After loafing through the first half of this pregnancy, I am finally feeling the need to contemplate the upcoming birth.

Lately I’ve spent some time thinking about how I’ve changed over the last two and a half years. I realize now that M’s birth utterly transformed my life, and not just because I suddenly had a daughter. My entire adult life has been a quest to find myself, but a series of events triggered by her birth really pushed things into high gear. The urgency to heal was suddenly greater, so as not pass the dysfunction on to her. Then I stumbled across craniosacral therapy, and later, my homeopath/healer. All of these things completely changed the way I worked on myself, and brought me to places I previously only could have dreamed of.

I look back over the last two and a half years and see the unfolding of my Self, the learning of self-love, self-acceptance, and taking all the parts of me I had scorned and rejected and bringing them home again. I don’t fool myself by thinking this process is complete – I know damn well it will last a lifetime. But much progress has been made … more than in the previous 33+ years combined.

The most important lessons from this time all have to do with changing the way I feel about my Self; learning to trust and love my Self; getting in touch with my inner voice and having faith in it; knowing that I know my Self better than anyone else, that I have within me everything I could possibly need.

I see this upcoming birth … not exactly as a culmination of this work, since that implies an ending. No, more as a sort of fusing, blending, synthesizing of all that I’ve learned. An opportunity to truly put it to work. What greater challenge is there in life than giving birth? I can think of no other time when it is as important to truly know and trust yourself, to be open and able to hear your heart, to step forward without doubt, to have faith in your ability to be.

I see this birth as a portal, a birth for myself. A chance to take this new knowledge and embed it into the fibers of my being, to breathe it into myself, let it spiral to my core and become one with it. To truly practice it, and manifest it in physical space. Etch it into my cells.

In my mind, this birth comes down to trust. And underneath trust is love. I have done much work in these years and months, learning to love myself, and allowing the trust that flows in as a result. Trust in my wisdom. Trust in my knowledge. Trust in my intuition.

Trust.

So that is how I sum up this birth. To trust that I will know exactly what I need to do, when I need to do it. That I will know how to move, how to sound, how to be, where to put my hands, how to situate my body, when to push, when not to push. That I will trust in the process, know that it is progressing, that I’m exactly where I need to be. That I won’t need to monitor my dilation or other external signposts to tell me where I am. That I will turn inward and find there exactly what I need.

But I have birthed before, and I have an idea of what I’m getting into. It’s not that I don’t have faith in myself … I do. But I am also open to the idea that my trust might waver. Not because I will have failed myself, but because … well … things happen, and that’s just the way it is. Childbirth is intense. It hurts – usually, although I remain open to the idea that it doesn’t have to. It can be scary and overwhelming. I know that I might lose my center, that my little voice might get drowned out in the storm. And I’m okay with that. But it makes it doubly important that the people around me trust me. If I am suddenly lost at sea, I need to count on them to guide me back to myself, not take control of the boat.

My midwife was chosen for exactly this reason. I knew the first time I met her (which was a social meeting, and I was far from being pregnant at the time) that she was the right midwife for me. But I was not yet far enough in my journey to trust myself. So I told myself that I liked her, but when the time came, I would interview at least three midwives. I had to be certain. I smile about that now, and there were definitely not any other interviews. Instead I listened to my heart and didn’t dismiss it. I believed that little voice when it said, “She’s the one,” and I acted on it. Our first “official” meeting only cemented my certainty, as she told stories that demonstrated her deep-seated trust in a birthing woman, and her understanding that advice, no matter how well-meaning, can sometimes derail things. Maybe not dangerously, but still sometimes taking them to a place that is less than ideal.

Advice.

You see, I’ve been thinking a lot about advice these last few days, and what it means to give a birthing woman advice. This may sound obnoxious, but I have come to the conclusion that giving someone advice is the same as telling them “I know better than you.” That is rarely the conscious thought in the mind of the advice-giver, but it is the underlying message, nonetheless. And I think of how it might feel, tossed on the stormy seas of birth, wavering in my trust, doubt creeping in like water into a leaky boat, and looking to those around me for help. Do I want advice? Do I honestly think someone knows better than me? The answer is no. If so, that would imply I do not have faith in my ability to do this, that I need someone else to take control, when nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, it is in direct opposition to all of the work I’ve done, in direct opposition to everything I feel this birth is about. That is what I mean when I say I need to count on those around me to direct me back to myself. To resist the impulse to tell me what they think is best, no matter how well-intentioned they may be. To trust that I know. I may have forgotten I know, but I still know. All they need to do is remind me. Take me gently by the shoulders, turn me inward and whisper in my ear … trust yourself.

That is the lesson of this birth … this entire pregnancy. It is why this child has come to me – to help me remember who I am.

Not to say that advice, direction, instruction isn’t sometimes needed. And that is exactly why I hired a midwife in the first place. If my life or the life of my baby is in danger, I want someone there who can identify that, knows what to do, knows how to help me. But I need to trust that this person will not interfere with my birth unless it is truly warranted (or requested). Which is why I chose the midwife I chose … because I trust her to do this. If she opens her mouth and starts telling me what to do, I will know there is a damn good reason for it, and I will do what she says. I also know that if I ask for her help, for whatever reason, she will be there for me.

I also understand that not all births should go this way, hinging solely on the shoulders of the mother. My last birth didn’t, and I honestly don’t think it could have. How could I have asked others to direct me back to myself if I didn’t trust myself to begin with? I could not have chosen other people to surround me, or manipulated external factors to bring me to where I am today. I am here as the result of a lot of time, experience and hard work – work that brings great joy to my life, but is a conscious effort nonetheless. I hadn’t done this work yet when I had M, and I therefore leaned heavily on others to guide me and tell me what to do. It was what I needed at that particular time, although it is not what I need now. Which is why I have chosen a different kind of birth and different care providers this time around.

I look some fifteen-odd weeks into the future, and see myself bringing this child into the world surrounded by an aura of trust and love, generated by myself, for myself. And around that is yet another circle of trust, held there by the people invited to be at my birth. They are there to hold me fast and help me find myself again should I stumble or get lost along the way.

I have been wondering what I “needed” to do to prepare for this birth, and now I know. I simply continue with the work I am already doing, healing my Self, and cultivating that self-trust and love. The rest will fall into place.