Posts Tagged ‘experience of birth’

Birth – It’s Happening – 7

Yoga and Childbirth – Chapter 7

Am I Pregnant?

With the modern methods of determining pregnancy, such as the urine test, nobody need be in doubt for long, even during the first few days. But if you do not wish to go to this bother, the pregnancy usually announces itself fairly quickly in clinical ways.

The absence of menstruation is often the first sign one has, although by itself this is by no means proof, as many women miss periods for many other reasons. Also, despite being pregnant, a small or short period may occur.

Some women experience morning sickness almost from the first day of conception, which again is a sign, but not a proof. Of course, from the doctor’s point of view, the hearing of the baby’s heartbeat may alone constitute proof.

Another of the early signs in a healthy woman is breast change. Some women experience this at every menstruation, but it passes. During pregnancy these breast changes remain. The breast becomes fuller in appearance, and becomes tender, especially the nipples. The colour of the skin around the nipple changes, becomes darker, and this area enlarges into a slightly bubbly appearance. After a few months a liquid may be taken from the nipples, called colostrum.

Other changes may be experienced as need for more sleep; inability to eat large meals; strange desires for particular foods; frequency of urination; sudden increase in weight.

Doctor’s Help in Pregnancy

It is best to place yourself in the care of your doctor fairly soon. He or she will examine you, possibly by asking questions as to when your last period was, and so on. Also the examination may include feeling your abdomen with his or her hand. This is to see if any enlargement of the uterus has taken place. The doctor may also examine the vagina for signs of pregnancy, such as a greater supply of blood to the area. No doubt you will be asked for a urine specimen.

Length of Pregnancy

Add seven days to the first day of your last normal menstruation. Then deduct three months, and this will give you the approximate date of a full term pregnancy. Or else add 280 days to the date of conception. Again, this is an approximate date. To save your working it out, 280 days is forty weeks. The average time of conception is about fourteen days after the last normal period. There is little chance of your giving birth on the exact day, as in a survey only four out of a hundred women gave birth on the estimated day.

Quickening

The baby first moves approximately half way through the pregnancy. That is about the twentieth week or just after. This can therefore act as a rough check on your estimated time of conception.

‘In Utero’

In recent years a great deal more has been revealed about what the baby does in the womb. Although it is not generally accepted, as given later, there is a fair amount of evidence to show that the baby is very much aware in the womb. The baby does not breathe, gaining its oxygen from the mother’s blood but it does move and rest. If you are observant you will notice that it goes through cycles of activity. Sometimes, much to the amused consternation of ‘mum’, baby decides to be active just as ‘mum’ is trying to go to sleep! These movements are very much like those we can see in a new-born baby – a thrusting of arms and legs.

Babies are also now known to often suck their thumbs or fingers while still unborn. Also, occasionally, to cry, but only when air has in some way entered the uterus.

The Big Day

If you are going into hospital or a nursing home, have your suitcase packed a couple of weeks in advance. If you plan to follow the advice in this book carefully, also have a little purse in which you can place some vitamin C, E and calcium tablets. Take these with you and keep them by you. You will be allowed to have a book and your purse by you until the baby actually arrives.

First Signs of Birth

For many women the first sign that birth is about to begin is the breaking of the membranes. Sometimes this happens while asleep in bed, and the resulting puddle of water will undoubtedly wake you. You will have had contractions of the uterus for some weeks. Similar contractions will again appear just prior to, or soon after the water ‘breaks’, although a few women do not experience the breaking of the membrane.

As soon as the contractions appear however, right from the start relax the rest of the body and breathe in stage one as described. Erna Wright points out that if you do not begin the relaxation and breathing right from the beginning the contractions can easily become painful. This is because the contractions are gradually ‘opening up’ the uterus, and unless the tensions in this area are relaxed, blocking can cause problems from the start.

You may hear the doctor or nurse talking about various stages of labour; to help you understand what they are referring to they are as follows: First Stage – The thinning of the ‘neck of the uterus’ or cervix is a pre-labour stage. The first stage of labour is when the baby’s head begins to open up the cervix. This ‘opening up’ of the cervix is called ‘dilating’. The nurse can gradually see more and more of the baby’s head as the cervix dilates. She, or the doctor, measures this dilation with finger widths. So she may say ‘She’s two fingers dilated.’ That means that the cervix, which opens rather in the shape of a cat’s eye, is two fingers wide. Eventually there is no cervix, only baby’s head showing. Then begins the second stage of labour, which is when the uterus pushes the baby along the birth channel, helped now, but not before, by your abdominal muscles. The third stage is after the actual exit of the baby’s head and body, and is the removal of the placenta.

What to Do Next when the Birth Starts

After this quick preview, let us return to the first contractions. As each one occurs, stand still, relax, while breathing in the first stage. From now on your breathing and relaxation is the real thing, not practice. If you feel you must breathe faster to get more air, then do so, as you are not supplying enough. If you breathe out fully each time, this will ensure fuller exchange of air. A feeling of dizziness means you are over-oxygenating. Slow up and do not breathe quite so deeply. On the other hand trembling is due to a build-up of carbon dioxide in the blood which is caused by too shallow quick breathing. Take deeper breaths.

If the contractions start during the night, get up if you must, and have a drink of warm milk and honey. But it is better to simply go back to sleep. During this pre-labour phase, contractions may come far apart, or close together, but they are only short in length – ten to twenty seconds. Erna Wright says that the first stage of labour is characterised not so much by frequent contractions as by their length of about forty-five to fifty-five seconds. You must enquire beforehand at which stage your hospital or district nurse wishes to be informed.

Meanwhile, do not tire yourself out during this phase, because you will need all your energy for later on. If it is daytime and you are not requested to enter hospital, then get on with any simple tasks at hand, stopping at each contraction, breathing in level one, and relaxing. From the beginning of the contractions take a 100 mlg of vitamin C every half hour. Carry this on right to the last stage of labour. Also take 1000 i.u. of vitamin E, 4 calcium or 6 kelp tablets and one halibut liver oil capsule at the start of the contractions. Have these all sorted out beforehand so that it is easy. As already said, the C should be continued throughout, one every half hour. The calcium should be taken two every hour. Or if you can’t manage that, take 1000 mlg of C at the start and forget about it. The same applies to the calcium.

As the contractions lengthen you will find the level one breathing inadequate. Therefore, shift up into levels two and three as necessary. By the time you reach the 55-second contractions, you should be using the three levels at each contraction. As it begins, say mentally ‘contraction beginning’, and use level one breathing for 3 breaths, 3 in level 2 the height of the contraction in level 3, and then come down to 3 breaths in two, 3 in one, and say mentally ‘contraction finished’.

When the contractions last from one to one-and-a-half minutes, as it begins say mentally, ‘contraction beginning’, then breathe once in level one, 5 times in level two, the peak of the contraction in level three and then down into level two for 5 breaths and 3 in level one. Then say mentally ‘contraction finished’. In between contractions, fully relax, repeating mentally ‘surrender to Life.’

The breathing method can be changed to a very fast pant where more air is needed. You can practise this during the last two months of pregnancy with the aid of your husband. With a watch he can time your contractions of arms and legs, and you can practise the breathing routine to get the knack of timing. This will make it all far easier on the day.

I must stress however, that although the above method of breathing at a particular level in each phase of contraction sounds complicated, it very soon becomes a habit if practised often. Quite frankly, you do not have to breathe exactly the number of breaths at each level, as long as you do change as the contraction develops.

What Can I expect in the Birth Process?

When your ‘waters’ do break take a note of the time so that you can inform the nurse or hospital. Doctors who plan to give their patients a general anaesthetic advise women not to eat before being admitted to hospital. As you are having a natural birth this rule does not apply. The rule is made so that the patient does not vomit stomach contents under anaesthesia and then have the food enter the lungs. Therefore have a small meal to give you sufficient fuel to burn during the activity ahead. As you will not be able to eat for some time, you will need food that will be easy to digest yet will supply a steady flow of fuel. The breakfast already mentioned, which keeps the blood sugar level high for many hours, is excellent for this purpose. That is, a meal consisting mostly of protein, but with carbohydrates, sugars and some fat also. A poached egg on toast, with plenty of butter, followed by a milk drink with a couple of spoonfuls of powdered milk added, plus honey,- will be excellent. Or any meal of a similar composition.

Meanwhile, at every contraction except those occurring while you sleep, use the relaxation and breathing technique. Try to get as much sleep as possible before the first stage of labour begins as after this you will have to remain awake and ‘working’ almost continuously until the end of the labour. To quote Erna Wright, ‘Handling contractions during this period is almost like a holy ritual. You handle each contraction with as much single minded concentration and care as you can; in the correct manner, with the correct dissociation, with the correct breathing. Never, never answer questions during a contraction.’ (The New Childbirth). Erna Wright also suggests buying a little, real sponge to dip in a saucer of water by the bedside to wipe the face between contractions and to suck for water and for comfort. Another helpful tip she gives is to empty the bladder every hour during labour. This is because during labour the usual sensation of a full bladder may not be noticeable. Thus one may reach a point where pain occurs with every contraction due to a full bladder.

Going Great Guns

As stage one of labour changes into stage two after the thinning of the cervix, quite a number of women experience what is called the transition stage. This is experienced as a great tiredness, or feeling of being desperately fed up with the whole process. You may become extremely irritable and bad tempered, but if you can hold on to your discipline for a while, you will pass through this phase. At this time the urge comes to aid the uterus by pushing, using your abdominal muscles, but resist this temptation completely unless the nurse says it is time to push. To help you through this phase if it becomes pronounced enough to disturb you, hold rigidly to your breathing and relaxation discipline, even though these may seem to go haywire for a while keep on with Them. Also, every time you relax between contractions say mentally, ‘surrender to Life’, and completely relax all muscles not in use. As you say this mentally, feel as if you were handing your whole being over, as practised during relaxation to the light.

Bring On the Reinforcements

You and your uterus are now working full out, but due to your breathing and relaxation you are handling your contractions and they have not become painful. During contractions some women have a cramp-like sensation in the uterus. With your vitamin E and calcium already under your belt, your muscles should perform like trained circus athletes, but just in case, you can rid yourself of this problem. This is done by you, or your husband if he is there, gently and delicately massaging the area in a circular direction. There should be hardly any pressure attached to this, as it is the lightness of touch that soothes the underlying muscles.

Another helpful aid as you enter the second stage of labour is to ‘take aim’. In other words, when you actually begin to help the uterus by pushing, it is a great aid to find a spot at the foot of the bed, down beyond the feet, and imagine you are pushing the baby towards it.

Meanwhile, you are still some way from stage three, so don’t forget your vitamin C every half-hour, and calcium every hour. If you buy something like Super Rose Hip, or children’s flavoured vitamin C tablets, you can suck them like sweets instead of attempting to swallow them.

Erna Wright is so full of practical suggestions it is difficult to avoid quoting her. If it is necessary for the doctor or nurse to examine you internally, or snip the membranes with scissors if they have not been broken, and during the removal of the placenta, Erna suggests that you practise the same rules as for contractions, i.e., go into level two breathing and relax the genitals.

The Birth

Once the cervix has thinned and the baby’s head emerges from the vagina, having been pushed along the birth channel, it is usually only a matter of moments before the rest of the baby follows, and you have that wonderful first glimpse of your child.

But before all this occurs, you will be working away at the longest of the contractions, which also require you to ‘push’ as well. This ‘pushing’ is the same sort of abdominal tension as that made during going to the toilet. You will have already practised this as advised elsewhere in the book. Make sure, as always, that the genital area is relaxed. As it is difficult to push’ and breathe at the same time, a slightly different routine is required. In stage two of delivery you will find that as the contraction starts your abdominal muscles will also contract, this contraction is heightened by your own conscious effort. Therefore, as you feel the contractions beginning, say mentally, ‘contraction starting’, and take three breaths in level two. Then as you breathe in for the fourth time hold your breath in while you push. Hold this for six to ten seconds, depending on your ability, and then blow the air out and repeat. While in the ‘pushing’ stage, it is best to have plenty of pillows behind you, knees drawn up, back slightly rounded, in imitation of the squat position. As you hold your breath in, push the chin down hard on the chest to block any escape of air, and prevent you arching your head back. As you breathe out, say mentally ‘surrender to Life’. Then breathe in again and hold it as above. Repeat this cycle of breathing in, holding it, pushing, blowing out and surrendering, two or three times, depending on length of contractions. As the contraction begins to wane, no longer hold the breath, but breathe in level three until you get your breath back; drop into level two for a few breaths, and then to level one. Don’t forget to relax back gently from the squat position after the contraction so that the baby’s head does not slip back from its position in the birth channel.

As the head of the baby emerges and the rest of the body is following, no more ‘pushing’ is necessary. Now is the time to drop back into the position of sexual surrender, with your own head dropped back in relaxation, hips and genitals open to ‘giving’, and mouth open panting as in orgasm.

After the actual birth, the umbilical cord is clipped or tied, and then severed. The placenta is usually delivered by one more contraction. Erna Wright suggests, when this is all over, sucking a few glucose sweets or taking some honey to replace the blood sugar burnt up during the labour. If you have already had a previous child you will later experience small contractions as the uterus returns to its proper size. Handle these in the same way as you did the birth contractions and they will soon pass away. The same applies to the contractions occurring during breast feeding.

Now you should be home and dry. Cuddle baby, forget everything, and sleep.

Go to Chapter List –Go to Chapter 7

 

Lumpkin – The Baby Who Became Tony

I existed long before my conception and birth.  What was new was this particular body conceived by a young country girl, fathered by the son of an Italian immigrant to England, and born in Amersham just before the Second World War.  It was a completely new configuration.

There are memories of being in the womb, feeling like the yolk of an egg.  My genitals were the pulsing centre of that yolk, and they pulsed with gentle pleasure in time with my tiny heart.  There was no sense yet of being a person, but there was an integrity that gave a feeling of being something different to other things in my awareness.  And there was sense of love.  It came to me in waves as the beating of my small heart roused pleasure in the centre of me, pleasure raised high as my mother’s heart and mine beat together while the two rhythms crossed.

Birth is seldom ever completely commonplace to its witnesses, and certainly not to the baby being born.  Sometimes we have the strangely naïve attitude that this is a new being who has entered the world.  But what is there new in nature?  Can we say, if we plant an acorn, that the oak tree growing is new?  Well, yes.  The body and leaves of the tree will be unique.  But millions of years in the lives of other trees are involved in the growth of this particular oak.  It cannot, it hasn’t, simply emerged from itself, for each of us have a history of our beginnings started from the single cells from which all started. What an incredible journey we have all been on!!!

Whatever way we explain birth, the baby carries with it the influences of an immense number of men and women who lived, struggled, loved, in the past.

I have memories of my birth.  Not as pictures in my mind, like old photographs.  I remember through the pain in my guts, and through my feeling response to some situations.  I remember because the experience of that birth sometimes wells up like a great tide overwhelming my normal, everyday, self.

My tiny body was born two months early, apparently dead.  I was told the doctor threw my body to one side, saying, “Forget the baby.  We need to look after the mother.” The doctor’s words were not flung out casually. I was born in the thirties, prior to intensive care units for premature babies – prior to antibiotics. Each of us is a witness to our times. We all exist within a huge web of influences and understandings, and if I try to grasp the view from which the doctor’s words arose, there is sense in what he implied. If we have children and say to one of them as he or she goes out the door, “Be careful”, we don’t need to mention all the things in today’s world that one needs to be careful of. If the child is old enough to manage the streets alone, they can already fill in most of the details about dangers they should avoid, such as drug pushers, muggers, child molesters, and other violent children. So the doctor was saying to my mother, “Within this present social and medical situation your baby has little chance of survival. If it does survive it will be weak. Let this one die and have another one.”

It wasn’t an auspicious beginning, but my grandmother carried off the limp body and managed to provoke breathing. I have a sense — I cannot call it a clear memory — that in reviving me, my grandmother baptised me in case I died. She blessed me with her love, and marked a cross on my forehead in oil and water. That mark has remained in my being indelibly, having been given with true love. It has opened connections to me with mysteries I might otherwise not have known.

It wasn’t just my body that was impressed with the experience of birth.  There are levels of awareness in us right from conception, along with the learning of responses to what is confronted.  Not only does the unborn body mature in readiness for birth, so does the awareness, the receptive sentience.

In my 40s, when I traced back troublesome reactions to everyday life events, I discovered memories of the period just after birth.  I found the experience of being a tiny vulnerable creature, and as that creature I was very definitely reacting to a feeling of awful exposure, even though I didn’t know myself as Tony.

Remember that in the womb my small being did not need to breathe.  Food did not have to be taken in and digested.  There was a stable temperature, so no exposure to temperature shifts.  My nervous system was geared to survive, and in some way respond to stimuli. There was no assault of powerful and unknown sounds in the womb – sounds such as birdsong, dogs barking, house sounds.  Also, in the womb one is buffered against bacterial and viral attack.

A baby is aware of all these in its own way.  It has a functioning brain and nervous system that is already learning — not in words, but certainly feeling responses.

What I recall from that early period after birth — recall and put into words by my adult self — is of being afraid I could not survive in this new environment. At the time of my birth there were no intensive care units to plug my tiny body into a drip feed or oxygen tent, or an incubator to keep me warm. Neither were there antibiotics to help fight the deadly diseases so many infants and children of the time were laid low by. At that time premature babies were very likely to die.

So I couldn’t breathe easily.  I couldn’t digest easily, and I was deeply anxious about the strange sounds around me.  A tremendous feeling response took place in my tiny self.  As an adult we would call this a decision.  But in my infant self it had nothing to do with thinking or analysing.  It was a total feeling and fear response.  It was a rejection of life.  A turning away from scrambling, struggling, for survival.  I didn’t want to be in the world.  I wanted to remain in the egg!

The effect this had on my adult behaviour was that I never developed the ambition to “get somewhere in life.”  Just existing felt like an enormous struggle, an exhausting struggle.  I turned away from opportunities because they needed involvement and participation.  I didn’t want to be involved, and often had to crash out of social activities, as I did not have the coping mechanisms to engage in ordinary social events.

There was also, in my budding awareness, a sense of death.  Even though my body was ill prepared for life outside the womb, it still functioned strongly enough to stand between me and death.  But death felt very close.  I needed to be back in the womb, kept warm, protected and given a chance to grow undisturbed.  Second-best would have been to be held skin to skin against my mother’s body and breast, a sort of constant drip-feed in a warm environment.  Unfortunately that did not happen.  She was a working mother dashing back from work to breast feed me.

I gather from these memories, and the feelings accompanying them, that my mother, being young and inexperienced — I was her first and only child — was frightened by my fragility.  All her sisters had produced heavy full-term babies.  So she may even have felt lacking in some way.  And I felt something of this anxiety.  My own struggle, and feelings that death was sniffing around me like a waiting hyena, were not held at bay by my mother’s anxiety.  As the little budding me existed beyond any sense of time there was no knowledge that things could change, only a feeling of impending doom.

Then a truly life changing event occurred.  I have no awareness at all of its place in the sequence of things.  But picture if you can this vulnerable and helpless creature, this spark of life and awareness not ready to deal with independent life, retreating from it, yet not wanting to die.  And my spark of awareness, my forming sense of myself, is afraid, and feels alone in this fear, alone in the dark, with death as a predator sniffing around. Then suddenly I am picked up and held in arms that are strong; held by a being of love who is not afraid of death, and communicates love and courage to me.  Communicates so profoundly that I feel I am in the arms of a higher being, a being who has lifted me out of darkness and fear, and has driven away skulking death itself.  So I cry out to this being with the only passionate sound I can make, the panting, weeping of an infant.  But if there had been the gift of words I would have been looking into the eyes of this being, crying out, “I love you!  I love you!  I am bonding with you!  I am connecting with you forever!”

When I remembered this, when I re-experienced the moment as an adult, I too bawled like a baby, and felt the exquisite love and strength, the relief from darkness, of those moments.  In fact I still weep as I write these words, for that experience was so profound. 

That was my second, and most deeply felt experience of love.  It was also the first, and perhaps most fundamental, experience of religious awe.  It stands as some sort of nucleus in the development of myself as an adult personality.  It is a touchstone against which is tested any meeting I have with love. Also, when I first re-experienced this event it was accompanied by a revelation, a certainty, that this was the resurrection.

The wonderfully loving higher being who had the power to lift me beyond the reach of death, was of course my grandmother.  She was the mother of 13, some of whom had not survived.  My mother was the youngest, born on the eve of the Great War.  My grandmother did not have long to live herself, but I think had developed that serenity, not of the mind, for I doubt she was a thinking person, but of the heart, that comes with deep acceptance.  I also have a feeling out of these experiences, that she was the heir to the wisdom gathered by a long line of women who were her ancestors.  I don’t see this wisdom passed on verbally, because I doubt it was ever put into words.  It was passed from eyes to eyes, from heart to heart.  It was passed in the passionate responses to hard times and loss and love.  And I feel my grandmother baptised me in the essence of it, and I am blessed for all time.

         My Grandmother

I have wondered a great deal about what was meant by the resurrection.  I know it has to do with love.  I feel people apply the term to Christ because the Christ being represents, or is a symbol of, a form of love we sense in ourselves occasionally, and sometimes see in other people.  It is the type of love that in its weakest form is seen in the love of parents for their children.  It shows itself as the giving that enables a mother to almost totally devote herself to the needs of the helpless and completely demanding life of her baby.  It is the ability some fathers have to toil year after year to feed and provide for their children.

But that is its weakest form.  That love is often partly instinctive, built into us if we are healthy.  Its most profound form is seen in those who reach beyond their love for their children and family, and extend it in depth, not just in duty or to be seen to do good, to people who are not their kin, and from whom no financial, sexual or social advantage is expected.

I sense the resurrection as a form of love that transcends the boundaries of kin, and is not afraid of death or risking of one’s own life for the need of another.  In essence, this is the story Christianity tells.  Although I am personally uncertain about the existence of an historical Jesus, I can see that as humans, we collectively sense there is a profound wonder in such self-sacrificing love.  In sensing this we have created a deeply perceptive mythology around it.  The mythology tells us that even if we can allow a little of such love into our life, it will give us entrance into becoming aware of an essence — the spirit — that pervades all existence, and to the survival of bodily death.

To some extent I have to acknowledge that by getting my newborn body to start breathing, my grandmother did raise me from the dead.  So my unconscious mind has powerful material around which to create its own personal mythology.  But the love I experienced I sense as a force beyond that, and has to be acknowledged too.

In our collective myth of Christ we have created, or witnessed, a being who extends love to all living things, and offers a life beyond death in its existence – the mystical body of Christ.  Just as my grandmother lifted me from darkness and death, so Christ is said to lift humankind.

My grandmother took over my care soon after I was born.  My mother told me that I slept in the same bed as she did, but one morning she woke and couldn’t find me.  She panicked, and then discovered I had slipped out the side of the bed, and was as cold as stone.  From that point on my grandmother took charge, which probably did nothing for my mother’s confidence.

I have not recovered memories of this period, but from looking at photographs, I grew from a tiny shrunken little creature into a happy and sometimes radiant looking child with blond hair.  Things soon changed though.  My grandmother died of a stroke before I was two.  So suddenly the great love in my life was gone.

 

This was such a major event in my life that it left massive residues in strata of my psyche.  The petrified remains of that event were only uncovered slowly, plunging again and again into the depths to find the heartbreaking remains of that lost love.

From my teens, through to the time of uncovering these buried feelings connected with my grandmother, I had an almost compulsive religious drive.  This was never something leading me to attend church or listen to sermons, or study the Bible.  It was a direct need to find God as a personal experience.  I wanted to communicate, to meet, and to have a direct confrontation.

Understanding of this drive dawned slowly as I developed the skills of mental archaeology, and learned to carefully brush away the debris of years.  My first discovery in this old burial mound was anger.  I was angry with God – violently angry.  Only slowly were the roots of that anger uncovered.

My grandmother died after a second stroke.  As a young child I had no foreknowledge of this, so it was a terrible shock suddenly to no longer be able to find her. Literally she was no longer there.  I didn’t even see her dead body, and I feel that was a great mistake on the part of my family.  Seeing her corpse would have given me a tangible experience of her death.  Lacking that experience she had simply disappeared mysteriously.  I was left to seek an answer to this, and when I asked where she had gone was told that my grandmother had gone back to God.

When that one sentence was lifted out of the darkness of years, along with the emotions buried with it, the anger and the compulsive religious search were understood.  I was angry with God for taking away the person I loved.  I was searching for God because, according to what I had been told, in finding God I would find my grandmother.

It’s crazy how the mind and emotions work, but logical too.  As a child I didn’t have the equipment to question the information I had been given.  So it was buried intact, still channelling the energy of my drives and emotions until I managed to uncover it and re-evaluate it against a much wider database of experience and information.

Isn’t love a strange and terrible thing to keep a child held to its determined search through the long years into adulthood?  Some ghost, some spirit of that small boy that I was, remained waiting in a corner of myself.  Waiting and hoping for the return of his beloved grandmother.  Waiting and bearing the weight of that waiting each day, gradually becoming walled up in a dungeon of debris dropped by the passing years.

The vulnerable and beautiful spirit of that child, buried in the shadows of myself, was the hidden artist behind much of the beauty and tragedy in the love story of my life. It became known to me in a dream as Lumpkin.

That’s how I waited out the years with my mother.  Because I had been so close to my grandmother, in some ways my mother was a stranger.  Living with her left the love child in me constantly waiting to go home.  There was a feeling in me that if I could wait through this day, maybe today, or the next day, I could go home.  If not today, maybe tomorrow I could be with my grandmother!

That feeling of desperate waiting, of feeling I was never “at home”, of constantly wondering where home was, lasted most of my life.  A dream I experienced in Italy in 2000 shows the depth and dilemma of this.  In the dream I was driving home along a country road.  Ahead of me the road forked and I took the right-hand fork.  I drove a little further and arrived home.  It was a lovely house in its own grounds.  My wife and children were happy to see me and came to greet me warmly.  But something was wrong.  I had no sense that these people were my family.  This was not my home, and I hurried away, back to the fork in the road.  There I took the left fork.  Again I arrived home – another lovely house, another wife and children who warmly greeted me as husband and father.  But there was still no feeling in me that I was home.  Again I must go to look for where I belonged.

That dream sums up the feelings that haunted me most of my life, and the split shown by the forked road.  As with the religious drive, the feeling arose because of my desire to be once more with my grandmother.  After all, it was a desire etched into me over many years. Strangely enough, at the time this memory really surfaced, I was living with a friend, being homeless at the time. On the very day it came to light my friend told me I would have to find somewhere else to live. It was so strange it was almost comical.

Therefore, before ever I had any real sense of time or identity, those early experiences set patterns in me that have influenced the rest of my life.  My prematurity, with its consequences of unreadiness for an outgoing life that would grasp the world and its opportunities, left a yearning, and I think an open door, to enter into the mysterious in the worlds of the mind and spirit.  I wasn’t looking outward to the world. All my energy was flowing backwards into the life of the womb and its dark mystery. And there were negative aspects to that, such as lack of worldly ambition and a failure to understand the needs and functions of placing oneself well in the world to gain financial and social benefits.

What I have gained though, is an extraordinarily rich inner life.  I suppose it was also a major factor in my becoming well-known in connection with dreams.  Also, for never having any sense that I ought to absorb the subjects offered through schooling, as given by the establishment.  But I believe there are other factors not mentioned, that played a big part in that.

The other main pattern put in place by my infant years, was the foundations upon which would be built a terror of losing the one I loved and the compulsion to be loved as desperately and urgently as I myself loved.  In this way the scene was set for the drama of my destiny to unfold.

Last Thoughts About Lumpkin

I end by thinking about Lumpkin and realise what a wonderful part of me he is. I have an image of him as the Lion headed dwarf. The tiny malformed being who is yet enormous, with strength, wisdom, and power. He has that in his weakness. And in his love and compassion, he has more strength than soldiers. I have a sense that my female has taken Lumpkin deeply into herself. I have a feeling she is going to carry Lumpkin deep in her being, perhaps into another lifetime. And if that is so, I want her to recognise that Lumpkin has the seeds of enormous strength, great wisdom and love. I know that is why my lover has taken Lumpkin into herself.

Lumpkin is now also flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood.

Here is the Lumpkin dream.

“I believe it was a man, rather shadowy, who gave me a leather pull string purse or pouch. In the pouch was powder that I poured onto my rather stained trousers. Strangely, they looked like the one’s I wear now. Immediately the powder started working like yeast, or at least, I thought of it as yeast. It was cleansing and purifying my trousers in a spreading action. I knew that this yeast, or pollen, had also penetrated my body, and was gradually working through my being, purifying and healing.

I looked at the opening of the pouch, and it was in the shape of a mouth and a vagina. The powder that came out was like millions of living motes, or particles, life giving and alive. I thought at first that using the powder would empty the pouch, but I saw that in fact the living counts replenished itself. They were like sperm or pollen, they regenerated.

Then suddenly the scene shifted and it was later in the day. I was the only person at an eating-place. I heard sounds of people coming, and wasn’t sure if they were friendly or not. So, I acted as if I were working at the place by clearing one of the tables. There didn’t seem to be any proprietors or staff. Then, into the room, or space, because I believe it was outdoors, walked my friend Sheila, with a man who was shadowy, ill-defined, like the man who gave me the pouch. Sheila was now like a warrior figure, a man/woman, the genders blended. I understood, or could see, that Sheila had gone through an incredible journey or adventure. This was like one of the mythological odysseys that had transformed her in meeting its dangers and trials. She was now a very powerful figure. In her hands Sheila carried a tiny being. She held it out to me and said, “Lumpkin has been asking for you.” (Some days before the dream of the pouch and Lumpkin I experience a powerful uprising of feeling and joy. In listening to the feeling I received the distinct message that in four days I would receive a gift. I wondered what this gift might be, and understood that it was something that had always existed, but I had now grown, or opened, to the point where the gift could be received.)

Strangely, since that time, my dreams have given me four gifts – the two books, the pouch, and Lumpkin. None of them are easy gifts, and I am still riding the waves that lift me and thrown me down in my relationship with love and loneliness.

I understood that Lumpkin, this little being, had missed me and wanted to be with me. I held out my arms and took this creature, who was about 10 inches high, with spindly legs and arms. From his appearance he was incapable of individual locomotion. Lumpkin wasn’t a baby, nor an animal, but he was intelligent and could speak. He came to me and I held him, with the feeling we have known each other in the past.                                               Art by Carlos Caban

 

In fact what he brings me it is the possibility of the compassion for the helpless and injured. He has, because of his own weakness, a sense of humility that allows a link with other people’s vulnerable and perhaps a hidden, nature.”