attachment parenting

Day 11 – Sunshine, smiles and some midnight musings.

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

Ahhh what a difference comes with the weather. I know I rambled about this already, but it was just so reinforced today with my dad here for a visit. The kids played outside while I got some house bits sorted, including more of our decor put away ready for moving, and then we head to town for ice creams and a park play.

These are the kinds of things I used to do all the time, and I think in part over the winter, I’d lost sight of how much impact the weather has on me.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy winter, because I do… but my kids struggle to get out the house; and so I find being stuck indoors very hard. I shared how much easier it all feels with my partner and he said “darling you aren’t meant to live life indoors” … he’s right. Generally but also because for my and my mental health, getting out is essential!

This past winter P brought up some of his birth imprints; including feeling rushed and pushed out before he’s ready. It came up in our getting out the house  which would take up to 3 hours on some days. I didn’t have the language for it all at the time, but now I see this need for absolute control as a way to regain some of what was lost in his birth.

When I first heard about them, I knew, birth imprints made sense to me… albeit a little ‘out there‘ in terms of understanding them. Working through this one with P – whcih outside of some play has involved ONLY working on my own nervous system, I feel so strongly about the way they can impact us.

Diving deeper and learning more has been super interesting and I am right in the middle of some books now, fascinated.

The changing weather helps us, because as it gets brighter and warmer, he’s more willing to come out. When we had a garden that was enclosed, he would spend hours climbing and being out… so I’m looking forward to this again. My intention is to build a space for them to really be able to spin and jump and play in the ways that they need for their bodies. His body NEEDs to move, and there’s nothing wrong with that… it helps his brain. Through the winter  he slowed down a lot, got into more lego and sat for ages, focused and content. Now, he’s jumping and climbing everything… I’m grateful to go along with as much as I can.

Seeing them play and find creatures has been epic. P spend a long time telling my dad all about different pokemon evolutions while he ran around or enacted different scenes. My dad, focused on looking for caterpillars, listened and repeated back all the right things to validate to P that what he was infodumping was important. Its got me thinking about finding a pokemon magazine or similar, to see if it’ll encourage some reading. So far, he adores looking through our pokemon encyclopedia and he is memorising the evolutions from there.

K, obsessed with bugs at the moment, pottered after my dad with a magnifying glass, thrilled to be out for so many hours with someone finding him all the things to look at and hold.

I haven’t dived into much of his birth recently, though I’m drawing on aspects of all of theirs as I plan for our next.

A was at preschool so in between house jobs, I’ve started making my birth plans … though I advise for a plan A, B, C and D, I’m starting with our actual plan, and then, our emergency one. Over the next week, I’ll be creating more in depth scenario based bits… and packing a bag I don’t intend to use. 

I have been very chilled so far, and as we get closer I feel really trusting that this birth will bring what it needs to. I have had lots of quiet and I’m grateful for it… but that’s for another share. Probably not tomorrow’s. 

For tonight,  I’ll leave it,

With love, Rohana x

Day 1

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

I have been avoiding this; so here I am day 1 of 40. Committing to myself, possibly as a way to, once these days are done, say goodbye to my blog and move elsewhere.

I have no idea what I’ll write over 40 days, but tonight, I’m musing over commitment, and how, I am so deeply committed to some things, but then others are so goddamn hard. I commit to projects, or people and last year I deeply committed to my own personal practice. This year though, I have tried and tried and continuously found myself avoiding or excusing a lack of consistency.

Perhaps it’s the lack of novelty that my ADHD brain thrives of.

More likely, I think it’s fear. Showing up for myself was a fun experiment last year… but this year, it feels like IF I show up and ask myself to stretch, I might actually grow and change is hard. My type A control freak inside is squirming… because ultimately everything about this year has screamed a lack of control.

From an unexpected, joyfully (and quickly) manifested pregnancy that has me on the path to meeting our 4th baby soon, to a house move, new courses and opportunities, healing work that I have delved into and research that has me continuously taking notes, feeling triggered, and requiring space from. My kids have kept me on my toes more than ever and friendships have evolved through heartbreak, joy and curiosity. I am genuinely in love with my life, and also feel like there’s a whirlwind going on, and I have to accept that none of it is within my control.

So committing to this, 40 days of writing… is within my control. And that is scary! And exhilarating.

Tonight; my ramble on commitment has lead me to this thought: When I commit to myself, I heal the spaces where my ancestors didn’t have the opportunity to show up for themselves in this way, and I pave new paths, create new neuropathways in my brain, and in small steps, create spaces for my children and those afterwards, to commit to themselves with more ease. I am doing this work slowly, one trembling, uneasy, curious baby step at a time.

I like the idea of that, because when baby’s start to walk, though they are bold and headstrong, they are also trembling… and committed. The intrinsic motivation of a little person taking their first steps is one of the most incredible things to see… doesn’t matter how much they mess it up, they keep coming back, and of course they do it.

If I consider my commitment to myself over the past 6 months like that; it’s kinder, more graceful… it’s been a lot of hesitant steps, backing away, and now I’m trying again.

Tomorrow, we’ll see what comes;

With love,

Xox Rohana

Connection, Causal Comments and Costumes of our Life

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

I wrote this more than a year ago … for some reason, I thought it wasn’t right to share at the time. Perhaps because I felt raw from the day, or perhaps because I got busy … either way, I’m sharing it now. Because as I read it back, I realised just how much I needed my own words today… and I am so immensely grateful that I have this space to write.

With love, from a past version of myself xox

” I was on the bus today, and of course, bus trips mean lots of people. Always opinions, some lovely, others not; but more recently, as I’ve been building up to solo trips with the kids again in the better weather, with them all being older, and E, now 20 months having lots more opinions about the buggy; I’ve thought about how we use the time travelling to connect.

Today, we played I-spy, our version of the game, using colours instead of phonics, and sometimes throwing in the odd shape or physical reference like ‘tall’ or ‘wide’ instead. The kids sat, and looked around, and E started to whine because he was strapped into the buggy. Luckily, another mum got on, and the connection between him and her daughter began, until he fell asleep!

We (mums) chat for a while, talking about kids and coping; she shared some wisdoms about being a mum of 7, and I shared some frustrations about villageless parenting. We connected – over the shared experience of splitting ourselves into multiple pieces, stretching so our children could have parts of us, and simultaneously loving the chance and choice to do this, and being exhausted by it. I told her I thought her family must be beautiful, and I admired her honesty. She told me that it gets easier and harder, affirming that no choice is right, but that we do what we can with the knowledge we have.

A brief, meaningful chat, interrupted by a gentleman getting on the bus and sitting down adjacent to my older 2. “you’ve got your hands full” he said gruffly to me.

“Oh I really do” I replied. “Full of love with my amazing children”.

“Uh, not all the time I bet” was his response!

The other mum looked at me and we shared a moment of horror at the roughness in his voice.

“They really are amazing” I told him. It was our stop. We left.

And once again, I thought about connections. Some positive, some negative, all, inevitably will have an impact on our energy fields. Why do some people feel so harshly about children? Why do they judge when there is more than 1? What did he gain? What was so triggering for him? I wondered aloud a little, with the general cautionary calls to my kids about the road. I thought about how hard it might be for some people to see kids being so free and confident, when they might have never been given the chance to be so.

I wondered how my children felt. Though they know we’ve had these comments and conversations before, so they said they were hardly ruffled, more interested in the scrap metal yard instead. But how does this impact children? How do we make them feel when we comment about how hard they are constantly?

What message do we send when we say, I’ve had enough of you? Because in most instances they never get to say that to us.

Thinking about my children, and the brief beautiful encounter with this lady, I remembered a quote I’d read in an email this week by Rupaul that “You’re born naked and the rest is drag”.

Kindness costs nothing.

The appearances we choose every day impact every single human around us. We are born naked, and needing others to survive… as we grow we create costumes for ourselves every season of life… and yet, when we die, we return to the earth .. dust. The short space of time in between, in the costumes we choose may be brief, but it is so powerful.

The lady on the bus today gave me hope… and it was thanks to her, that though the gentleman’s words stung, I could brush them away, and hold my babies close. A year ago, I might have been brought to tears (probably would have!). Thank you, whoever you are. I am grateful.”

That’s it.

That’s the post. A short meeting that left a big impact.

Whatever your day looks like. Wherever you are in the world. I hope you know this:

You are loved. You are important. You are so much more than enough.

The Ripple of a Supported Postpartum Period.

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

The experience of welcoming a new human earthside is a remarkable journey. I’ve done it 3 times… and the feeling I get when I share my experiences, and listen to others is incredible. There is something so sacred about birth.

However, though absolutely deserving of the attention it gets; birth is the highlight in media and many conversations; with postpartum being a little left on the wayside. For first time parents, there is some emphasis placed on the changes of this transitional period (though by no means enough); but after that, it kind of just dissapears into the noise of everything.

Postpartum is just as – if not more – sacred that birth.

As I prepare to deliver a session next month on the postpartum period to some wonderful Doulas in training, I am called to write about it here too.
In part, this is because, through the whole rollercoaster of parenthood, the attention, support and social associations between male and female parents is so different. I honestly cannot speak from stories of same sex couples; because to date I only know 2 same sex parent families who’ve had children, both of whom are female identifying. That said, we’ve all seen the memes where mum goes to the shops and is expected to ‘control the toddler’ versus dad who is ‘so wonderful’ for literally being a parent.

Nonetheless, outside of social expectations, speaking to men about their experiences postpartum – it is just as lonely, if not more so for them. It is isolating. It is hard. They receive even less support, with many (much needed) services aiming to support mothers as they transition into motherhood, and few doing the same for fathers.

Yet, it is, in my opinion, vital to recognise, support and celebrate the role that fathers play in the postpartum period.
Supporting families as a whole unit here, in these early months, can lay the foundations for a family life that is built on a strong sense of connection, trust and nurturing. Not only is the child or children in a far more stable, healthy environment for their emotional growth, but both parents are more likely to communicate kindly with each other, have compassion, and connect in a more intimate way – which, let’s be honest, isn’t going to harm anyone’s sex life.

How can we support families as a whole unit?

In my postpartum prep session I dive deeply into conversations about the 4th Trimester and ways we can really support families.

If I could gift any new parent something, it would be this support. A step towards that is this information.

Nourishing the Body with Good Food:

One of the most fundamental ways to provide support is by ensuring that postpartum families are nourished with good food. In the absence of being able to literally take someone food (because honestly thats a BIG task), recommending recipies or supporting them to create a meal train where friends/famkly bring food, can make a huge impact.

The demands of parenting, combined with sleep deprivation and physical recovery from labour and birth, will massively affect new parent’s energy levels. Fathers, in particular, often are expected to step up to ensure that the family is well-fed during this vital period – and a sense of support and direction is helpful.

Nutrient-rich meals not only aid in physical recovery but will contribute to state of mind. When both parents are nourished with wholesome, healthy foods, they are less likely to falter in moments of stress, because they are physically having this need met.

Rest

In a fast-paced world, the idea of rest that isn’t justified by some kind of productivity beforehand might seem elusive. However, the fourth trimester calls for a major shift in perspective, where rest is acknowledged as a precious commodity. This is as true for fathers, who at least in this country are required to go back to their day jobs only 2 weeks after baby arrives, while still adjusting to their role as supporting the family in this new way.

Many conversations centre how fathers can take on more responsibilities. In part, yes I agree, because nursing a baby is a full time job and mums need rest. But, radically, I also assert that fathers should prioritise rest.

This should absolutely be a conversation before baby arrives. Dishes can be minimalised. Hoovering doesn’t have to be as often as it was. The house will be a mess and that’s okay. When dad’s rest is prioritised alongside mum’s, there is more balance, more opportunities for meaningful conversation and more joy.

Mental health

The last big focus in creating a supported postpartum experience, without diving into the other (essential) aspects mental health.

Yeah that’s too vague Rohana … we all know mental health matters, but how do we do anything about it?

  • Chat openly and honestly. Before having baby and after. Every step of the way… honest, non-judgemental conversations are essential. This is probably best done when everyone has been fed, and there isn’t insane levels of sleep deprivation being used as competitive advantage in the who feels worse game. But seriously, taking to partners about the JOYS and the things that are hard, makes a difference.
  • Divide and Conquer. Divide jobs/tasks. Remove everything that isn’t essential to be done by you/your partner. Delegates the none essentials. Easier said than done… I’m banking on the idea that you’ve got a gorgeous groups of family and friends who want to help (and can) OR a wonderful doula. If neither applies (it didn’t for me!), then lower the bar massively. Do the essentials. Survive. This isn’t forever.
  • Find friends. Groups. Peanut. Facebook local groups. Whatever is an option… if you can, use it. Parenting is isolating, and by having someone to give and receive some solidarity around, it helps. *careful not to just find ranting buddies who keep you feeling low*
  • Lastly, do things for joy. Don’t give up hobbies. Don’t ask your partner to. In fact, schedule them in with extra vigilance, because being reminded that you’re a human outside of helping this tiny person grow and survive is really important.

There’s so much more to say… creating a supported, wholesome postpartum and beyond experience isn’t going to magically happen. It is worth the work though, because when you are supported, you feel safe.

When you feel safe, your nervous system capacity can hold more.

When you feel safe, baby (and other children) feel safe too. Their mirror neurons mimic your regulated state.

Then, the cycle of safety, support, joy repeats. It cycles. And grows.

This time for growth and unity as a famkly builds the sturdy foundations of trust and connection, which, when toddler and teenage years come by, will be something that holds everyone through.


As ever, thank you for reading.

Rohana

#Mumlife isn’t easy…

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

Finding inspiration to write is not always easy, not is it easy to find time when a good idea hits. These past couple of weeks I have had several “I could do a blog post about that” moments, but inevitably the time passes and I haven’t managed to open up my laptop. Add on to that the fact that TP is extremely possessive of my phone when it is out, these moments pass.

Thinking about that though, about how fleeting moments are, and about how quickly time slips away, is itself, something to share. Recently this has come up a lot for me; the hours and days we wish away. At 27 weeks pregnant now, with a 25 month old, I will be the first to admit that I take a lot of it for granted. I ‘just know’ that tomorrow we can make up for today, or that after nap-time we can do something fun, or that the weather will be better next week for us to go out walking more. I assume that I will continue to be able to run around after my son, and pick him up, throw him around and let him ride ‘monkey’ on my back down the stairs. He sits on my belly and we joke he is sitting on his sister as he climbs onto my shoulders.

On the other side of it though, are the long hours where I thank god and the BBC for Mr Tumble and let TP sit through many, many episodes just so I can eat and cook and do the washing and check my email and maybe if I’m lucky go to the loo before he gets up and demands attention. There are 5am starts and 10pm bedtimes, the food strikes or tantrums for anything other than marshmallows, the milk hunger to the point my nipples feel they might fall off, and the hitting and biting that is his current method of expressing upset and anger. These are moments that I want to pass quickly, because staying present and accepting is hard, it’s easier to wish the hour away and want to ‘move on’ to the next thing on our schedule.

Yet these are also the moments I think back on with a wry smile, because the cuddles and healing that happen after are often the best hugs and cutest conversations. So why do I wish them away?

Because I am tired.

Because I am embarrassed.

Because they make me feel like I am raising a ‘trouble’ child.

Because accepting and dealing with the harder minutes is not easy. Parenthood is not easy.

But it is worth it.

Life with a Toddler: Bathroom Do-overs

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

Occurred March 1st 2019.

We’ve had a rough few days recently, lots of tears and a lot of emotional stuff happening for my son. Tonight was no different, he refused to eat dinner, cried because I said we were not reading a book for the 12 time and then splashed water everywhere while brushing his teeth. He loves running the water and splashing.

We (I) finished. He didn’t want to leave the bathroom.

I picked him up, moved him and closed the door switching off the light. And of course he cried. And cried. And cried.

Then it clicked.

Rewind – we had a do over!

I got down to his level, apologised for rushing him and told him we would try again. He got back up on his stool by the sink, ran the water and waited. I think he was a bit confused.

I asked him to shut the water off and help me turn off the light. It was magical! He shut off the water, got down off his little step and said “up” so he could read the light switch. He helped me close the door and said goodbye to the bathroom.

We carried on much happier and I could breathe a little easier knowing I had succeeded in helping him overcome at least 1 of the many hardships of his daily toddler life.

My takeaway point:

I learned that do-overs can save a situation. Paying attention and helping my son feel in control moves us away from near meltdowns to a way of working that may take 5 minutes longer, but that it keeps the peace.