Natal Hypnotherapy rocks!

RCM accreditation logo (2)This weekend I headed out to Haslemere, Surrey to teach some of the latest batch of Natal Hypnotherapy™ practitioner trainees about birth physiology.  Their actual hypnotherapy training programme started Monday but because these particular recruits don’t have a background in childbirth education, I was able to wax lyrical on one of my favourite subjects – why and how the female body is so brilliantly designed to do what it’s supposed to ie: go forth and multiply!

You may be wondering what made these particular recruits want to undergo, this RCM (that’s Royal College of Midwives, doncha know!!) accredited training programme and become a part of the Natal Hypnotherapy™ organisation, as they’re not already midwives, doulas or antenatal educators.  The answer’s simple...

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Ostrich Burger Anyone?

Natal Hypnotherapy, hypnobirthing Hertfordshire and Middlesex Mama Serene

I recently had the luck to go away for a night with a couple of friends of mine.  All of us busy working mums so the arranging of this luxury was not the most simple of tasks. Other halves had to make sure they could be certain places at certain times, play dates had to be arranged so children would not be stranded at school, multiple packing of multiple suitcases had to be undertaken as well as making sure that school bags had everything that was needed for the next two days so that afore mentioned other halves would have no reason to berate us for taking this much deserved break. However, eventually off we set, our guilt at leaving our children firmly under control (kissing them until I had to be physically removed does not count!) and very much looking forward to our road trip.

We had ...

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Too Scared to Push?

Been meaning to get back to blogging for ages, but there always seems to be something else – children, work, dogs - that gets in the way . However, the report at the weekend about women being able to choose a Caesarean section, regardless of medical necessity was obviously the kick up the bottom I needed to put mouse to mat, because here I am! Please, don’t think for one moment think I’m disapproving of those with a valid reason for choosing a section. I’ve seen enough clients traumatised by bad birth experiences to know that c-section really is the only option if they want to extend their family. . With those women, I join in rejoicing that an overwhelming fear-factor can be, if not removed, at least circumnavigated, so they can enjoy their pregnancies, births and children. Nor am I saying those whose births ended as Caesareans, should have fought harder/done something differently. Far from it – birth doesn’t always go according to plan and whether a medical necessity, circumstance or intervention necessitates babies coming out via ‘the sun roof’, the birth of a baby and the start of a new life is always something to celebrate as is the fact that we have the life-saving technology we do.Read More

I’m pregnant – Only good stories please!

Why do people have a hard time remembering their manners when it comes to talking to pregnant women?  Would you go up to someone who was about to have their appendix out and say “My cousin Stan, died from that operation!” Or “She was never the same again….” to someone about to have a hysterectomy??????  Yet on hearing that someone is expecting, complete strangers will waste no time in saying  “…..52 hours in labour I was, huge baby – they had to cut me – couldn’t sit down for weeks….”  or “….the pain was unbelievable – thought I was going to die…”

The media does not help, ‘One Born Every Minute’, Channel Four’s recent documentary on the labour ward at Southampton Hospital worn a BAFTA for Best Factual Series.  The majority of births were, quite frankly, terrifying...

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Good Enough Parenting!

I don’t think I am a very good parent!  Possibly a harsh criticism of myself, but lets examine the evidence.  I have three daughters (DD1 -7, DD2 – 7 and DD3 – 4 nearly 5) and they have made not listening an art form!

I enter into pointless arguments with them and have to be reminded, on many occasion, that I am the grown up.   I have become quite talented in blocking out the constant “Muuuummmmmeeeeee, she hit/stuck her tongue out at/pinched/kicked/looked at (I know – seriously!!!!) me” chants and have made it known that only if they draw blood will I pay any attention.  I’m not particularly good at playing games with my girls – they never play fair anyway – and I am not adverse to sticking them in front of the TV for a bit of peace and quiet...

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