By Kathryn Miranda

April 9, 2000

I participated at a child’s birth for the first time last year. It was amazing and

awesome, just as I had hoped it would be. It was the miracle of natural rhythms

that goes on betwixt and between the modern influence of technology and hospital

procedure.

In Alexander lessons, we often say: "Leave yourself alone and the right thing does

itself." Or, "Stay out of the way and the right thing does itself."

We rarely experience this in our lives. So much of our life has become about control

and intervention of the natural processs. Childbirthing is an important example.

Things happen that call for our intervention. In my colleague Lauren’s childbirthing,

it was the irregular heartbeat of the baby, which called for induced labor .

Of course, leaving yourself alone and staying out of the way are nearly impossible

most times. But when you persist and find yourself carried along by a natural process,

you become transformed in some way by the experience. This can certainly happen

with childbirth, it can also happen with the simplest movement like a breath or a step

or reaching out to shake a hand.

There is a wonderful book about the natural, sensual world and how we have become

separated from these forces. It’s called The Spell Of The Sensuous by David Abram.

The author is an ecological philosopher, so this is not a light read, but he points out how we have lost a valuable dialogue with nature and how we we pay the price in a life that is imbalanced and out of harmony.

Rather than participants in a dialogue we hold ourselves separate and aloof from the animals and plants and even the sensual and organic nature of ourselves. Rather than participants we become managers of the wildness or witnesses to the instincts that arise and persist or we think of ourselves as victims to the mysteries of illness and pain.

There are many ways to reconnect to our natural process.

I found that by studying and practicing the Alexander Technique, just doing simple things like sitting, standing, walking, breathing; I could learn to stay out of the way and let the right thing do itself. Sometimes, not always, but I know it’s there for me if I will allow it.

October 8, 1999, here are a few notes about my experience.

If you have never been witness to a birth I highly recommend it. I had seen plenty of births acted on stage or on film, but that does not fulfill the emotional, sensational depth that the real experience does. Though sophisticated in my knowledge of what to expect, I felt naïve and curious and excited.

Most of the time things were quite ordinary. (Easy for me say; they were not my contractions!) It was hard to believe that a little gas pain would lead to the birth of a baby human. I waited and watched while the nurse and midwife monitored the contractions and the baby’s heart and checked the cervical dilation. These moments seemed endless, somewhat like other hospital or doctor’s visits. The patient is generally quite passive letting the medical staff do their things, some perfunctory and some amazingly skillful. Lauren however was not so passive. She takes responsibility for her experience with a passion for life and sensation and a commitment to conscious thoughtful choices in attitude and physical well-being.

As I watched and listened I used my Alexander Technique skills of staying back and being present in hopes that my attentiveness and openhearted presence was felt and helpful. Lauren had to do all the work: maintaining her focus on having that baby during the day staff’s watch; being clear on her needs for movement or staying still or hands held or legs supported or vomit bucket or wash cloth or mirror and at one point she even asked for forceps!

During contractions, Lauren was present, not carried away by the pain. She often released the pain through her hands, sending the tension out through a grip on an arm or a piece of furniture. She thought she was hurting us with her squeezes, but it did not feel so to me. Her grip was firm, expressive. I actually wished she would squeeze harder, it felt like she might have been holding back on her strength. But I guess she was squeezing where it counted. I could sense that she was riding her contractions, not fighting them. She discovered that she could ride the contraction smoother while in a little “monkey” and sending her hands into the table. The contraction monitor actually verified this.

During the second stage of labor, Lauren was putting so much energy into the pushing that one would think she would have collapsed during the non-pushing. But she kept taking care of herself, complaining, resting, asking for us to intensify or lessen our support, especially the angle her legs were held. Finally frustrated by the pushing, pushing with no apparent success. She cried, “I can’t do this.” Of course we all knew she could, and the midwife told her so. But she really didn’t think she was getting anywhere. I was standing by Lauren’s left shoulder holding her hand and wiping her brow. I could see the labia stretched and quite large like a taut curtain but I did not see any evidence of a baby. The midwife kept saying, “Yes! It’s coming. Just a little more.” Then Joan, another Alexander coach, got excited when she saw the baby’s head. Lauren had the brilliant idea to ask for a mirror. Mark, her husband, brought one. This made a huge difference in Lauren’s experience.

When the baby’s head emerged, I was awed. There was such gray skin on the little scalp and forehead and tips of the ears. I could not believe it. Then the final push and out it came into the arms of the midwife with a cry and a change of color from gray to blue. I was fascinated by the color of the skin and the sound of the cry. I forgot to look at the genitals. The baby was taken to the baby nurse and then we talked and someone said, “I think it was a boy.” Then I thought, “Well, Gareth, you lucky little knight. You have been birthed by a royal princess with her ladies in waiting, Joan the Stalwart Stewart, Brooke the Summer Bride, and Kathy of Southern Cheer”

The Alexander Technique of Syracuse

Kathryn Miranda

Certified Teacher of the Alexander Technique

Childbirth from an Alexander Perspective

Alexander Technique of Syracuse, Kathryn Miranda, Director.  kmmiranda@twcny.rr.com  or 315-412-4829