COVID19 in-house Day 45: Grateful for X

I started a gratitude alphabet but I'm starting from the end of the alphabet and moving up towards the beginning. It seemed like a good idea in these topsy-turvy times.

Today's gratitude letter is "X".

What is X? X is all those times when you felt bad. The missed opportunities, the broken promises, the betrayals, the words said in anger, the lost friend, the sick child, the lies, the fear, the sneer and the disdain.

Oh, what? Why am I grateful for all these things?

Let me turn that around and ask: would I only be grateful for the "good" things? Should I only be grateful for the things that make me happy? The things that feel nice? 

Or is being grateful a state of mind and a quality of spirit that endures, anyway. In qualunque momento e ovunque. Anytime, anywhere. Because, fundamentally, being grateful implies that you are aware that there is a world that's bigger than you can know, and you are grateful for that world, and open to its possibilities, to the extent that you admit that although sometimes the possibilities are manifest in an unpleasant or downright horrific and traumatic way, you decide to remain open, and to remain grateful.

Grateful for X means that I accept that awful and horrible things can happen in my life, or I can witness those things happening in the lives of others, and I don't have to either pretend they're not happening, or allow those things to destroy my belief in the power of love. 

No, I'm not talking about "everything happens for a reason." Reason has nothing to do with it. People with an intense, firmly rooted religious life might be able to believe that everything that happens to them is part of God's plan. This isn't a reasonable choice, that is, it isn't based on reason: it's a choice based on faith. You decide to have faith, and then you just have it, come what may.

It's the same with gratitude. Like a long marriage, I'm not going to only stay with my spouse when things are fun, sexy, and fulfilling. I'll also stick around when my spouse is acting badly (I'm not talking about actual abuse here), has the flu, gets old, or is having a life crisis. I will decide to be grateful, and then I'll just be grateful. I'm not only going to be grateful for the good, wonderful, fulfilling things that I receive. I have to be grateful for the whole bundle, or my gratitude isn't worth anything at all.

How do we continue to be grateful in these difficult times? I'm disturbed today. It's pouring out, so the streets are empty which means I can go for my 8 k run, so I'm grateful that I can run. But I have things on my mind: a friend lost her child last week - why? Why should someone who escaped persecution and death in Syria, who fled through Turkey, survived the rubber dinghy ride over to Greece, survived the camps, .... then lose a child in his sleep? I can worry endlessly about my kids for various valid and not valid reasons. I worry about my running buddy who is recovering from chemo. Of course, there's this virus out there that is not a hoax or a conspiracy, but is actually a dangerously infectious virus that can kill people. There's another thing to torment me.  I'm worried about my business: when can we open? How will we open? How will I hear what people are saying if they're wearing masks? (I'm a little hard of hearing and often rely on lips).

But I HAVE to be grateful. For the good things, and for the snakes and toads. 

Grateful for the flaws, the dark patches, the cracks, the scars. Grateful for lessons. Grateful for the black crow, glasses too full, mysteries. 

Trust Birth?

I read a post on the ubiquitous Facebook the other day about a triumphant birth. A woman and her husband went to the hospital with their doula. The woman laboured with the support of those around her - her doula, husband, and the medical staff. She required no drugs, no medical interventions at all. In fact, she had a natural birth in a hospital setting. Which is wonderful, joyful, and, unfortunately, increasingly rare.

Why did she have a natural birth? Was she lucky? Did she just happen to have the right combination of a good pelvis, an agreeable baby, health, happiness, strength, the right medical staff, and good timing? Or was it really because she did a prenatal class that was somehow better than any of the other prenatal classes out there? Or was she determined? Or was she a positive thinker? Or did she have some good karma coming her way?

Probably a little bit of all of the above. When I am working with a woman I feel confident about, she has a good combination of strength, flexibility, confidence, vulnerability, self-knowledge, and a touch of who-gives-a-shit. She may or may not have an amazing support system and wide hips. She may have had a terrible childhood, and she may not be a very nice person. She may be having trouble in her relationship. She may have a lousy relationship with her mother. She may be tiny. She may be fat. She might not eat too well.

But there is a certain woman power that she will have, that will come out when she is birthing, that reassures me that this woman will not be too much of a challenge during and after labor. I am confident that labor will unfold, it will be powerful and most probably painful. It may make her feel like she is going to die, but I will be able to keep her to her path.

Most doulas, midwives, and physicians can tell you that they have a sense of a woman who is heading for a natural birth, if she is given the chance. The problem with most hospital births these days is that very few women are even given that chance. The epidural rate for first time mothers in the hospitals in Montreal is over 90%. That is no chance at all, for a woman who is feeling labor for the first time.

So, as the Muslims say, pray to Allah, but tie your camel to a tree. That is, don't rely on faith to make things happen for birth. Although much of it is chance, or fate, karma, or the divine, what is left over is human intervention - or human strength - or woman power. Let it shine!

Sailing

There is a Muslim saying, "Pray to Allah, but tie your camel to a tree". There's a longer Jewish story about a fisherman who is having trouble in a storm and his boat is being blown towards a rocky shore. His advice is "Pray to God, but row away from the shore".

My oldest son is sailing across the Atlantic this summer. My friends and relatives have asked me if I am afraid for him. My answer is, well, actually, no. I know he is afloat in a 40 foot boat, bobbing on top of many thousands of feet of water. Rogue waves, storms, whales, and possibly even sea monsters do exist and are a threat. But his safety and well-being are not in my hands. I know he and his crew mates are conscientious and skilled. Beyond that, well, pray. Or at least have faith. Or just have a pragmatic or fatalistic view of the world. But the worst thing to do is either to live in fear, or to attempt to wrap yourself and your family in bubble wrap so as to avoid the rocky shore. At the same time, of course I am afraid. I would like my sons to stay at home and ... sit in the living room?

Of course, our fear and worry for our children starts when they are still in the womb. We try to eat well, to avoid dangerous substances. We wonder if they will be okay, even if we have an argument or become sad. Then during the labor and birth we try to have as gentle and positive an experience as possible, in the hopes that this will reflect on the small human's life.

Fear during birth has been discussed through history and is still a controversial subject. Unfortunately, it can be a pivot upon which a woman may make choices that can be dangerous for her and her baby. Of course, most of us, if we are told the baby may die if we do not do such-and-such, will agree to whatever it is immediately, in order to save the baby's life. Unfortunately, I have seen this type of prediction based upon bad science, or fatigue, or simply impatience, and I have seen women make choices based upon fear that they later regret.

The presence of a doula dilutes this feeling of anxiety and fear. We can radiate a sense of calm, that even when the most unexpected and difficult events take place, will allow everyone to do their work in a sensible and honorable fashion. We do not suggest that fearful predictions are wrong, but when a doula-assisted birth is going smoothly, and the woman and her partner are confident that the process is normal, then fear-based predictions are out of place. The medical staff will enter the room and recognize a normal, active process. The room is full of calm, concentration, activity, emotion, but the dominant feeling will not be one of fear.

So, my advice: keep your faith, but hire a doula!