The Spirit of Birth
By Colette Crawford

January 2002

My legs shook, sweat dripped from my forehead into my eyes, nausea welled up, and my thoughts fired in every direction. I can't do anymore, I thought.

I heard the gentle reminder from my teacher, "Be aware of your breath," she said. "Watch it as you inhale softly and exhale smoothly."

My body got stronger. My endurance increased. My mind quieted. Yet, I was always challenged to go deeper. In this way yoga prepared me for childbirth.

Twelve years ago I was pregnant with my third baby, but eight weeks before giving birth I was broadsided by a speeding car. I suffered a severe back and pelvic injury and was threatened with premature labor. No x-rays or other tests could be taken without injury to my unborn baby. My doctor didn't know how the accident might affect the labor and birth. "Just wait and see," was all he could say.

As my belly grew each week the pain in my pelvis, lower back and left leg increased. I wanted to avoid taking the high doses of medication prescribed because I questioned their effect on my unborn baby's organs. In my research I discovered that the FDA may approve a drug for use during pregnancy, childbirth or breastfeeding but does not require the manufacturers of the drugs to systematically review the drugs' effects on exposed offspring once the drug is on the market. How could I trust that it would be safe for my baby when the drug manufacturer's statement on the package insert clearly reads - adverse effects to fetus are unknown ?

Yoga became my pain relief.

Night after night I awoke in severe pain. Unable to sleep I practiced yoga poses to open my hips and release my lower back. Watching my breath I inhaled and dove right into the center of the pain using my exhalation to create space. As a stone when thrown into a pond it creates a rippling effect away from the epicenter, so my breath created space from the pain. This helped my body soften and my mind quiet, making the pain more tolerable. The moment my mind began to wander, my muscles seized in agony.

These were the times in the darkness of the night that tears of anguish and fear streamed down my face and I questioned, What is labor going to be like? How will I get through it?

When my labor began pain shot through my back down into my left leg like a lightening bolt electrocuting me. I struggled to hold on, to just bear the pain but it only got worse. Having had two babies before, this seemed like more than birth pain. As if she heard my thoughts my midwife said, "Colette, the baby is occiput posterior, so the back of his head is pressing on your back. This is probably why you are feeling so much pain there." But I knew better.

"No," I trembled, " It's not the same. I had back labor with both of my other babies. This is differnmmm…" my voice trailed off into a throaty moan. Doubt and fear loomed heavily over me. I couldn't seem to catch my breath. My mind frantically searched for a way out until the contraction subsided. Bruce, my husband, cocooned my back with his body. In my bedroom kneeling on the floor beside the bed my midwife slipped the ultra-sound Doppler under my belly. Amidst the swooshing sounds from the Doppler came the strong quick beats of our baby's heart reassuring me. I knew our baby was fine. And this knowing gave me the strength to continue on.

Again the deep-bellied moans arose within me. Cueing in to my sounds, Bruce softly whispered in my ear, "Imagine that your breath is as deep as the ocean, Colette. As you inhale your breath is like the undercurrent drawing the waves back in, restoring energy. As you exhale," he continued, "release your breath, let go of the pain, just as the wave breaks on the shore."

As I had done night after night using the yoga breathing I made a whispering sound. I dove deep into the pain with my inhalation and released it with my exhalation. Yoga became my meditation. I was aware of everything - thoughts, sounds, sensations - but now they were at a safe distance. My attention was completely on my breath. I lost awareness of time. In this timelessness, the ebb and flow of the ocean sounds in the background from the cassette recorder, along with Bruce's fluid visualizations helped to inspire my rhythm until this alarming scream broke the rhythm. I tried to stuff the sounds and quiet them but pain seared down my back and leg. I'm going to die, I thought.

With a firm no-nonsense urgency to her voice my midwife said, "Colette the baby is getting tired. You've got to push your baby out now!" There was no thinking or hesitation as the primal guttural sounds roared through me. I surrendered into the darkness, the unknown, letting go of everything, the pain, my body, and my life.

"It's a boy!" Bruce cried as he held me closer choking back tears. My hands reached down between my legs and tenderly slipped around his little wet body bringing him to my breast. My body shook with relief and sobs of joy as I lovingly held our son. But all who witnessed the oddity of my leg spasming uncontrollably, including myself, knew something was terribly wrong.
After the birth, tests revealed that I had a severely ruptured lumbar disc almost completely compressing my spinal cord. Several months later I opted for surgery and began my long process of healing through yoga.

Now, as I look into the anxious unsure eyes of the hundreds of pregnant women who come through my classes each week, I know the vastness of their strength even if they are not yet in touch with it. Yoga means union - union of the mind, body and spirit. It is because of my experience of giving birth, that I can tell these women who are soon to birth, "Breathe in softly, exhale smoothly."