling, and ended with being able to see shades of grey.

I started to see colours when I reached the growth stage. This was when I was able to take what had happened to me and turn it into something positive. I created Birth Healing, and invited other women to be nurtured and heal and grow, though perhaps I didn’t understand it all at that point. I came to see that Bodhi’s birth gifted me with a ferociousness of spirit, of strength, of a deeper self love and need for self nurture. I no longer needed to separate myself and my trauma. I was able to integrate this experience into my self, and as such, grew into the ‘completeless’ of me in the moment. I continue to ‘grow complete’ with each day, and without the traumatic experience of Bodhi’s birth, I would lack a vital part of my identity. There were many positives to be found, and coming across each of them has been a delight and a special gift from the universe. The pain is still there, but it doesn’t rule me. I rule it, and use it.

The fourth stage- my predominant one at the moment- is action. Despite the gifts my particular experience has given me, I can see that so much of the pain I experienced can be avoided. I see fundamental flaws in the way birthing is seen in our society- not only in the medicalisation of birth, but also the lack of understanding of what women and birth need, and importantly, how to support a birthing woman and baby in birth and babymoon, and I want to be part of the groundswell to bring birth into a more revered and respected place. I can feel so much energy related to birth, humming in the earth, in mamas and families worldwide, and this energy sustains me and all other birth activists (whether they are lobbying for birth reform, or more importantly, choosing peaceful birth options) and will eventually see birth overtake us all and be that revered, natural, wonderful ritual that we have lost.

I thought this stage would be full of anger, but it hasn’t been. Every time I uncover a new bit of information, a new perspective, a wise woman with lessons, or am surrounded by other birth-nurturers, I am filled with peace and inspiration and new determination. Sometimes I am angry, but it is an energetic anger directed at bringing about a powerful and wonderful goal.

These stages are not, as I have already said, mutually exclusive. I have experienced them all, have jumped back and forth between them, been in two or more of them at once. It’s a piece of art in itself. I do, however, belive I had to experience support before healing, healing before growth, and growth before action.

One goal I have, is to investigate whether other women have a similar pattern of recovery after traumatic birth experiences. Or, more accurately, I would like to help others be able to look back on thier journey (on the path, for it is a path we will always walk) and be able to see the beautiful tapestry behind them, to hold their pain, bless it, and walk on.