I’m just home from another goodbye.

This one hurt.

They all have and will in different ways… but this one has been a friendship built around me as an adult, not around my kids. It’s different. 

I said goodbye and didn’t have to hold it together for my kids, so tears are falling… and I’m letting them. We’ve spent years here, made memories, had some really hard times and some really incredible ones.

I have had my biggest mental breakdown in this house, and I’ve also literally birthed one of my children here.

I’ve had my parenting choices questioned by people I thought I could trust… and I’ve had some of the most intimate connection and wonderful support, all within these moldy, damp, magnolia walls.

And now, we’re leaving.

Part of me says good riddance. There has been so much pain … the holes in the wall are only a snapshot of that.

Another part of me looks around and sees just how much strength has been created too.

And as tears roll, I pause my writing and tap … grateful, sad, loving, overwhelmed, it all exists in this moment.

Some people come into our lives by absolute accident, and end up having the most profound impact.

There are no reasons to connect, and yet we do.

The universe deciding that we need to share and shed light with different people.

Each one of the friends I am saying goodbye to this week has been a light, not all at the same time, not all in the same way… but all there. Sharing their brightness; creating ripples that impact me and those I will meet on our new adventures.

I told this particular friend I’ve been writing… and that today, day 39 means I’m nearly done. Its been vulnerable to show up here. It’s been interesting. It’s been exciting and hard and some days I’ve wanted to give up. But now, with 1 day left, I’m not done… I need to find a new way to share and connect more regularly. I’m ready to shed a little and step into something new.

Shedding layers.

Saying goodbyes.

Starting new.

This year I didn’t make resolutions … and I didn’t choose words (not alone at least). I set intentions for the year that were bigger than that.

To deepen friendships and build new relationships.

To call in a year of intense beauty, filled with ease, joy, prosperity, love and creation.

I am living this intentions right now. They are here… in the friendships… in the beauty… in the love.

My kids probably think I get a cheat sheet because with a phone we can still stay in contact with many friends. I understand.

They didn’t choose this.

They’re saying goodbyes too.

And I’m once again grateful for the blessing and curse that technology is.

Right now, I am focusing on some more current intentions; calling in seamless transitions… and fully aware that as I set them, I am also able to celebrate how we are living in a space that intentions are always coming into reality. It’s epic.

For tonight, goodbye

With love

Rohana x

Some days are beautiful and easy more than they are hard.

Other days, I want to disappear, crawl back into bed and hide.

Both are a real and true part of parenting… and of course, there are many many days where we have moments of in between.

That is why I call parenting a rollercoaster; because we really are constantly going on an up, down, twist and curve, with occasional loop-the-loops.

It’s not just parenting, but life. Parenting amplifies it, because not only am I responsible for my own nervous system, I’m also holding space and sharing my nervous system with the tiny people around me. It’s a blessing… and a curse.

Today has been one of those loop-the-loop days here; ironic given that yesterday I reflected on how my capacity has changed to hold more… today I shrunk right back down and struggled!

It has been the perfect example to get me thinking about how unfairly we treat young people, asking them to make big life choices at exactly the same time, pushing them to tick boxes, and squeezing their capacity, so that everything is “standardised” when in reality, we are real, whole human beings with multitudes of experiences every single day.

The other day, I was fun, connected, playful. If you had seen me today, flustered, grouchy, and fighting with my 6yo because he wouldn’t take personal responsibility (oh I know!)… you’d have thought I was absolutely insane. And aren’t we all a little?

Both are aspects of parenting.

Neither make me a better or worse mum. Just human. Trying to love and hold and honour these experiences of raising humans. I don’t doubt I’ve got many things wrong… and I also know I get lots of things right. Whether or not there’s a balance, only time will tell.

I wrote this at the park:

View this post on Instagram

It was true for me then and much of it is true as I write this now. The rollercoaster is real!

It doesn’t make this harder day any less valid.

So, a heaped tablespoon of compassion… for all of us… and a repair that looked like saying “I love you, let’s try again tomorrow”.

It’s enough.

With buckets of love, sending spoons your way,

Rohana x

I came across this title ‘our words matter’ in my journal, and it was blank. I had a minute and thought, well this is perfect, my 40 days of writing can be to share this today… so, a poem inspired by past me.

The voice in our minds
Is often born when we are little
Those early years
When grown ups are the gods
And we are learning
Soaking up the world
When we believe that what they say
Is the biggest and most important
Truth

From our time in the womb
We hear voices
And these voices
Stay with us
Sometimes forever

It might be

The voice that tells us we are
Beautiful
Smart
Loveable
Held

It can also be
The voice that pulls us down
Annoying
Dramatic
Naughty
Useless

The voices we carry,
From childhood
Through life
Are often those of our parents
Brothers
Sisters
Teachers
Friends
Though the latter less so

It makes me wonder
Not only about my own voices
But those my children will carry
It brings hope
And guilt
And curiosity
About the voices those around me
Have inside them too

Thanks for reading,

With love, Rohana x

So at the start of these 40 days I said I’d share a little about our birth plans; and so this is it .

There isn’t a huge amount to it really, lots of prep work has been internal work, my own healing and working through fears and expectations, and coming to a space of real radical acceptance that what will be, will be. My tattoo reminding me of life’s motto as usual!

I have a loose plan to have another water birth at home, and this time have a cord tie, and plan to have a cord burning ritual after. That said, I have 3 kids already so I’m open to the plan changing and using the tie and cutting it instead. We will be encapsulating part of the placenta, planting part and my oldest has requested placenta cake, so I’m going to see what we can make there! He is very excited and wants to be involved, I think in part because his placenta wasn’t kept, so this will be healing for both of us.

Outside of that, I if the universe allows am really really hoping that I will be able to video/photograph some of my own labour, because last time we hired an incredible birth photographer and this time I have done a birth photography workshop (with the absolute goal of, once I am ready to take on clients) attending and photographing births for families myself. I am beyond excited by this!

We do have a transfer plan, and an emergency plan, something I talk about in my Womb To Arms course because though we want the ideal plan, it’s necessary to think about what could happen too. I’m packing a baby essentials / postpartum bag (which doesn’t have any baby clothes yet!) and I’m basically winging the rest.

Not the fancy in-depth plan most people have, but I’ve really come to a space where I believe that a majority of the prep I can do is internal. I am not using my epi-no which I have for my 2 previous births, I am not colostrum harvesting, I am not trying to find any reason to rush. I am fully trusting this baby and their timing; and having not had contact with midwives since my 22 week scan, I am leaning into my own wisdom and being guided by those who have birthed before me.

I plan to contact the team when we move but I’m not in any rush, baby and I are comfortable and I am confident – and if I get worried or need to see someone, I will; but right now, the plan is for the most normal, boring, magical, seamless birth experience possible. Once we get up to our new home and set things up, then I might have a different approach.

That said… this isn’t to pretend like everything has been sunshine and roses and easy…

I have also had days where I want to know exactly how things will pan out, and the lack of control has had me crashing. The boxes instead of a birth space takes a toll and the braxton hicks are a really new experience to me. Baby and I regularly chat about just hanging in until we get to Scotland, though honestly I hope we go closer to 42 so I have more time to prep food and settle.

Which reminds me, since I’m sharing plans today – I am loosely planning birth but intensely planning postpartum (hence the desire for a few weeks to settle) with food, some herbs, drinks, and a rest period. I am determined to honour the sacred postpartum space more than ever; and once we get there, I will be looking for a small village to lean on. We have some incredible connections and wonderful people already, but until I’m there, it’s all in the air. I haven’t really approached anyone about the postpartum space yet. I won’t be hosting anyone for a few weeks, and I will be leaning on H – while also recognising this is a transition for him too – and protecting my energy as much as possible.

In Ayurvedic medicine, there is a saying “42 days for 42 years” suggesting that the first 42 days post birth will impact more than the next 4 decades of life. I didn’t do any of this with my previous babies… but this time, I know more, and I am absolutely going to do differently.

Thanks for reading; ask questions, comment, find me on IG, lets connect!

With love, Rohana x

Nearly a full 40 now , where has it gone?! I had the realization that for anyone getting a daily email this might be getting annoying now, but I promise, it’s not forever. I’ve loved showing up like this, but I couldn’t keep it up indefinitely. That said, I’ve had so much inspiration and there is likely to be some more regular (weekly or bi-weekly) stuff to come.

The other night we had big feelings explode over a game and time and attention from me. It got me thinking about RSD, which is Rejective Sensitive Dysphoria, something I see in myself a lot, and have been seeing in my daughter recently with increasing frequency. I am currently assuming it relates to the major life changes unfolding, but it is on my radar as something to document, observe and try to hold space for, because I have a personal relationship with it.

She wanted to play, and colour me in so I was a rainbow, and though it wasn’t my absolute favourite idea, I didn’t mind. I gave her some rules, and she was loving it, decorating my legs, drawing pictures and then showing her grandmother who we were on video chat with. Prior to colouring me in, we’d played her favourite game with no tech involved, so I felt pretty confident that we’d had time together. The playdough was out so there was a few different bits going on, with P (big brother) creating an elaborate game and K asking for bedtime tv to wind down. After a lot of colouring, I told her we were done for now, my legs were rainbows (and sore) and she could join me and P or chill with K for 20 minutes. She didn’t love the idea and tried to introduce 3 seperate games while P waited for me to be the extra hands in the story he was creating. I said no to her, and we began.

She melted! She cried and stomped and screamed and I gave her space, giving P some time (though not enough) and eventually she came down demanding I say sorry because I had been mean. I say demanding because though she’s little, her voice and willpower is big and she was adamant that I was in the wrong.

Looonnnngggg story short, I ended with P a while after, not quite having given him the full extent of game time or attention he wanted or deserved but knowing we’d had time that morning, and I have to balance them. K was getting upset because of A and I was needed.

We did teeth through tears, and snuggled with both of them sobbing into me. I knew they were tired but this was more. K then let out that he missed daddy and granny and grandpa and I realized calling them might have been a trigger. Not that it’ll stop me, but he’s coming to that age now, and needs some attention to release feelings after – actually this scenario with P was one of the catalysts into play therapy and parenting for me. A then also revealed her best friend hadn’t been at school, and it came together.

We hugged, we read a book, and they slept. P came up when he was ready, though I had fallen asleep and only woke to find him snuggled in next to us.

This is normal for us. Truthfully, I think most families have a version of this kind of experience more regularly that we talk about; but for us, this is nearly daily on some level. We have moments of real ventral vagal too, and they flit between, but every day there is a rollercoaster. It’s hard, and a sign that we are raising emotionally healthy kids…

” What? Really? “

YES!

I have many conversations about this, how their extreme emotions often means they are being more emotionally healthy and if you’ve never looked at it that way, I invite you to. It is hard and exhausting for us, absolutely, but actually, by making sure they can express these big feelings, and then also bringing them back into a space of ventral vagal (which is the good, joy, contented stuff), we are showing them how to navigate rather than repress their emotions.

Essentially, though it might be harder now, it’s putting in the work in the toddler years and (hopefully!) reaping it in the teens. It’s playing the long game! Does that make sense ?

Anyway, I’d love to hear what you think about this because I’m feeling very inspired so comment, email me, come find me on IG, lets chat!

With love, thanks for reading,

Rohana x

I wrote this in November 2023… but tonight I’m coming back to it. My brain is filled with many many thoughts… and a lot of them are about Palestine.

I am political, that won’t change. I tried to stop …for years I shut it off… but I can’t. I don’t want to. My children fuel a lot of my feelings, and I don’t always create or consume the way I’d like, but ultimately, I can’t separate parenting and politics, and if you’re reading this, you’re likely a human who feels the same.

I walked in the rain

And the thunder

Reminded me of the bombs

I’ve heard on my phone

I closed my eyes

And asked the universe

For a little more strength

To witness this intense world

I sent up a prayer

And expressed my gratitude to the trees

And the thunder boomed

While I thought of the families

Not under joyful rain

Under dust and rubble again

I’m flitting between hopeless and numb, and rage-filled. Mostly I’m also trying to get through the days… we’ve got a few left here, and a few left of writing. It’s intense and rollercoaster-ish… hard and beautiful.

If you’re feeling the same, solidarity. I see you.

Thanks for reading,

With love, Rohana x