Sarah Spiegel Dunn joins us for her continued telling of her Motherhood journey.
“It wasn’t about me. It wasn’t about my body. It was all about this tiny being and getting him safely to the world. I had no thought for anything else except his SURVIVAL.
Then a powerful and amazing thing began to happen for me in the first weeks of being a new mama.”
It was two weeks before my due date, and I found myself at Target close to closing time, hunting for the perfect night gown to wear during labor. A “labor outfit” was something on so many of the “what to pack for the hospital” lists, and it seemed really important to me in those last weeks of me time as I waited for my son’s arrival. As I hemmed and hawed over the right one, another pregnant mama who looked equally as pregnant as I appeared, and as we connected and realized how close our due dates were, she shared that she too was searching for a labor outfit.
Flash forward THREE weeks later to the hospital on day three of my induction (baby boy was pretty cozy in there) and the labor outfit was tucked away in my hospital bag, completely forgotten. I had been wearing a robe and a nursing bra for most of the labor, but when it came close to pushing time and my doula asked me, “do you want to get naked so you can be skin to skin when he arrives?” I said yes without hesitation. Thus I found myself totally naked (as so many mamas who had gone before told me I probably would be), entirely unconcerned with anyone around me and focused only on the task at hand.
There was no time for modesty. I pushed and breathed and counted and did all the things, and eventually held my son for the first time still completely naked in a room full of hospital staff.
The point of sharing this somewhat long story about being in my birthday suit for my son’s birth day? Boundaries FLY out the window in the event of creating and welcoming life. At least they did for me.
It wasn’t about me. It wasn’t about my body. It was all about this tiny being and getting him safely to the world. I had no thought for anything else except his SURVIVAL.
That theme, which started there in labor, was a thread that snuck its way into the moments, hours, days after labor, into the months after labor.
My brain started to focus on protecting this tiny new human at all costs. It was instinctual and shocked me with its intensity.
Hours later, still numb from my epidural and not able to walk, we hosted our first guests in our hospital room. I found myself smiling and making small talk and passing this new being around, but also exhausted and wanting alone time and wanting to soak in those first moments with my son. And all the worries snuck in.
Was he ok? Did he need to eat? Was he warm enough? Did he feel safe? And could someone just please hand my son back to me!!?
This was the first time post partum, I would allow a boundary of mine to be crossed without speaking up for myself. And although there would be several more instances like this one in the first weeks of my son’s life, these would also be some of the last times I would let someone else set the rules for what I was comfortable with.
Once we left the hospital, I felt myself fading into the background as loved ones excitedly came to meet our new arrival. They were excited to see me, but could they hold the baby? I needed to nurse, but could I just do it there or wait a little while longer so they could hang out with the baby? They knew I was tired, but could they just stay and visit a bit longer?
After a few weeks (or days that felt like weeks) of observing these shifts around me, I felt a change within me. How could others give me what I needed if I never shared what it was? If I never established the boundary? I couldn’t expect them to magically know what felt comfortable and uncomfortable.
A powerful and amazing thing began to happen for me in the first weeks of being a new mama. A ferocity, a direct-ness, and a power emerged that I had never felt before and that I didn’t know I was even capable of.
Years of struggling to say what I needed, years of me working on speaking up and “living my truth” as a friend so often reminded me, melted away, because now it wasn’t just about me. It was also about my son.
It’s evolutionary: the need to protect and put the child first. The need to be close. The literal strings we may feel those first times we are separated.A new identity as a mama bear started to emerge. And it felt awesome.
And I began to wonder: with all of that emotion; all of this love and protectiveness and fierceness, how do I stay me?
How DO we as mothers stay true to ourselves and our passions and not LOSE that spark that was so easy to hold before becoming a parent? Not lose ourselves entirely in the new role of fierce mama while also still embracing it? And how do we do that when it’s a societal norm to also push the parent to the background a bit and focus so much on the child?
For me, finding time that is MY time has been so important. It’s finding 20 minutes to exercise (which started out as a way to reclaim my body but has become a huge source of calm and sanity to me!). It’s finding time to meditate for two minutes. It’s finding time to SHOWER. Yes, last week I realized I only got a shower in two days out of seven. (sorry not sorry.) But getting showered and dressed before my partner heads off to work makes me feel like a HUMAN being. Getting sweaty for twenty minutes a day helps me clear the fog of my brain and see things a bit more clearly.
These moments were harder to come by at first, and it took some serious effort to stay consistent in creating space and time for me. The early days postpartum of finding mama solo time may be literally three minutes and then running back in the nursery to scoop up a crying baby. Eventually it may be ten minutes. Eventually naps (MIGHT) happen and it could be twenty.
I am learning the constant evolution of being a mama and still being me. The two are connected. They will continue to shift and grow. I am a mama. And I am who I was before I became one. Other dear mama friends and I are constantly in the conversation of boundary setting, learning when we fail to do so, and then circling back to try again. Just when we think we’ve got it, the baby or child changes, we change, the circumstances change, and we find something new to work through. We are in it together. And it doesn’t have to be perfect. That’s the evolution of it all.
Sarah Spiegel Dunn has had a long time love of building and supporting community and enjoys creating connection and transformation for individuals and groups through classes, workshops, transformational retreats, and trainings both locally and internationally. She loves the process of mentoring other yoga teachers through her one on one programs and supporting them in growing their own businesses and following their dreams.
In 2016, Sarah quit her 9-5 job to open Samudra Studio in Saco, which she has grown into a thriving community since then. Samudra will open its second location later this winter in downtown Biddeford.
Sarah gave birth to her son, Walden, last Valentines day and has enjoyed the journey into motherhood and learning to navigate being both a thriving, successful business owner and dedicated mama. When she’s not teaching yoga or spending time with her sweet family, you’ll catch her at the beach with her fur babies.
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