The hopes of a lioness - Day 24

24th December 2018 (Christmas Eve)

24 is the number of karats (k) in pure gold (the gold content is as close to 100% as is possible).
If you split the content of the metal into parts all 24 parts are gold, whereas 9k gold objects are
9/24 ratio of gold to other metals. Gold is very soft and hence it is usually mixed with copper or
silver to add strength so that it can be used for jewelry or intricate objects. 24K gold is used
in electronics and medical devices such as those used for children suffering from ear infections who
are fitted with gold tympanostomy tubes that are known to improve aeration of the middle ear.

Today I am going with my mother and a friend to the panto (oh yes we are) - I hope we all enjoy it. It seems a suitably festive thing to do on Christmas Eve. Then I must drive back to London and I am greatly looking forward to having supper with my goddaughter and her family - to me the Christmas period is about love and sharing.

The Christmas Eve post, a piece of pure gold writing shining with love, is by Tamasin Sutton. She is an HR consultant, currently based in the North East of England. She specialises in supporting technology businesses. He company is TSHR Limited. She is an effective, pragmatic and experienced professional who is qualified in the use of various psychometric tools, as well as being an NVQ assessor with the PTTLS qualification. She co-founded Connecting HR Northeast in 2017 and works hard to bring together and develop the capabilities of the HR profession and the people within it - she is a Facilitator with Developing People Globally (DPG) supporting and assessing those studying for the CIPD Level 5 qualifications.

Tamasin is active on social media - you can follow her on Twitter (her handle is @TamasinS). To relax, Tamasin enjoys travelling, but she is happy to unwind with a gin and a chat. She is supportive within her wider community and is a school governor  for  primary school. However, as you will read, the most vital part of her life is being a devoted and passionate mother.

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This is my 3rd year of contributing to the Advent blogs, and the 3rd year I have indulged in being vulnerable to whoever reads these words. 

It's like therapy, something I dread, yet I feel strangely at peace when I have purged.

This time last year I was desperate to get out of hospital with my newborn little girl, and 4 days ago, she turned 1. When I reflect on this year, I feel overwhelmed. It has been unbelievably hard in so many ways. Motherhood is hard. I'm not a natural, not one of those earth mother types who gush about the joys of maternity leave and every day they spend with their precious mini me. But I have found my way, through sleep deprivation, difficulty breastfeeding, struggling to continue working and sometimes receiving lacklustre support of my choices. It's been hard. I think I lost myself, and I'm not back yet, despite my first KIT day being when she was 3 weeks old.  It's sometimes frowned upon to be so honest about the impact that childbirth and becoming a mother can have. I spent 40 years being, well, selfish. I could do as I pleased and enjoyed the flexibility that being child free afforded me. I didn't always fully empathise with the struggles that other carers had, but boy do I get it now. 

I feel my identity is a little blurred around the edges. I see it not just through my own eyes, but through the eyes of people close to me. Who am I and what do I want to be? I'm at odd's and in some distant way my heart aches for the life I used to have and I realise that I am trying to mourn. But my heart would break immeasurably if I couldn't see my beautiful daughter's smile, if I couldn't hold her and keep putting her unicorn furry hat back on even though she relentlessly removes it..... She gives me hope.

And I have dark thoughts. Consuming ones where my daughter comes to harm. What the hell is wrong with me?! It terrifies me. I cry, get distressed, have to distract myself. What's normal?

I cry. More than I've ever cried before. I feel more deeply than I've ever felt before. I get scared when before I didn't bat an eyelid. It all comes back to her, and for her I am the lioness. 

My hope for her is that she will always feel loved and be happy. 

As she enters her second year I look forward to the high fives as she takes more than 3 steps on her own (and then quickly wish that she wasn't growing up so fast or moving so independently!!), starts to entertain us with her chatter and keeps growing into the cheeky spirited girl I see every day. 

I hope that she adapts as we make our way back towards London in January, 2 years after moving away. What a different life we now have, but what hope there is for adventure, fun and most of all, making memories.

The glimmers of dawn... Day 43

Day 43 (Friday 12th 2018)

43 people witnessed Lee de Forest, an early radio pioneer, as he broadcast phonograph
records for the first-time over radio waves from the Eiffel Tower in Paris on the
12th January 1908. As this was early days for broadcasting, nobody had a receiver
to pick up the signals. Although there are claims that these signals were received over
500 miles away and it is hailed as the first public broadcast. These days wifi uses
radio waves to connect users to the internet, so those of us using wifi to read
this should thank Lee de Forest. The Eiffel Tower was used as a wireless station
for many years. The photograph shows Gustav Eiffel's apartment in the Eiffel Tower
where he entertained Thomas Edison amongst others.

Today I need to encourage my youngest to pack, as he returns to university in the north east of England this weekend. I know he is having a wonderful time when he is there, but it still makes me so sad when he goes away. Part of being a mother...

Tamasin Sutton, the author of today's post, also chose to be based in the north east - leaving London for Newcastle upon Tyne. Some of you may remember her post entitled "Holding On" published as an Advent Blog on New Year's Eve 2016 in which, amongst other things, she talked about the reasons for her move. She works as a freelance HR consultant, with her own business TSHR Limited. Tamasin has over 13 years in various HR management roles across private and public sector organisations. Then in 2014 she decided to establish her own consultancy. She specialises in supporting SMEs and their leaders and has some great feedback from clients. She is qualified in the use of various psychometric tools, as well as being an NVQ assessor with the PTTLS qualification. 

She cares about the HR profession and the people within it - she is a Facilitator with Developing People Globally (DPG) supporting and assessing those studying for the CIPD Level 5 qualifications, as well as having co-established with Melanie Cheung Connecting HR North East - which enables networking and events for HR, L&D and OD professionals in the region. Tamasin is active on social media - you can follow her on Twitter (her handle is @TamasinS). To relax, Tamasin enjoys travelling, but she is happy to unwind with a gin and a chat - although, as her final paragraph shows, she has new, exciting adventures ahead.

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This time last year I was in mourning. Suffering a loss I hadn't expected, I didn't want, and I didn't know how to process. I was conflicted, having made a move to the north east, seeing hope for a brighter year, maybe another defining year? Hopeful of a shift from the darkness to the dawn, but wondering if I could do that. Where would my professional life take me? How could I create something from scratch? Who did I know? Where on earth do I start?  You can read about my feelings from last year here.  

The darkness of the winter months consumed me, overtaking my thoughts, masking the glimmers of light, the dawn of a new era.  Perhaps that's too grand a descriptor, but for me, it feels pivotal. The despair, the longing, the grief for something so precious filled my nights with a darkness far more powerful than any eclipse of the sun. Like a few of the wonderful advent blogs relayed so far this series, people sometimes say insensitive or unhelpful things.  "it was for the best". "it wasn't viable". "it wasn't meant to be". It doesn't help. It doesn't help to dispel the darkness, or let you see the rise of the dawn, a new day, a new sense of hope. And how do you come back from that? How do you move on? Have I worked through this darkness? I don't know.... I was scared to look forward for a long time, to hope of a better outcome. I didn't expect to have these feelings.

Establishing professional connections in my new home town has been a challenge. London was easier, more open to the informal, the collaboration, new people. As I reflect on the last year I think about what I can do differently, more of, less of. I've met some fabulously passionate people in my region, one in particular, and she has become a partner in crime in helping to build a community. She provides glimmers of light when closed doors appear all around me. I am thankful for this partnership and for her unwavering passion for HR. It intrigues me that there is closure in many directions and I play a part in this. I can be easily put off when doors are closed, I wonder why people would be interested in speaking to me when they have so many established relationships already. But I then remember that I have something to give, I just need to channel it better, think about what is most important to me, stop the scatter gun effect.  How I respond to situations will make the difference.

I set out to do significant things this year, to build my business, spend time at home. Some of my plans have changed, they have needed to.  2017 was an opportunity for hope, for challenge, for love. 

And it delivered. As I lay on my bed with my precious baby girl on my chest (a whopping 9lb 11oz of her!) I am overwhelmed with love.  This is the dawn of a new stage in life. She is inquisitive, adorable and I am fascinated by every single thing that she does. She gives me something that I didn't even know I missed, or wanted. She is dependent on me, every day she discovers something new, and every day I see the dawn, and not just in the sense of early morning feeds!  Her smile is infectious, even at 13 days old. Her journey into the world was a stark contrast to the pregnancy, it was arduous, complex and unexpected.  Nothing prepares you for what is to come, or what can go wrong. But nothing else matters other than for that precious little person to be safe and healthy, even if you're left battered and bruised. Priorities shift and whilst the darkness still comes, especially at this time of great adjustment, the glimmers of dawn sparkle brightly, in glorious vivid colour, and I am truly thankful.

Renée

“A modern Nativity the old fashioned way” (aka “Ostentatious Over-Sharings of a Smug Git”)

Day 17 (Saturday 17th December 2016)

17 thousand solar cells on the wings of Solar Impulse 2

enabled it to achieve its record making fossil-fuel-free flight

around the globe. It has a wider wingspan than a Boeing 747.

The journey started on 9th March 2015 and was completed on

26th July 2016 when it arrived back in Abu Dhabi.

We have reached the weekend and, even though I suspect that you have a busy day ahead of you, I hope you find time to read today's post and perhaps catch up on ones that you have missed or merit a re-read. I am sure you will agree with me that the blogs so far have been extraordinary; today's is no exception. Jo Mortimer, one of the UK's leading recruitment experts, specialising in administrative and office roles is a Divisional Leader at the highly regarded Angela Mortimer Group. Jo can be found on Twitter, her handle is @J0Mortimer. Jo has a 1st class degree in Psychology from Cambridge and has retained an interest in questioning the world and the people around her. She is well-travelled and engaging company. A Buddhist, she practices Taoist Tai Chi. She has an excellent voice (singing folk and as part of a capella group). Jo is a feminist, as you will be able to tell from her post.

Jo has written a very personal post influenced by a significant high during her past 12 months: the birth of her daughter. She also, deliberately, raises a number of topics that are not often discussed or even are considered taboo in our western society.

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“A modern Nativity the old fashioned way”

(aka “Ostentatious Over-Sharings of a Smug Git”)

Around this time last year, an eagerly anticipated event came upon us – the birth of our daughter.

It was beautiful, though not in conventional Hollywood terms. Like all newborns, her grey skin was more “Shaun of the Dead” than “Casa Blanca”. I’ll spare you the analysis of bodily fluids in the birthing pool.

Image: Shaun of the Dead, Dir: Edgar Wright, 2004

But the process of giving birth really was beautiful – one of the greatest highs of my life. Not just the “phew it’s all over and we have a baby” bit, the whole experience. And that’s an unusual thing for a woman to say.

Why?

At this point, I get on my feminist high horse.

In modern history, patriarchal society has, I contend, embraced an image of the weak and helpless woman, feeling faint in a corset and heels (this is not a bygone era – remember Nicola Thorp, the receptionist sent home from PwC earlier this year for not wearing heels?). Such delicate and lovely creatures cannot be expected to do, well, hard labour.

Image sourced from www.marriedtothesea.com

Enter the men in white coats with their trusty sidekick, technology.

“Lie on your back my dear while we strap you to this recording device, give you pain relief rendering you immobile and then inevitably have to cut you in some way to wrench the poor grey specimen out of you.”

This is the prevailing model of first world childbirth, talked about by new mothers ad nauseam. The competition for top horror story makes “Rosemary’s Baby” look like “Toy Story 2”.

Rosemary’s Baby, Roman Polanski, 1968

And women with a positive birth story can hardly speak up at these coffee meets. Rule number 1 of the playground: when you’re making new friends, try not to be the smug git. So women with positive birth stories remain the silent. This does all women a disservice.

It takes courage to step outside the prevailing paradigm. I came under pressure from the well-meaning family to have a hospital birth. This was motivated by loving concern for our welfare, and in the context of the modern norm is understandable.

But taking control of your choices is key to ensuring that you feel relaxed and comfortable, and that you have the best chance of a gentle, natural birth. Our mammalian cousin, the household cat, is renowned for shunning birthing baskets meticulously prepared by owners, favouring instead the solitude of the garden hedge.

Image source: Dailymail.co.uk

The “hypnobirthing” movement, championed by Marie Mongan amongst others, sounds whacky but has at its heart a simple physiological fact: as with all mammals, if the mother is relaxed, the muscles of the womb will contract easily. If the mother is tense and fearful, the muscles of the womb will not want to contract. They will fight to remain closed to delay the birth until the mother feels safe and secure – ‘out of the lion’s den’. This is likely to result in an extended and painful labour.

I decided to create a ‘birthing nest’ in the front room of our house. My husband surpassed himself with birth pool logistics (getting an inflatable Jacuzzi filled with water that remains at a stable 37 degrees isn’t as easy as it sounds), a perfect playlist (Max Richter’s “Sleep” amongst others) and a veritable shrine of candles. Oxytocin, the hormone associated with love and relaxation, was flowing and the birthing goddess was ready to emerge!

And she’d been training.

Realising the importance of a relaxed mind, I repeatedly listened to a man (Phil Parker) telling me in deliciously rhythmic tones that I was going to be “amazed by the easy…simple…and natural process of giving birth”.

Image source: www.prenatalyoga.com

I also tried pre-natal yoga, which gave my pregnant body some vocabulary to move with. For some years, I’ve ‘played’ Taoist Tai ChiÔ (www.taoist.org), a powerful tool for improving physical and psychological health. Tai Chi teaches how to ‘let go’ in body as well as mind. The Chinese have the concept of ‘yin’ force (the opposite of the ‘yang’ force), associated with the empty, yielding, the ‘hollow’. It is the essence of feminine strength, the heart of natural birth.

The second stage of labour (commonly referred to as the ‘pushing’ phase) was long, because hypnobirthing teaches not to ‘push’. In breathing through contractions (and don’t get me wrong, this was not a quiet experience - there were many noises coming out of my mouth that choir girls have no use for), the baby gently moves down. If the modern hospital birth scenario is akin to relieving yourself at work as quickly as possible to avoid breaking wind in a board meeting, this was akin to a relaxed Sunday morning experience with plenty of time to read the weekend supplements.

Image source: http://www.123rf.com/

Our baby was born gently into the water, did not cry and was calm and alert during her first moments outside the womb. I also got off very lightly from the experience (apart from several months of urinary incontinence, which virtually all new mothers suffer from (why does nobody talk about this?)). There was no inflammation to the lower spine, and the wonderful post-natal massage therapist @beccyhands said she wished she could show my lower back to a room of medics to demonstrate the benefits of a gentle birth without intervention.

In her brilliant book, “Birthing From Within”, Pam England explains how in some cultures childbirth for women is held in the same regard as going to war is for men: it is an intense and high risk experience from which you hope to emerge bloody and victorious, shrouded in honour.

The nature of war is that you don’t always emerge victorious. Giving birth is challenging.  It’s bloody.  It’s perhaps our closest shave with death. Many have a tougher experience than I; and if I give birth again, I may not have such good fortune.

If things do go wrong, thank goodness for the amazing staff of the NHS. The Juniper Community Midwives were outstanding in the home care they provided and I felt in very safe hands. Had things gone wrong, we were lucky enough to have King’s College Hospital a short ride away.

Image source: http://www.healthwatchlincolnshire.co.uk

As it was, we did not need a hospital bed, and the baby did not need to be exposed to the increased infection risk from being outside the home. Many of us in our jobs feel we need to be ‘busy’ and ‘doing’ as much as we can in order to be effective. The community midwives understood that the less they intervened, the more effectively they were supporting us.

So as with any battle, the reality of giving birth is likely to surprise. But let this not stop us from training for the big day, eagerly anticipating it and visualising a positive experience. And whilst I’m not advocating medals, for the sake of future mothers, let’s not shy away from talking about our beautiful victorious experiences. I dare say our men folk would!