Tag Archives: birth trauma

My Butterfly Effect: Transforming Birth Trauma into How I Work

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My butterfly effect is turning into a birth story healer after my own traumatic birth.

I used to get this question all the time: “Why do you want to have such a niche? Isn’t it enough if the person who gave birth and the baby are okay?” It angers me to no end when folks say unintentionally hurtful things like “at least you are okay” when folks share that they had a traumatic birth. This minimizes the key role the transition into parenthood has on becoming parents. It’s one thing to be okay after such a transformative and life-changing event. I strive to be better than okay.

The week that falls around July 15 is dedicated to raising awareness about birth trauma and its effects on families. As a therapist who supports people with this type of trauma, initiatives that honour birth trauma are important to me. As a mother who had a traumatic first birth, this week is even more important – I feel validated and seen.
I am honoured to support new parents to heal from this form of trauma. And yes, not all people who give birth identify as mothers, and the non-birthing parent can experience trauma from the birth too. As a trauma therapist, trained in various ways to process trauma, i knew that this would be a way to offer support and be in the best service.

Let me backup a bit and share what trauma is, so that we are on the same page, literally and figuratively. Here is a shorter and more concise, if not a bit simple summative definition: Trauma is something that happens too fast, too much or is too big so it impacts a person‘s experience. It causes overwhelm and can have a lasting toll. It can also be something that takes too long, is experienced alone, and there is not enough information or support. It also shows up as not enough care, not enough time, or not enough support. It’s both extremes because it’s also about being left alone in our experience.

It is not just what happens but also the absence of what should have happened if trauma didn’t get in the way. This is why all trauma has a felt sense of grief. Further, someone can continue to have unresolved trauma because they didn’t have someone witness them in their experience, either immediately or soon after. In short, trauma happens when something is too overwhelming for someone, and they feel alone in the experience.
This is also why a birth that does not go according to plan, and in fact can be quite dysregulating, can also be seen as a trauma. It is the experience of something that’s overwhelming, as well as the absence of what you wanted to happen. It has emotional and psychological impacts because of the distressing childbirth experience. The emotional toll of birth trauma is vast, and can lead to a diagnosis of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Birth Trauma is different from perinatal mood challenges, and yet the symptoms are similar. So, it needs to be given the same attention and care. Like all traumas, it is up to the person who experienced it, not professionals or anyone else – it is truly in the eye of the beholder (Thanks to Cheryl Beck for this reference.)

One in 3 birthers experience birth trauma and that number is even higher for racialized mothers, people with disabilities, queer and gender diverse parents. This number has also increased to closer to 45% of all births during the pandemic.

To paint this picture, i’m going to share some hard facts about the impact of birth trauma. You may want to be mindful of your needs as you read this.

It’s helpful to know there are more than 1 kind of traumatic birth, in fact there are several distinct types of Birth Trauma: 1) Objective Experiences like the death of the newborn or the birther or serious injury to birther or newborn; 2) Subjective Experiences like a fear of own life or of newborns; 3) Systemic Failure and Obstetric Violence that makes the birther feel not heard or supported; and 4) Previous trauma that causes re-traumatization. If you want to get a better since of how this impacts people, this article shares one person’s experience after her birth trauma.

This Birth Trauma Tree visual is a powerful depiction of what birth trauma looks like, and how it can impact new parents. Like any experience of trauma, it is up to the person who experienced it to name it as such. Well-intentioned but still hurtful comments may come from family and friends. It’s important to remember that our society has minimized rituals and rites of passage in general, and even more so for rites that are related to “mothering” and women’s labour – literally. It’s no wonder that the focus becomes just about the physical act and not the spiritual metamorphosis as well.

Long-Lasting Complexities of Birth Trauma Show Up:
When others minimize your birth story because ‘everyone is okay’
When your child triggers you now
When it’s not the day you wanted and were told to have
When you blame yourself for the way the birth happened
When your sexual intimacy and body image is impacted
When the birthday of your baby is hard to celebrate
When your plan for having more kids is impacted
When you don’t know that there is support to process it
When you feel like your birth story is not as significant as others who had it worse
Becoming a parent is a major Rite of Passage in someone’s life. It is a type of initiatory experience. When birth trauma impacts it, the transition is harder and Integration into this new stage of life as a parent can be made more challenging. All rites of passage take time, and are in stages – Separation (i.e. no longer a Maiden); Transition and then Integration of this new role into your full. If you want to listen to a fabulous podcast episode about this, Jessie Harrold interviews Lucy Jones and they talk all about it HERE.

If pregnancy is the cocoon stage of a person’s journey into becoming a parent, birth is seen as the Transition Stage of becoming a parent.The transition to parenthood, and especially motherhood, should be a celebratory and supported time for new parents. This messy transition is not different from any type of sacrifice that is connected to a heroine’s journey. This one is that of becoming something that we have never been before – a mother, a parent. We are entirely new: This is what Matrescence is, the complete physical and spiritual process of becoming someone new, and in this case, a newborn parent (however you birth this child into being). So when the path is altered due to birth trauma, we experience a possible ‘psychotic state’ because we had to do it alone and not be witnessed in it. That is why new parent groups and circles are important and processing birth trauma is key.

Healing can Happen
As i mentioned above, i know that healing can happen because the traumatic birth i experienced with my first-born child was my butterfly effect: it created a ripple effect that changed the trajectory of my life, especially my career. As my initiation into motherhood was rocky, i learned more about birth including it as a rite of passage, the identity crisis, the mood changes, and also that birth can be traumatic. I then made the leap to change the course of my work and specialize in supporting others who had traumatic births.

It was my sliding doors moment, a way to reclaim this transition stage and ultimately experience Post-Traumatic Growth. Trauma healing moves through a spiral-like process, in stages that are paced and intentional. If you are someone who experienced a traumatic birth, it is never too late to receive support and healing. There is a healing quality to being witnessed and having an alternate ending, no matter how long ago you experienced the wound. Here are just some of the resources that i have found helpful:

1) Birth Story Processing is one of several therapeutic resources that can help you heal from a traumatic birth. Since as a supportive, narrative re-telling of the story, it can be quite cathartic. I have been trained in Birth Story Medicine with Pam England and have found this process a foundational part of my own healing and how i hold space for others.

2) Kimberly Ann Johnson has a lovely free meditation you can access. It supports your healing and offers healing through self-compassion.

3) Grief Work – need to grieve the birth we wanted so that we can move on. As Francis Weller shares in his powerful book, The Wild Edge of Sorrow, this can be a Gate into grief. It also is a testament of the Hero’s (or Heroine’s) journey. Grief needs to be witnessed and processed, just like birth stories.

4) As trauma is stored in the body, we need to heal the body first. It’s not enough to revisit the story of the birth. We need to reprocess the impact of it on our body. That’s why therapy modalities have incorporated somatic work as a main tenet of care. I have a process to help people unpack and transform their birth story. You can read more about it here. Other helpful resources are EMDR and Somatic Experiencing.

5) One of the Pillars of Post-traumatic Growth is Advocacy. While not a requirement to heal, when we turn what happened to us as a butterfly effect, or sliding doors moment, it is an opportunity for growth and contributing to our community. It helps us shift from our personal experience to a more global common humanity. If you want to read more about how birth trauma can lead to post-traumatic growth, this article (a PDF) does a great job outlining it. Teela has a very informative Instagram account called The Tea on Birth Trauma Here are just some organizations that do this work: Birthtalk and Birth Better.

Of course we want to not need the awareness campaigns and don’t want anyone to experience birth trauma in the first place. For now, we write articles like this and share resources to help you know that healing is possible. You are not alone. We deserve better.

We are not Maidens any longer.

My Embowered Birth: A Polyvagal-Informed Birth Story

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After giving birth to my first child, i knew when it came time to birth my second, i wanted it to look different. It took a lot of inner work first, as well as learning, unlearning, reflecting, and healing.

I did most of that on my own. When i had my first almost 12 years ago, i knew nothing of birth story healing work, let alone that a niche like perinatal mental health existed. When i had my son, an emergency c-section, i carried a lot of guilt and internalized stories that my body could not deliver a baby vaginally. I was told my body was too small and that it was failing to progress. I was told others weren’t surprised i had a c-section because I am small. What the actual fuck does that mean? I have come to hate these words and also learned to externalize that story. I have also given some of my son the responsibility – thanks for turning a bit too much, little one, i know you were trying to help. Your wee head just was too much for my swollen cervix after 30 hours of labour.

Move forward two years, and I’m pregnant again. I have already shared about the Birth Blessing Party. What i have not shared here is the actual home birth (after c-section, called HBAC for short). Now, after years of providing birth story healing work, and being so honoured to hear other’s stories, i have a deeper understanding and embodied trust in what i know to be a healing process to reclaim our birth stories.

What follows is the account of the birth of my youngest, layered with aspects of Polyvagal Theory, Somatic Therapies and more. I’m kind of excited that I made a connection to the gift of Polyvagal Theory to how birth happens. If you want to learn more about how i support other people to heal their birth stories, CHECK OUT THIS ARTICLE i wrote that unpacks it more. So, get ready for a self-professed Brain Geek Part of me coming out now and a brain-geek inspired birth story!…

In case you haven’t heard of it, there has been a lot of (rightful) information about Polyvagal Theory. It is this wonderful nerve that acts as a pathway from our brain stem to our perineum. It provides all sorts of support to our body and how we react to the world. Since it so solidly lives in the pelvis as well as the brain, i love that I have seen how the theory can show up in action during childbirth. There are 3 stages of labour, just as there are 3 parts of Polyvagal Theory. I will go over them as i break down the story, but for now, as a summary: The Sympathetic Nervous System (the good ole Reptilian Brain) and the 2 parts of the Parasympathetic Nervous System (Ventral Vagus Nerve and Dorsal Vagus Nerve) make up Polyvagal Theory. Looking back at the birth of my child, i noticed that it helps me get a sense of why the supports and resources worked at the time, and what is also needed to help birthers in these various stages of labour.

As the theory is also linked to the Window of Tolerance (or ‘capacity’ as i like how it has been reframed), i would be remiss not to also include this great resource. Thanks to Dan Siegel and Pat Ogden, we now know that each of us has a threshold with what we can can take. On a given day, we may have a larger threshold (aka big bay window), and are more trying days, our window is as small as a peephole in an apartment building door. Knowing how the body responds to stress and danger helps us tend to where we are in the Window.

Please note, this is my own personal journey of birth; i know that not everyone can reclaim the power as i did. As a white cis-gendered femme woman, i have privilege that gives me access to these choices. I know not everyone has this same access and privilege, and am part of the movement to change that.

First things first, let’s start just before i went into labour. I had implemented a daily practice once i reached 36 weeks pregnant. It included a gentle yoga practice, hypnobirthing meditations, perineal massages with evening primrose oil, and eating all the good food. All of of this was to help me stay in my calm and rested zone, or Ventral Vagal Tone (soft and relaxed). Then, as i became 7 days “late”, i had to pivot as i had just been told that I would need to have a “well baby” ultrasound. I knew that would start the chain of events that would lead me away from my plan. So, that day, foreshadowing the birth, I did everything right to facilitate my child to be born without needing to go to that appointment. Spoiler alert: she was born 2 minutes before the appointment was supposed to happen.

That day, wanting to reclaim my power and agency, I made intentional choices. I had acupuncture and massage appointments, i had a solo date with a spicy dosa for lunch, i attended a La Leche League meeting with friends, and had a nap. I ate pineapple, cuddled with my boys, and had a family bath. You could say oxytocin was flowing.

It was when i stood up during this bath that I knew that the time had come.
It’s Time! Baby is on Route
The sympathetic nervous system (SNS for short) is an essential part of our daily survival. It is where our reptilian brain helps us stay safe. Our Fight or Flight response lives here, protecting us from harm by either fleeing or fighting that which wants to cause us harm. This is the state of Hyperarousal in the Window of Tolerance (or Capacity) resource. When still within a regulated place, we can get a lot done as it motivates us into action. It is when we start to feel the flooding of emotions like overwhelm, anxiety or hypervigilance that things get dysregulated. If we can’t access the mode of activation that pushes us into action, the opposite realm of freeze (shutdown) or fawn (fix) happens. So, staying in the zone of movement helps us move the labour along. Hence the word ‘labour’ as the process is work.

The initial surge of contractions that initiate the start of labour are very similar to the autopilot response of flight or fight response. This early stage of labour is what helps the birther know that labour is starting; it’s like the brain kicks in and says ‘it’s time.’

It is here that we learn what we need to manage the new sensations in our body, where we make meaning of the surges. It is at this stage where we take stock of the process and see what is needed to keep safe and in control of the pain. It is also at this stage that we learn to discern fear of harm versus the worry of birth. It is no wonder we carry words like fear and pain with birth – pop culture stories on birth do not do this stage justice.

So, i worked on my breath, i paced, i swayed, i chatted. I moaned. I connected to my vagus nerve without even knowing. Moaning and swaying are beautiful remedies to get our body into the rest and calm it needs. They are directed rooted in the vagus nerve – no pun intended!

I also laughed and chatted with my partner, doula and midwife team. This sense of connection helped me stay grounded and centred, also a deep component of the vagus nerve.

Rest Time: Parasympathetic Dorsal Vagus Nerve
The dorsal vagus nerve lives in our back and lower body, hence ‘dorsal.’ This is the energy that is pulling us down, or into ‘down-regulation’ to help us get to a sense of rest. In the Window of Tolerance resource, this is the Hypoaroused state and can be quite supportive to get to a state of rest. It is where we have a nap, curl up in fetal pose, have luxurious baths, watch an old favourite show to pass the time. When still within the range of regulation, it serves us. It’s important to be attuned to this so that we have tools to stay within our range of capacity.

Sometimes, as in other times in our life, this part can overdo its job. It becomes overwhelmed and maybe a bit scared. In somatic therapy work, this feeling may show up as collapse, freeze, or shutdown when something hard on us needs to be tended to. It can manifest as feeling drained, scared, lonely or depressed. In labour, this is the time that our body starts to ask us to slow down but we are scared to ask for what it needs, helpers are telling us that we are not progressing fast enough, or our body does not feel heard that rest is vital here. Or, if this is the first birth for someone, they may be feeling like a fraud or unsure about what they are supposed to be feeling and are worried about disappointing their team. This is the pull of appeasement/fawning/fixing. I remember wanting to make sure the midwives were okay when i was having this hour-long shower!

While this story is about my second-born, during the birth of my son, before things changed and i was rushed to the hospital, this was the time that i listened to my favourite meditative playlist, watched Goonies, and went inward. When i was in labour with my daughter, this was the time that i had a long shower. It was so long that i drained most of the hot water. From 2-3AM, i was in the shower with the student midwife keeping me company, while my partner, doula, and primary midwife were making the birth pool. As the kitchen was the easiest place to do so, we found a way to fit it in. I will always associate water with soothing my tired, achy, and worried body. It was literally the balm I needed to soothe me.

In order to follow the flow of the birth, this next step officially happened here but it is actually a sympathetic nervous system moment: During birth, in the transition stage of getting past that beloved number of 7cm dilated, we are in this spot. We are starting to feel the shift inward. I will never forget that moment i thought my c-section scar split open, only to be validated that it was just my waters breaking and my baby reaching the right spot to descend. My fear was my inner Firefighter kicking in as it kept my worry brain active. And yet, it was overdoing its job – i was in fact in clear waters. Literally.

The Sweet Spot: The Ventral Vagus Nerve In Action
The Ventral Vagus Nerves lives in the front of our body. It is what helps us orient to our surroundings, access connection via our Social Engagement System. It acts as our Mirror of Safety and stems from the maternal co-regulation need. This nerve helps us pivot or neck to orient or centre ourselves. It is both Estrogen related and Oxytocin bonding. Just think of the importance of skin-to-skin care immediately after birht – that is for oxytocin to do its magic as it is flowing right there. Our vagus nerve is closest to the outside of our body at our chest – so this is why humming, buzzing like a bee, gargling, or stroking your chest in a gently rhythm are so helpful.

The birth pool plays a huge role in my birth story. Water is my Happy Place and creates the Glow my body needs to rest and feel safe. Being in it makes me recall my hypnobirthing and Birthing From Within mediations more easily. I also feel like a goddess in the water.

See that image? That’s my favourite place on Earth. It’s what i visualized during this birth and have come to use as my Happy Place Visual ever since. It was in the pool, when i looked at my doula Kim and saw the Full Moon outside the window. This moment defines everything for me.

There is this change that happens when we get to 10cm, also known as the sweet spot. While i can’t put it into words exactly, recalling this 9 years after the birth, i do remember the moment. I had just had that epic “oh my goodness, i just got there” moment, and locked eyes with my doula Kim. I saw the Full Moon outside the window, i heard the midwife team and my partner. This is what Stephen Porges calls Neuroception: when i relate to you and it is reciprocated. I know my sweet son was sleeping in bed right above us. I remember consciously connecting to him, even though he was not physically present in the room. I felt so entirely connected, seen, respected and attuned to my body.

Some things i learned that helped me stay present were:
– Somatic resources like a long bath, a lower back massage, or walking to get even just 5% more comfort in my body
– Have someone that is committed solely or intentionally to supporting you as the birther
– Pay attention to your edges where sits bone meets chair; do a mindful body scan
– Vagus Stroke exercise
– 5 senses of what to see, listen to, smell, feel, savour in my mouth
– Go deeper into my body – learn some meditation ahead of time, or ask your birth partner to help – things that help you notice interoception into fascia, bone, or muscle
– Notice songs or stories that resonate with you, ways to help you stay in the zone. It could be an embodied playlist or the story of Inanna.

It was then that i knew i could do this. It was at this moment that i entered my Self, no other parts were needed, and no other Part could step in as none had been here before. Having not reached this final stage of labour, i was so mindful and present with my body. I was not afraid anymore, and my lovely Manager part was able to step back and watch me in action.

It was recommended by the midwife that i get out of the pool to do a dilation check-in: i was at 10 cm, and that sensation i felt was my body’s way of letting me know that i was now ready to push. As i had not reached this stage last time, everything was new for me. I sat on a birth stool for a while and pushed. I transferred to the floor and pushed. I squeezed my partner’s hand and pushed. My son woke up sometime here and he saw his little sister’s crown. It was then that we knew that she was coming soon. So we called for back-up and my son’s best friend’s dad came and read to my son in the living room while we pushed. Incidentally, the story series about Franklin the turtle and hand-knit socks will forever be immortalized for me as a connection to the home birth. Listening to our friend gently read to our first-born was a balm for my body as it started to regulate and know it was safe.

I was in a zone while pushing, and to be honest, i don’t remember much of this part. I do recall that the Ring of Fire was the most searing pain i have ever felt. I have a vague memory that more came out of me than humanly possible. The animal in me overrode the Polite Lady Part who would have been mortified. And when sweet Miss M was birth earthside, she was not crying, and had a fist in the air. She was like, Hell Yes we did it. Yes we did.

Now each year, on her birthday, we do a dance on the spot where she was born.

So, why do we need to know about Polyvagal Theory or even the Window of Tolerance in reference to birth? When we know more about how our body and nervous system step in to help us under duress, a new experience or under threat and pain, this knowledge enables us to know what to do for our Self. Not all birthers can experience all three levels of Polyvagal – most may stay in SNS, and get some glimmers of the Vagal Parts. If you want to have an empowered, embodied and even orgasmic birth, this is where knowing how the theory relates to you makes the difference.

In an overwhelmed state, we freeze or collapse. Our bodies are built to follow this evolutionary path – if we can’t flee, we fight. When we discern that we can’t fight off the attack, we feign death or freeze. Some of us have access to the Fix/Fawn response first. Typically, when overwhelmed, we may shutdown and dissociate. We may lose track of time or focus. Anyone who utilizes the Fawn Response may use people-pleasing, minimizing their own needs, or make jokes to lessen what they are feeling and are afraid to ask form.


For instance, do you know if you respond to surprise/pain/fear in a Flight, Fight, Fix(fawn) or Freeze way? We don’t have to endure trauma in our life to have an instinctual response. Our nervous system kicks in to help us grapple with something tat is too much to bear or is overwhelming.

Fight – scream or roar like a jaguar, clench and claw your fingers or shake them, stomp; use ice cubes to cool you down
Flight – go for walks in first stage of labour, look for exits when in stage 3, move your neck, or rock your body; find your happy place
Fix/Fawn – talk to people in the room, use your voice and negotiate what you need; work on saying NO and know what your rights are, set boundaries, and tend to what you need, not hosting or tending to the others in the room.
Freeze – use warm water like a shower or birth pool; sway your body; find ways to stay warm on your periphery – your hands or your feet need to stay warm or grounded.

As our birth story is connected to the people who birthed before us, in our own lineage, we also carry those deep seeded experiences of pain, trauma, fear, and empowerment, awe, and wisdom. After having 2 very different births, i know that it is indeed possible to have an Empowered embodied mindful birth. And yet, that is not always available – As a white bodied cis-gendered woman, i also recognize how deeply seeded this assumption is that i have this right and access. Not everyone does. Structural racism and other forms of oppression keep this inherent birthright from all birthers. I also entirely believe that all births are natural, and the story matters. We matter. Birth Matters.

Trauma-Informed Care put into Practice

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A trauma-informed approach is defined as a strength-based program or system that realizes the widespread impact of trauma and understands potential paths for recovery, the signs and symptoms of trauma in clients, and others involved in the system; it then responds by integrating this knowledge into its practices and seeks to actively resist re-traumatization

I’m so glad that there has been a movement to implementing trauma-informed principles in all sorts of workplaces. Yoga classes, massage and physiotherapy, dental clinics, schools, and family lawyers have all made commitments to be more trauma-informed. While therapists may work with people who have experienced trauma, that does not always come with being trauma-informed. One would assume it’s part and parcel. That is not always the case, unfortunately. Further, sometimes the therapist is but their office or clinic does not work from a trauma-informed practice. Over the years of my work, I have both learned and implemented key principles and practices to ensure that my work is trauma-informed. For me, that includes doing what I can to help people I support feel safe and respected by me, that they are valued as the expert in their lives (versus me as a professional), their voice is empowered and have choices, as well as working from an intersectional anti-oppression framework: I work with compassion, collaboration and non-judgment. Being trauma-informed for me also includes knowing that everyone has a right to resilience and recovery/healing and trust is earned. I also know about the impact of trauma on people and have tools to assess for the symptoms.

As a Feminist Therapist for over 20 years, I strongly believe that being trauma-informed is deeply connected to my work: I’ve been a trauma-focused therapist for over 15 years. For instance, I know that people who identify as women (whether it is cis-gendered, trans or genderqueer, non-binary) experience gender-based violence at a far greater and disproportionate amount compared to their male peers. When I work with a new client, this informs my work – while she may be coming to me for support about adjusting to parenthood, she may have witnessed or experienced violence first-hand in her past. This may implicitly impact how she sees her role, workload, and role as a parent. Unresolved trauma lives and manifests in our bodies and lives in a way that keeps the trauma storied part of us activated.

Further, as a therapist who works with sexual violence, I also know that people who are giving birth who have a history of sexual assault may be very likely to experience triggers during pregnancy and birth – the birth process can be quite re-traumatizing in fact. This includes both the birth itself as well as the early postpartum period.

There are so many good models of trauma-informed care (TIC). I have put together this one with the 6 key principles that inform my work. For instance, I take the intake and assessment process slow. I don’t expect clients to share with me their history of trauma in the first 1-3 sessions (typically it’s seen as required information in order to get service). That disclosure should come with time, established trust and rapport, and the development of a relationship. I am a relational therapist – I value alchemy between us, I self-disclose my own lived experience at times (i.e my own miscarriage loss), and I am committed to work from a place of non-judgment and compassion. We build our work together on compassion and collaboration and they navigate how the sessions go – be it how and where they sit in the room, and what they want to talk about in session. As I’m trained in several therapy modalities, I also believe it’s important to use what is best for my clients, and would refer to someone else if it’s not the right fit.

Being a trauma therapist does not mean I expect to hear the trauma story itself. In fact, that may not happen at all. To me, being a trauma-informed trauma therapist means I work to help people access their resources (strategies that are physical, relational, spiritual, emotional and mental) so that they can find ways to integrate their trauma part (i.e traumatic birth experience) into their everyday life now, so that it doesn’t remain a fragmented part that still triggers them when it’s the anniversary/birthday. As trust is earned, it’s important to me that we build this connection slowly, and pace the trauma work so that people feel safe when they leave their session with me. While I don’t think anyone can guarantee a 100% safe place, I make it a practice to do my best to collaborate my clients.

Trauma-informed care for me also means that the person seeking my support is the expert in their own life – Clients are their own expert. I am just a guide that is there to support them. I don’t carry any expectations of my own. I also bear witness to the various social locations and how that can impact their healing i.e from birth trauma and the intersection if they are a racialized or otherwise marginalized person. I also overtly acknowledge my privilege as a white cis-gendered woman, who also has power as a psychotherapist. I make this intersection explicit in my work by naming the oppression for what it is, instead of minimizing. Making links to the systemic forms of discrimination is an important practice of TIC as it holds space for multiple truths instead of internalizing shame and guilt.

Working from a trauma-informed place also means that I am an advocate if the people i support need or request it. I share resources with you if part of your chosen healing journey includes taking legal action. There are great organizations and advocates that can support someone in their healing process. As big component of post-traumatic growth is when survivors advocate not only for themselves but others as well. That’s why movements like #metoo and Birth Monopoly are so powerful. It is inherently healing to feel interconnectedness with others who have similar stories. It’s part of my role and responsibility to share these resources with the people i support. I also bring it into my practice even when people don’t ask for it overtly – we don’t know what we don’t know is available as a resource.

Trauma-informed practice also includes how I take care of myself as I can be impacted by vicarious trauma. I have tools, activities, and regular practice of self-care. I also think it’s necessary to keep learning about my work, and push myself to be even better as a therapist. I seek out peer and clinical consultation and believe that all therapists need to do this, regardless of them being in practice for 5 or 25 years.

When you are seeking support from a therapist or practitioner, ask them what their definition of trauma-informed care is. If they don’t have one, that may be a sign that they are not thinking of the inherent impact and context of trauma. Not everyone works in a trauma-focused profession but if they are not at least trauma-informed in the practice, that means they are not keeping your safety and needs at their forefront of their work. Trauma does not have to be complex and Big T, but anyone who has lost a job, grieved the death of a loved one (including a pet), moved to a new city with no support, had a significant injury or illness have all experienced trauma that still lives in their body.

We deserve better. We deserve to get support that honours what our body knows. As Pat Ogden has so wisely shared, “the body always leads us home.”

The C-Section Club

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I have mixed feelings about clubs. I never was a Girl Scout, in choir or on sports teams as a kid. I was a dancer though, but that doesn’t seem like the same kind of club or group like the others. For one thing, the rules and homogeneity that seemed to go along with it felt too forced. And just because one kid likes to play soccer, that doesn’t mean she likes the same music or food as another. And it felt like we had to be the same all the time, like Stepford Wives. I could be wrong though.

One club I never thought I’d join is the C-Section Club. Looking back, i guess it was inevitable: my mom is a 2-time club member herself. I know that cesareans are not exactly hereditary or contagious but it sure seems like they are. Friends who gave birth right before I did also had c-sections. A distant relative on my partner’s side said after the birth, “well of course she (meaning me) had a cesarean, look how small she is (I’m 5”1)!”

And yet I kept turning a blissful and determined eye away from allowing a c-section to be an option. I chose not to fully integrate the conversations about c-sections that were happening at my birth prep class. I skimmed over those chapters in the books I had.

Fast forward to the weekend of the birth of my first child. After 36 hours of early labour, a part of me knew the birth I wanted wasn’t going to happen. A part of my body also trusted that what I was feeling was not within the realm of normal. And yet when my care was transferred from midwife to OB, I was resistant. Who was this person to me? I’ve never met her and she surely did not know my birth plan or dreams. When she confirmed that I was not progressing at stage 2 (what the fuck does the mean anyway!?), they strongly suggested I get an epidural. And then a c-section a mere few hours later. I wish I trusted my body just needed to rest, and that my sweet baby was so eager to meet me so got stuck in the canal, and that my body got swollen from his eagerness. While the decision was ultimately mine, one thing I struggled with is that I never felt a bond or trust in this doctor. And that she did not have my best interest in mind. This is when my birth story turned from something sacred to something hard: I lost my voice and trust in what my body could do. Because I was told I couldn’t do it.

This post is not necessarily a birth story of my first (I did share a bit here), but rather a chance to acknowledge how some of us feel when we don’t get the birth we want. It’s a place to start that work. I know a lot of us feel like the end result of healthy baby healthy parent is paramount, and yet I can’t minimize the mixed feelings we experience when we go through an experience that is out of our control.

Since it’s Cesarean Awareness Month, I wanted to take a moment to acknowledge that each birth is unique, sacred and magical. They are also scary, painful and intense. Most of all, each is real and natural. I hate how vaginal births or unmedicated births are sometimes mistakenly called natural births, like medically supported or c-sections are any less natural. In an article full of helpful tips for people who are pregnant, Erica Chidi Cohen, one of the founders of Loom (an amazing pregnancy, parenthood and reproductive health clinic in LA) shared this great thought:

We need to stop using the term “natural birth.” The concept of natural birth is divisive and inherently competitive. All birth is natural. It’s as simple as that. If you want to have the intense sensations of labor and you’re coping well, go for it! If you have a hard time with pain or you have bad associations from trauma, that’s totally okay. You have the inherent right to choose how you want to navigate your birth experience, and those choices should be free of judgment. You should be celebrated for moving through the process of pregnancy and birth, however it unfolds, unmedicated, medicated or cesarean. THERE IS NO UNNATURAL BIRTH. It’s not Westworld. It’s all natural.

I also really love the work of January Harshe and the Birth without Fear movement. The quote above is one of my fave ones from her. And yet so many of feel pressure to birth a unicorn.

Here’s why our well-intentioned comments about someone else’s experience can be problematic: it doesn’t take into account their potential birth trauma and how it’s linked to consent and body trust issues. We hear about birth trauma that relates to obviously upsetting experiences of injury or even infant death. But another type of birth trauma is one where the birther has their voice taken from them, and instead the medical expert is calling all the shots. When some of us have experienced sexual violence and later in life get pregnant, this new experience can bring up former body memories and triggers.

We are also told that our bodies are meant to birth babies, and there is an assumption that people who birth vaginally are stronger. Not only did my body not fail me, I am incredibly strong because I grew humans in my body and then birthed them. And yet, I like so many others are made to feel inadequate, scarred and less than. We are already at odds the day we become parents when we birth via C-section; talk about being set up to fail.

So this month is all about honouring our path to birth babies and to be recognized for the hard work it is to have such major surgery on our baby’s first day earthside. I wear my scar proudly – to me it’s not a battle scar but a reminder of my strength and resilience. I’ve reclaimed it and it works for me.

My Birth Story: Birth of a Mama

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My eldest child was born 8 years ago this week. Looking back on the birth, i credit the experience i had personally with what motivated me to do the work i do. It wasn’t the birth i wanted, and while i have moments of it that i treasure to this day, parts of it were really scary and it’s taking me time to heal from them. I know i’m one of the lucky ones and my birth trauma is my own story. I also know that i have more tools on hand to heal and delve into the trauma than most of us have. Please read on only if you want to.

I went into early labour on the Friday of Pride weekend. It was exactly my estimated due date so i was pretty excited about that. The labour slowed over the course of the Saturday, so i napped, watched Goonies (my all time favourite movie growing up so i thought i could get into it). Looking back on it, i can’t believe we didn’t name our baby Mickey or Andy or even Sloth. I remember the awesome Labour Mix my partner made (a former DJ and full-time lover of music). I remember the nice bath. I remember snacking on cold drinks and smoothies, walking at 10PM and 2AM. And then things started to turn in the wee hours of Sunday morning. By then our amazing Midwife Mary was with us. The pains of labour just seemed to intensify in a way that i knew wasn’t what i needed to feel. Next thing i knew we were rushing to the hospital at 4AM, after seeing what we thought was meconium. It turned out not to be, but it was a preamble to needing to be at the hospital i guess.

Between 5AM and 11AM my care had to be transferred over to an OB doc. This was devastation #1. I so admired my team of midwives and felt so connected to them, having to be transferred felt like a betrayal even though my Wise Mind knew it was necessary. The doc did not have the same bedside manner or a trauma-informed framework. Ironically, it was the anesthesiologist that helped me get through the discussion that i ‘needed’ to have an emergency C-section. I remember being told that my son’s head was stuck and i was too swollen to give birth vaginally. I remember thinking that in his excitement to meet me, my baby turned a bit too much and got stuck. I remember the pain before the epidural and thinking ‘there is no way that those of us that birth can do this.’ The pain was surreal.

Devastation #2 was to learn that i had to have a C-section. Just like my mother did with me. I had prepped my body to birth vaginally. I had convinced myself of this, so did not read enough of a birth plan for C-section. I had no idea that i would be strapped down, that the medical team would be too busy chatting about their weekend plans, that i couldn’t immediately hold my new baby, and that skin to skin was impossible until in the recovery room. Devastation #3 is learning that my arms had to be strapped down. #4 was learning that i couldn’t hold my newborn. #5 was knowing that my partner’s role in the room was even less active. And devastation #6 was realizing that my voice just didn’t matter in that room. I was not an equal or key planner in the birth of my baby. In the birth of me as a mama.

My baby was born that Sunday afternoon, just as the Pride parade was starting. We saw a rainbow out of our minuscule window. It overlooked the lake and i worked hard to rid the delivery/surgery room from my mind. My baby and i worked hard on our latch, our breastfeeding, our bonding. We worked on our rest and healing. We stayed at the hospital for 3 days. We stayed together in our small shared room. We saw other families come in and out. I worked on getting to the bathroom. Devastation #7 is learning the incredible feat of getting out of bed to walk across the room to pee. Devastation #8 is being told i had to work on a poo before leaving the hospital. Yikes, how was that supposed to happen. Devastation #9 is being told that my baby wasn’t latching so wasn’t getting what he needed – i have had my period and big boobs since the age of 9, if nothing else my body was born to breastfeed! He had one dose of formula to get us through that night shift with that 1 nurse. And then i worked my butt off to get him to latch.

What i loved – having friends visit on Day 2 and 3, bringing us homemade food and changes of clothes, seeing my parents hold their new grandson, not having to change the meconium diapers, being able to just nap, nurse, and snack for a week. I loved being able to reflect on my strength, and to ask for help. I love that i had a team of cheerleaders who were at my side through it all. Recreating the birth story i wanted as soon as we got home. Looking at and mesmerizing all the details on my new baby’s face. His feet – oh my goodness, newborn feet!

In my work as a therapist who supports others who have birthed, i bring my tools for triggers, negative thoughts, anxiety attacks. I carry with me the story of resilience, be it a birth tunnel, a birth house. I have visited the rooms that i needed, and i have come out of the tunnel to the other side, where there is light and strength. After my first-born’s birth, i did the work i needed to in order to reclaim the birth. I did the work so that i could birth again – and this time it was a planned home birth. Beside the birth pool, in the kitchen, under a full moon. That is another story for another time. But i did the work to get there. It can be done.

Now 8 years later, we have to go to the same hospital for the periodic emergency trip (hello parenthood) and the former birth ward is gone. I hear it’s better and the team is more aware. I hear that good changes have been made so that women are part of their birth even when it’s a more medical one. My birth story includes a chapter that was scary and made me feel silenced and irrelevant. I realized after that process of becoming a mother that i would work hard on not being silenced and pushed aside. I need to be an advocate for my children, for me, and for you. I want to be that support.

We are the authors of our stories and they are powerful – there is no right or wrong story. May yours bring you strength.