It is worth returning here to what we explored in Chapter 4, looking to see how each one of the four foundations applies to this situation: an appreciation of precious human life – the ability to bring another human being into the world is an incredible gift, something to be deeply grateful for; impermanence – life changes all the time and, for the next three quarters of a year, your body will alter month by month, week by week, day by day; cause and effect – you are here, planned or unplanned, due to your own actions or duff equipment; and suffering – in the days ahead, there will be some discomfort, but there will also be joy. The challenge now is to take the journey step by step, moment by moment, with a sense of gentle purpose and a calm mind that is at ease with itself.
Like most parents, I remember vividly where I was the day my entire world changed. It was 6am on a cold, dark London morning. Lucinda and I were back from LA, visiting our respective families for Christmas. We were staying in Notting Hill at the flat of a friend who had kindly let us have the run of the place while she was out of town.
On this particular December morning, my taxi had been booked and was due within fifteen minutes to take me to Heathrow. Lucinda was heading off to visit her parents and, in the back of my mind, I remembered our conversation the previous day before dinner. She had been out running – my wife would pound the pavements and run for miles whenever she got the chance – and had noticed that her breasts were more tender and that she ‘felt different’. Her intuition told her that she might be pregnant.
‘Are you sure?’ I had said. Just five months earlier, we had been sitting inside a sperm bank, ahead of me having the operation for testicular cancer, wondering if we’d ever be able to have kids at all.
At the time it was hard to imagine there ever being space for a baby: we had recently moved to California, I’d just had cancer, Headspace was growing by the day, we had team members relocating from the UK and a travel schedule which made me wince. So, as much as I felt a huge amount of responsibility to my wife, I also felt responsibility for the team. In short, the plate was pretty full.
But it turns out that there was room for a little bit of gravy.
I was sitting on the end of the bed, tying my shoelaces, when I noticed Lucinda standing there – the bright bathroom lights turning her into a silhouette in the doorway.
‘It’s blue,’ she said, holding out the pregnancy-testing stick in her hand.
I don’t remember her saying anything after that. I just remember her coming over and hugging me in what was an incredibly emotional moment for us both.
Once she and I had dried our eyes, we realised that we only had about ten minutes left before my taxi arrived. Ten minutes together to share, process and quickly discuss this monumental news before I was out of the door and gone for a week. Then she’d be alone with the news, keeping it to herself because we had agreed that if there was any news, we would hold off telling our families until Christmas Day. I flew off to I can’t remember where, with my mind in some kind of paralysis. It was quiet rather than spinning – almost in a state of suspended disbelief. If any thought lodged in my mind, it was the one that contemplated Lucinda being on her own in the UK without me there to offer support.
Meanwhile, her mind, as she would tell me later, was off the charts, visiting every possible destination in the future. Oh, God, how are we going to do this? and How am I going to go through this in LA, without my family? and Where am I going to find a doctor? and Are we really going to be able to afford this? and so on and so forth. And this is one of the tougher mental challenges at such times: how to stay present when the mind wants nothing more than to jump ahead.
STAYING IN THE MOMENT
The mind can be erratic at the best of times, but the news of a pregnancy will affect its propensity to career around like nothing else. Whether that means looking to the past (family health issues, old magazine articles, birthing horror stories or the bottle of wine you drank last week) or jumping to the future (organising, planning and anticipating everything up until your – as yet unborn – child’s eighteenth birthday party). Left unattended and approached unskilfully, the questions, checklists and concerns will arrive like incoming planes at the world’s busiest airport, leaving the mind stacked with thoughts.
I’m not suggesting we repress or dismiss what arises in the mind – this is not the approach of mindfulness. What I am suggesting is that we are fully conscious of what arises, avoiding the temptation to get sucked into an endless spiral of thinking, or swept away by the overwhelming emotions. Where the partner is concerned, and especially in those cases where the pregnancy is unplanned, Dr Amersi encourages the men to be with their mixed feelings away from the mother at first. ‘Instead, remain supportive because, out of all the times, this is where the partner’s emotional strength is needed.’
I have included an exercise at the back of the book (see here–here) that addresses the moment when the news is received, and which will help you to stay grounded at this head-spinning time. Instead of being so reactive, we see a thought arise, we acknowledge it and learn to let it go. Rather than fuelling emotions with yet more thinking, we instead learn to feel them as they wash over us, neither trying to encourage or resist their journey, simply letting nature take its course as we watch them pass by.
While I would never say that mindfulness makes this process easy, I know from my own experience, and that of many others, that at the time of hearing the news, the practice of meditation and the application of mindfulness can make the world of difference. I can only imagine what my mind would have been like without this support; for that reason alone I cannot recommend it enough. Even then, I still found thoughts popping up every now and then. Will Lucinda be OK in childbirth? Will the baby survive? Will I faint in the hospital? But rather than making me feel more stressed, that increased sense of perspective made me smile at my thoughts instead.
To begin with, as you embark on a mindful pregnancy, the untrained mind will want to dart all over the place. The reason it reacts in this way is because the news suddenly transports you from a place of security to insecurity, from certainty to uncertainty and from knowing to not knowing. Disconnected from reality, the mind conjures up concepts to help reason with the unknown. If you are one of those people who needs to know what is going to happen, you will already be able to associate with this feeling. It’s almost as if the mind would rather focus on the fear and worry in a hypothetical future than face the void and uncertainty in the here and now; it would rather be caught up in the restlessness and chatter of inner dialogue than kick back and relax with nothing to do. But when you train the mind a little bit, you see the trickery, you see the illusions, you see the games that you have been playing, albeit unintentionally, with yourself your entire life.
This brings me to an important question that gets asked a lot on the Headspace community pages: ‘How do we plan for the future while staying in the present?’
To be clear then: thinking is not a bad thing.
There is productive thinking and unproductive thinking. There is thinking that allows us to feel more at ease and confident as to where we are going; conversely, there is thinking we are mostly ignorant of, that leads us to get caught up in everything. So the key is to think ahead with awareness, while staying in the present.
For example, we can sit here and think, OK, so this is happening, what do we need to do? In that pragmatic sense, we are conscious of our intention, motivation and practical needs. That’s very different from sitting on the loo and allowing the mind to drift into the future; and then, while making a cup of tea twenty minutes later, still being locked in that same thought stream; and, another half an hour later, being slouched on the sofa, looking at the TV, but not watching it, because the imagined future is still churning away, leaving us in a trance. In no way can this be considered productive or helpful.
This unproductive thinking comes from a place of chaos, even in the most relaxing situations. Because of this chaos, there is no clarit
y, and therefore our ability to make decisions is impaired. In contrast, productive thinking comes from a place of calm, even in the most difficult of situations. Because of that calm, there is clarity of thought and, therefore, a sense of perspective and better decision-making ability. This clarity also provides us with a feeling of contentedness; and it is that sense of contentment that gives us the mental space to be just as concerned for the happiness of others, as we are for our own, otherwise known as compassion. Remember the four Cs: calm, clarity, contentment and compassion.
The beauty of pregnancy is the fact that there is a relatively long period of time to train the mind; a chance to treat our head right, reassess and readjust. This is the purpose of the Meditation Exercises at the back of the book and the programmes we offer at Headspace. Of course, how we adjust, and how easily we let go, is largely down to how much we try and hold on to our old life, our ideas about how we believe things should be and quite possibly our entire sense of identity and self.
A SENSE OF IDENTITY
Who we think we are, and how we want others to see us, are a pretty big deal when it comes to pregnancy, because this joyous news, this natural biological function, can play mayhem with our sense of identity. It yanks at the roots of our self-image, a whole lifetime in creation. It also redefines how others might see us from hereon in, forever to be a mum, a dad, a parent – all those things that once seemed to belong to those older folk like … well, our mums, our dads.
There will be many people for whom parenthood has been a lifelong ambition, and they may well embrace this new-found identity with nothing but glee: this is what they wanted; this is where they wanted to be. But just as likely, there will be women – with equal motivation to become a mother – who find this new label and role to be inexplicably challenging to the ego, to the point that the sense of shock can be quite profound. Again, there are nine months to get used to the idea but, for some, even that is not long enough.
And this should really come as no surprise. From the earliest age, we begin to establish a sense of self – an individuality as someone separate from our parents and the world around us. As we get older, this developing persona is projected to the outside world; if the world reflects back its approval (or disapproval if that’s what we’re seeking), this identity is reinforced and we tend to cherish it somewhat, further projecting that image into the world. Needless to say, if our projection does not work quite as planned (think back to that purple hair in your teens or the nose ring at uni), then we might tweak that image until we get to something that both we and those around us find a little more comfortable.
Identity is the coming together of many ideas, accrued over many years, which we hold dear. But we are not what we do, what we say or even what we think. These things may well define our experience of life, and provide us with an identity that instils stability and our place in the world, but they should not, and do not, define us.
Not surprisingly this clash of identities tends to occur primarily, but by no means exclusively, in the mother – all the more so if she is particularly driven in her career and life. In the swirl of change, she can understandably feel lost or disillusioned, convinced she is giving up a part of herself, including her body.
At any point during pregnancy or early parenthood, a mother may well find herself asking, ‘Who am I?’ or ‘Is this it – is this my life now?’ Indeed, many women can feel so out of alignment with how they envisaged life to be that depression takes hold. When that deep sadness kicks in, they not only feel disconnected from themselves, but also their partner, and a vicious circle begins. So many women I’ve spoken to about this say they feel unable to express this sentiment when everyone around them is saying how happy they are for them, and when the expectation is to experience joy. If this sounds like you, then please be reassured that this is incredibly common, and you are by no means alone.
Now would be a good time to come back to that idea of impermanence, moving from a place of concept to experience, feeling that change, rather than just thinking about it. Things are constantly changing, nothing stays the same. In truth, our identity has always been evolving, shifting from one moment to the next, it’s just that it has perhaps never taken such a monumental leap before. And it will continue to change long after the pregnancy. This is not goodbye to who you once were, nor is it goodbye to who you may have imagined yourself to be in the future. This is simply one more change in an ever-evolving process. But more than that, it is a radical opportunity to set yourself free from the limitations of identity altogether, to let go of labels, to embrace uncertainty and instead simply be present in each unfolding moment.
THE AVALANCHE OF ADVICE
It seems common these days for most couples to wait until the twelfth week of pregnancy before sharing their news, but be warned that when you finally do let the cat out of the bag, you are likely to be confronted by an avalanche of (albeit well-intentioned) advice. Whenever you announce the news, whatever trimester you are in – and even if your baby has already been born – you will discover everyone has an opinion. If the countless how-to guides don’t overwhelm you, then the armchair experts most likely will. Just as you are trying to adjust in your own time and space, different people – sometimes strangers in the supermarket – will chip in with various tips and pearls of wisdom, often unsolicited. This welter of advice is inevitable, and resisting it is futile; much better to understand what’s going on and find a healthy way of meeting it head on.
More often than not, what people are actually doing is projecting their own experience on to you – saying what it was like for them (the past) and suggesting what you’ll discover (the future) based on their knowledge. No doubt, these people have your best interests at heart, but what is so often forgotten is that the advice is based on another mother, another father, another baby, from another time and in another place. There are just so many variables, it is hard to compare to your own, unique, unfolding experience. That’s not to say there won’t be some great advice in there which may well prove helpful, but much of it can feel overwhelming. The skilful way to handle it is to accept the reality and know that the intention is good, cherry picking what’s helpful to you, and then letting the rest go. The alternative is to become caught up with thoughts such as, Why do they keep saying that to me – does she think I’m stupid? Or Don’t they think I can cope? Or Why does he have to keep interfering?
Remember, this is the skill of mindfulness: a thought arises, we either see it clearly or we don’t; if we do not, then we are likely to begin an inner dialogue which could go on for days. But if we do, we have a golden opportunity to let it go, to come back to whatever we were doing at the time. It is a virtuous circle of calm and clarity, where each encourages the other. In this space, advice is not felt as obtrusive, but rather experienced as kindness.
So, here you are – you’ve received the news, and you’ll become better at handling the advice of others as and when it arrives. The intention now is to give yourself, your child, and your family the gift of a mindful pregnancy. In the next chapter, we will look at each trimester and the particular challenges that the mind may present. But before that, I thought it best to end this section with a word from our obstetrician, Dr Amersi, because she sees first-hand, on a daily basis, the huge difference mindfulness can make. Her advice is straightforward:
Focus on creating the mental space for you, for quality naps and for doing nothing. Prepare for the birth by making yourself emotionally healthy, being mindful not just in the outer details of pregnancy planning, but with the inner preparation, too. Spend time honouring all your feelings. The darkness is something you will feel – know that’s normal. As long as you create space for the quiet, it will help the shadows fade into the background of your mind and heart. Embrace mindful relationships with your partner, your family, your caregiver – make them aware that you need help and support. Most of all, embrace the imperfections, because it is the race for perfection that can mar so many pregnancies. Use t
he tools and guidance in this book to decrease the unnecessary noise and fear in your head. Keep this book close. Keep things simple. And enjoy what is to come …
A MOTHER’S STORY: Siobhan, aged thirty-four
For many, it has taken some time and heartache; for others, it happens without planning or even realising. For me, discovering I was pregnant was quite simply the most beautiful and magical feeling in the world. The news is, of course, incredible. However, as women, I think we are almost genetically predisposed to prepare ourselves for all outcomes. Rather than shout it from the rooftops – as our partners very often want to do – my husband and I wanted to wait until the twelve-week mark, so as to not tempt any type of fate. Therefore, those initial weeks of pregnancy are a juxtaposition of sheer joy, excitement and elation, along with a little fear and anxiety that you and your partner are holding on to the biggest secret of your lives. It’s a surreal time.
My body felt no different. Aside from one day when I woke up feeling a little queasy, I felt absolutely normal. But mentally, I was in an amazing space of discovery. As a newcomer to mindfulness, I found it (in combination with the yoga I did every week) to be a calming influence, keeping me steady. Inevitably, my mind leapt ahead as I read everything I could about pregnancy, all the while feeling honoured and blessed to have been given the opportunity to nurture a little being in my body. Almost straight away, I felt my maternal emotions kick in and felt fiercely protective and, from that day forward, I made sure I remained mindful of what I ate and how I exercised. Interestingly, from the moment we received the news, I believed it to be so important to feel calm, strong and happy, because I knew those vibes of strength and happiness directly shaped the wellbeing of my baby. Nothing concentrates the mind more than that realisation.
The Headspace Guide To A Mindful Pregnancy Page 8
