Olga after birth

Victory Epistle: A Birth Story

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Dear Lady Warrior:

This is a message about victory and power that comes through bringing a life into this world. It is a message about letting go of control and finding peace in the imperfection that is Birth. This is a vision about an emergence of a woman that is strong, passionate and inspired to take her experience and to transform it into the rocket fuel that will propel her into heights unseen, untested but thoroughly attainable because she is fearless.

YOU can do this. How do I know? Because I did it. And if I did it, so can you.

August 11th, 2015

I wake up approximately 1-2 hours before my water breaks. I cannot sleep. I wonder and run through my mind to test and see if I have any stresses that keep me awake, but I find no undue stress. So I just lie there, experiencing a few cramps, nothing neither frequent nor serious. This is what Braxton Hicks are, I thought. Eventually I decide to get up and visit the restroom.

As I make my attempt to maneuver myself out of the bed, I feel something flow out… and as soon as I finally stand up, the rest just gushes out. My water broke.

5:45am

Oh my God. I was so unprepared even though I’ve read countless accounts and listened to tens of proud mamas. Today was the day I was going to write up my birth plan, pack my bag and cast the mold of my belly.

My soul knew and kept me awake. I was high on expectation without even knowing it. Trust the process, lady!

I reach out to Chris, my husband, and wake him with a dazed voice…

“Chris, my water just broke.”

“Are you sure you didn’t pee yourself?” was his sleepy reply, after which we both jumped into action.

I recalled that a few days ago I was talking to my baby and a strange, very esoteric thought came powerfully through my mind. My baby told me “Mommy, just wait a little more. I am coming soon”. I thought it was my imagination as I had two more weeks to go.

I let my doula know, right after I called my mom in Massachusetts to tell them the glorious news that their granddaughter was going to be born that day.

I was shaking and shaking and couldn’t stop shaking. Chris tried to be helpful but my body was not my own. I ran to the computer to type up the birth plan, hoping that this would help me calm down.

I had a vision of exactly what my birthing experience would be. I am the quintessential type A personality, the teachers’ pet. The one that always sat in the front row, smack dab in the center. I even had a plan for how long it was going to take. Yep, my labor was going to be super comfortable and smooth and would last exactly 8 hours. Precisely. I would labor at home until the last moment and as soon as I was about to pop out the baby, I would run to the hospital on the winds of reason and successful planning and deliver in a seamless execution. I was going to be an example of all that had been done “right”.

Thankfully, I didn’t know that having my water leave me in such a copious amount meant that I didn’t have that layer of protection for me and my baby during the contractions. Labor barely started and something already went wrong.

I typed up the birth plan, printed off three copies. One for us, one for the midwives and one extra, in case someone misplaces one.

My doula arrives and I escort her into the guest room. She tells me to rest but I tell her I will do that as soon as I pack the bags and basically ask her to stay out of the way until I need her. Feeling pretty in control, Chris and I pack the bags.

I rest. We all watch movies. I walk the perimeter of my yard with dogs for company. As I walk, I go deeper and deeper into myself. The day sets behind the horizon … my doula and Chris come out to join me and sip beer. It was a long day. My contractions were still far apart but getting stronger. I started to lose track of time. I sensed the baby wasn’t coming that day.

I remained calm as I listened to the hypnobirthing CDs. I breathed and still felt in control. Chris and I worked on the belly cast to pass the time.

My doula put on the Tens unit on my back to help with the pain. It helped and I eagerly pressed the button whenever I sensed the wave coming upon me. Eventually, my doula suggested I get into the tub. I was afraid that the pain control would not be as great in the water as it was with the Tens unit. To my surprise the water felt amazing!

August 12, 2015

In the wee hours that Wednesday, my doula and I felt that the baby was coming! I was so excited and we contemplated remaining at home to deliver but finally decided to go to the hospital as we still would’ve had to do that after the birth of the baby.

We raced to the hospital. I tried to breathe through the contractions as I felt every bump in the road. Baby was coming. My suffering was almost over. I was glad as I was always told that my pain threshold was very low and that I was nuts to do it naturally. I wanted to show it to the doubters. Look at my prowess!

I was firm in my resolve to do this naturally.

As we walk up to the emergency entrance, at the door we meet a young lady leaning against the wall, who asks me if I am there to give birth. She suggests I get an epidural and then I would feel nothing.

I proudly tell her that no, I was there to do this naturally. NO epidurals!

I recall walking up to the birthing section, stopping to breathe and survive through the contractions… I couldn’t reply, I couldn’t pay attention to anything around me as I had to go deep within myself to make it through. If anyone talked to me …or near me… I felt sick. I couldn’t handle any additional stimulation.

We walked into the room around 2am that Wednesday morning.

After that …time blurred. We expected the baby very shortly as all the signs were there, but she still wouldn’t come. I walked the halls. I danced. Listened to CDs over and over. I did my squats and various other formations. The bath was my preferred method as my doula and Chris took turns to pour water over me…for hours. The contractions raced through my body in a ceaseless, merciless wave after wave…

I was hot and cold… I couldn’t find comfort in the pools of laboring sweat….The Tens unit had long ago lost its effectiveness in the fight against pain.

Surely this was the time, finally, for the baby to come….It was late evening…

My family was extremely worried…two days passed and no baby.

I stuck to my resolve. I WAS going to do this naturally.

I remember leaning against Chris and silently crying against his chest, 2-3 times…telling him I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t go on.

My doula, who had an extensive amount of experience with hundreds of births, many of them high risk, prepared me for the pushing phase as surely this was the transition time.

We allowed the midwives to check on me as we avoided any checks prior due to the risk of infection as it was so long since my water broke.

I longed eagerly to hear the confirmation of that impeding phase…

I almost died when they told me that I was dilated only 5 cm. I was very soft and the baby was low but I just wasn’t opening up. I remember almost crawling up the wall in that bathroom. I contemplated asking for pain relief or a C-section but I was far from being coherent or able to process and then verbalize any thought.

I felt God left me. I was so sure He was going to bless me as a child of God. I trusted Him. After 2 days of intense anticipation, I was still only halfway there.

I told Chris to let my family know that I needed their prayers now more than ever as I tried to hold on…one contraction at a time.

The midwives urged us to speed up the process. They brought out breast pumps, dusted them off from a forgotten corner. Time and time again, they kept pumping me to stimulate the contractions to get stronger… 15 minutes at a time was the prescribed formula as they didn’t want to over stress the body.

I began feeling the prayers as I started recalling various powerful scriptures from the Bible. I was holding on with every last atom of hope and trust as I repeated those verses over and over and over…

  1. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
  2. Nothing is impossible with God.

I remember either falling asleep or passing out between contractions as I went away to a muted someplace and came back into each contraction. I couldn’t think past that one contraction. To live, as I felt I was dying, I had to focus on the intensity of the present moment. I would collapse under the thought of the future of more contractions coming my way.

I remember thinking this is it for me. I cannot go on. I will expire.

Soon after thinking those thoughts, I heard the voice of my daughter again…in a very mysterious fashion crossing my mind.

She said, “Mommy, I am very sorry. So sorry. I am coming very soon. Just hold on a little more”.

I told her as I cried silently, “Take all the time you need, baby. Mommy is alright”.

We were a team. Throughout all the frequent checks and monitoring, her heart was strong. She reacted to the contractions like a Lioness-with vigor.

August 13, 2015

I felt fear overwhelm me at one point… Fear of complete lack of control. I didn’t know what was coming next and I was scared. So scared.

It was almost a spiritual realization. It was a helpless, cowering sensation as I was turned into water, a form which could take any shape in any container of a circumstance.

I finally felt the overwhelming desire to push at 8cm. It wasn’t something I could control. To try and stop this feeling was like trying to stop a train by your hands, in the middle of the tracks. I had neither energy nor stamina left to attempt.

The midwife team surrounded me in those last hours of my marathon journey. I remember someone urging me not to push but I was helpless in the clenches of this passion. My body writhed and I couldn’t stop it. The fire spread in my nether regions as my baby’s head finally peeked through. I felt her hair and my spirit was renewed. I was finally truly near to my joy.

I was led into the bed for my final pushes. At that final push, I felt that not only did I give birth to my baby but that I also gave birth to myself, a new me… a new era at 2:07am that glorious Thursday morning.

My baby breathed her first breaths as I cried out over and over-“My baby! My baby! My baby!”.

My joy and triumph was palpable and I tasted it and drowned in that sensation. I held my baby as she suckled at my proud breast.

Through the stitching and the uterus being massaged after the birth, I held onto my baby and my Victory.

I knew that moment that we were one, my baby and I…one team. We can go through anything and surpass any expectation. I felt that I could conquer the world… Like an Amazonian princess on top of the mountain. I felt that the elements and nature would be subject to me!

As days passed, I started to revisit my birthing experience, processing it one bit a time. Talking to medics and mothers. I had a lot to process, revisit-chew over and over.

But the conclusion is this:

I found peace in my experience and had forgiven myself and others for not having it my way. I no longer measure my success by my lack of failure. What I called failure I now call resilience.

I am water now, able to flow. I am unbreakable now that I was broken.

What a great start to our journey together, my Maya Sophia and I.

Olga and newborn Maya

We did it. That confidence would carry me through my first days and months of motherhood…sleepless nights and worried mornings, hazy days and tired afternoons. I knew that I would take each hour, one at a time…as I took hold of my contractions, one at a time.

I feel that my roar is now real, able to flex its muscle, primed to change the world…as in fact; I had changed the world already by giving birth to my baby. It is forever changed; future had been forever altered because I gave life.

You will never feel as powerful and proudly amazed at yourself as during those first moments of being a mother. Nothing will ever compare to what you just had done. Nothing. Every accomplishment will pale in comparison. You will feel that you hadn’t lived up to this moment… not truly. Not fully. I promise you that it will all be worth it!

You will be like Chris and I, walking around the shops and restaurants and cafes with chests thrice their size, silly grins on our faces. Loopy on our love for the baby. The aura of the newborn is huge, consuming everything in its stretch.

And yes, I do want another baby.

Sincerely Yours,

Fellow Mother in Arms

 

~Olga Pyshnyak-Lawrence

lover of passionate living and everything purple

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What is the meaning of Passionate Living?

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I’m setting out to write a book about passionate living and what it means to me. It’s a journey of self discovery, not only for myself, but also perhaps, for others.

At this moment the definition is vague. I’m not sure I’ve grasped the concept fully. I’ve tried slowing down and gearing up and moving forwards, while clearing out my past. I’ve tried being in the moment, slowly sipping my morning coffee with cream. I’ve tried, and still I’m trying to say yes to opportunities, to ignore the risk and just going for it, while losing my peace.

How do we keep in that tension? How do we stay in that magical, elusive spot called balance?

I think somewhere in there, between the tension of staying and going, there is that moment that may birth passion.











For starters, passion is something that may very well keep you awake at night. Case in point, myself. It is 1:52am and I am still awake. Full of untapped potential and great expectations for what comes next. I cannot sleep, so I must write. Writing makes me feel good. I don’t have much time during the day. My baby and responsibilities keep me busy. I’m also in the process of starting up a business with my friend.

Yes, passion makes you strive for something higher.
Yes, I am a Christian, so I will defer to my Savior for answers. Let’s see what He will let me find out!

Passion is a longing for something greater than oneself. It demands our time and energy but it gives us back the drive to make immense change. To start movements that cannot be stopped. To create waters that will flow and nothing will get in the way.

Flowing water cannot be stopped.


Passion must be fed and not starved, directed, but not stifled. It’s a gentle, fragile mistress that may turn into a lioness in the split of a second, in the split of an atom.

How do we become friends with Passion? Passion takes everything we do to another level, our emotions, our ability to give and receive love. Passion led to destruction but also to the creation of Life.


When we live with Passion, we feel on another level. We experience Life with vibrant abandon.

We are less concerned about trivial things and see and expect wonderful things in our way.


When we live with Passion, we feel fulfilled, because in the process of finding out our Passion, we learn about who we are and who we want to be. We learn about our gifts and what makes us innately happy.

You learn what you were created for.

Let’s take you back to childhood. You loved life. You thought everyone loved you, at one point. By now, you’ve probably forgotten what that feels like.


I am constantly reminded by my daughter, who lives passionately and loves people with sweet freedom, that passion lives within our reach of exploration. She expects outcomes that favor her. She believes that everyone likes her and wants to play with her. She crashes other people’s picnics as if she belongs and because she is confident, in seconds, she is eating right along with the whole lot of them. She sits on benches, next to strangers, walks up to tables in restaurants and climbs up empty seats to enjoy the company of the fresh faces. She’s undeterred. She believes the best.


Maya rejoicing in her day.

Yes, she is a child and you are no longer one.

You know that not everyone likes you, appreciates you and maybe not always things will go your way.
But you, I hope, are mature enough and strong enough to take that dose of reality and be able to surpass all those feelings that arise; insecurity, negativity, failure, lack of something, etc., and power that energy into something else-peace, forgiveness, love, appreciation…

Something happens in that process. You begin to value yourself. Valuing yourself and recognizing that you have something to offer is the first step on this Passionate Living exploration journey. You begin to blossom, become fragrant and energetic and curious about what you have stored up inside of you. Rest assured, there is a lot of beautiful material to work with within each one of us. So, let’s begin this process! Come with me on this journey.

In the meantime, just enjoy this day. Smell your child’s hair. Kiss your spouse. Walk your dog. Simple moments can be full of passion, too. They restore us and spur us towards fresh thinking!
Passionate thinking! Be happy and blessed, my friends!

My precious flower

Happily ‘Seconds’

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Tonight I had the opportunity to listen to two amazing women explain the mission behind their small business and the motivation behind the products they create. While explaining the method involved in crafting natural apple cider vinegar, a health elixir we would all do well to incorporate into our diets, one of the women remarked that they use the ‘seconds.’

In produce, the ‘seconds’ are fruits or veggies that aren’t pristine. They may be bruised, wrinkled, or mottled. Most consumers don’t want them for their external imperfections, so they’re sold at a reduced price.

Oh, how I can relate to those apples! Juggling parenting, school, and work means that my outward appearance isn’t often a priority. By extension, my minivan leaks cereal bowls from breakfasts-on-the run, and my house bears witness to the three rambunctious girls who live here. Lifestyle blogger I ain’t.

But that’s okay. I take time for myself in other ways, and I happily embrace the occasional opportunity to dress up a bit. This season in life will soon fade into the next, and eventually I’ll have time to perfect my winged liner- or not.

It takes all kinds of apples to make vinegar- and from what I tasted tonight, the seconds make some of the best.

 

~ Emily Nolan
wife. mother of three. health, fitness and lifting guru.

Focus Driven

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This is the year for renewal of passion and drive.

There is a new beginning in the air that is quite contagious in my circles.  

A sense of ‘anything is possible’ is permeating our conversations and expectations. The one seed of advice that I must share today is -one must be focus driven to capitalize on the opportunities presented.
 

I’ve seen very intelligent people flounder and not realize their goals and dreams because they’ve wasted time on unnecessary things.

It’s not about being busy, it’s about saying no to things or ideas that don’t serve you in your season and focusing on what will get you “there”. I’ve had enough of doing things I am good at. I want to do things I am great at. Let someone else do the things I am good at.

 
The question arises; what am I great at?

What is the legacy I want to leave for my child? What will I do that will make her proud of me?
What can I do that will give her a step up in her own quest, in her own journey?


We all had dreams when we were children. I remember growing up, thinking that I could do anything, be anything… that the world was my oyster. Sometime after college my feelings were dampened by rains of life and other people’s stories of dreams not coming through, that life is unfair.
But deep within me that dream of greatness remains. I didn’t grow up in a rich home, nor a very happy home, either. Women were second class citizens. All Eve’s fault. Although the Bible states that through Adam sin entered the world. So yeah, judge that, peeps. It was Adam’s fault.

According to my upbringing, I wasn’t meant for greatness, but those feelings just wouldn’t die.
Women weren’t supposed to speak out, but I just couldn’t help it.

Something inside me was telling me otherwise. That spark of God kept reminding me, pleading with me to keep believing.
It no longer pleads with me. It demands that I follow my dreams, run after my passions. Be the best I can be…because I am valuable.

I know, I’ve digressed, went off my focus in this post, but bear with me.
Every word has a place in my story.

Stick with me. What brings you joy? What are your passions? What are your dreams? Those are not just idle thoughts. Enough being “practical”. I’ve heard too much practical counsel. Too much “real talk”. Life is too short. If your dreams don’t scare you, you aren’t dreaming big enough. I always used to say, “Reach for the sun, and you will at least get a few stars”.

I love writing. I may not be the best at it, but my fear of criticism will not stop me. At the end of each piece I derive an immense amount of satisfaction. I’ve set my sights even higher. I want to finish a book. And darn it!, I WILL finish writing that book no matter what comes. I’ve had enough sitting on the sidelines, I am now a full fledged participant in this race.

There are a few more dreams I am working on this year. They scare me. But I will run into the face of fear.

I’ve had to say no to some commitments that were for a good cause but they weren’t developing the greatness in me. I’ve had to make hard decisions that took me away from hanging out with my friends. I’ve had to stay strong and invest in myself. This is the year for culmination of my expectations for myself. This is the year for sticking to a schedule and prioritizing what is the most important for me. This is the year for self-discovery and self-reflection.

This is the year to focus on me.
How can I best serve my purpose and the people around me? What is the big picture?

Make a list of what you want for yourself this year. What is it that you envision?
Break it down into steps and actions that will take you there.
Most importantly!!!!-Keep it simple. One bite at a time. Don’t bite off more than you can chew, you will spit it out eventually.

I want my child to be an achiever of dreams.
How? Through discipline and dedication I will show her how to get “there”.
And hey, don’t forget to pencil in the time for the most important time, time of fun with your family.
It is having fun together that makes the heart grow fonder.

I Just Want To Be Brave

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I just want to be brave.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. To me it means to be free to be me.
The bravest thing in this world is to be truly yourself and show that uniqueness to the world.
To not fit in, but stand out. To sing loud. To dance when no one is dancing. To worship God when no one is worshipping. To go out on a limb and look like a fool, but just not caring, because I know and place value on allowing me to be me.
In church, I want to sing louder and not be embarrassed if they think I’m showing off. I just want to praise Him and if the Spirit moves me, hey, I just want to be free to feel it. To truly feel it.
I get embarrassed about raising my arms when no one else is. It is especially hard when the right song comes up and I have to hold back due to my withholding of myself.
 
This is what you are doing. You are withholding.
You are withholding from yourself. From your family. From the world.
 
I want to speak up and share my opinion and then not change it with slight alterations according to the audience and how brave I feel that day.


Walk your own path.

I don’t want to be shaken. I know what I say means something to me and it may mean something to you, but even if it doesn’t, I want to respect myself by saying my truth, honorably, kindly and with elegant maturity.

I was that girl that decided to twirl and spin in the forest one day, to just be free…
And when I opened my eyes… I was surprised to see a couple of journeying girls that were that deep in the forest with me.
I tried not to be embarrassed. I thought no one was watching.
 
When you are not free, you create a lack … there is something missing in this Universe.

 
And, that’s you.

 
No one can fill your shoes. Neither can you fill their shoes.
They are uniquely yours and no one can do it better than you.
The society wasn’t brave. It was easier to control a group of the same. It didn’t know how to handle the unique expressions of God. So they minimized God. Made Him small. Un-creative.
 
We need to un-do this misrepresentation. God is so huge and so diverse and so splendid.
As His masterpiece, can He not express Himself through you?
He gave you skills and abilities that are unique to you. EVERYONE is equipped. EVERYONE has something of value.
 
When you decide to hide yourself, you decide to hide a spark of God within you.
 
Don’t do that.
 



Let yourself be amazed again.

 

 

I want to be just like a kid again. To live with the truth and integrity and abandon to being myself. To believe and be curious. 
 
I want to laugh and smile with joy and be free to be happy. Even if that means just letting myself spin and twirl like I used to as a kid. Letting my hands fly free… feeling the air move around me.
Liberation.
Creation.
Spontaneity.
What a lovely recipe for something New. Something New that feels just right for YOU.
People, follow your destiny. They may not believe in you, believe in yourself. Believe in the One that thought you were worth creating.



Let your imagination run free!

 
Write, dance, create, laugh. You don’t have to do anything well, just do it if you like it. You never know, in that freedom of expression you may find something you are so passionate about, so rightfully yours, that it could move you and bring you to a place where your dreams are coming true.