Goodbye Little Brother…
Today, 3 weeks ago, I received the news that my stepbrother, Henrico, had passed away. He had been battling with addiction and illness for a number of years – and when I received this news, there was relief and there was sadness. Death is so final. Henrico, or Rico as we called him, came into my life, through my stepfather Hendrik, the father of my two younger sisters, Gypsy and Jasmin. We had always been a family of girls – my mother Carol, my sister Kate and I, with our father playing a long distance and more peripheral role. Rico had been born before my mother entered into a relationship with his father. Rico was small and he was mischievous, a very boisterous bundle of energy in what had heretofore been a very feminine household with 4 daughters. He moved between his mother’s home and ours – neither space was very stable for him I believe. I do remember him jumping onto my bed in the early hours to wake me (he was about 3 or 4 and I was a grumpy teen – this was a ritual I did not enjoy although I do look at it with fondness now). A memory that warmed my heart was the day he jumped into my lap, hugged me tightly and asked me to be his godmother… Rico was in the car that killed my mother, his father and our sister Gypsy. He spent the next couple of weeks in a coma at Tygerberg Hospital, muttering and calling their names. He was unconscious but he knew… By the time he awoke, the funeral had passed and he was left shocked and confused. The rest of us had grieved these deaths together and he was left to process this all on his own. With a broken leg. That accident was earth shattering and when I look back 17 years, I see how this heart breaking event scattered those of us affected by the wind. 17 years later, I am helping to carry Rico’s coffin to his grave. It is small and it is light. The church ladies are clapping and singing. We each take turns to cover his coffin with sand and, once covered, we celebrate his life by decorating his grave with an abundance of flowers. Goodbye Little Brother… We love you Goodbye Little Brother… We thank you I am grateful. 17 years ago, the accident shattered my family. 17 years later, it feels like Henrico’s death and funeral brought some healing as we all gathered again to say goodbye. I am relieved. Henrico was suffering. His body is free of that turmoil now. I wish him peace. I am sad. Death is so...
Read MoreArriving into the Birth Space
The first time mother phones you in the middle of the night to say her waters have broken, or that mild surges have begun. It is definitely still early labour and you have both discussed her letting you know when things feel like they are starting, but especially the first time around, this can all take a bit of time. This is a sign that the body is preparing, getting ready for labour. You suggest she and her partner rest now, and allow her body to do the work it needs to do while they rest, there is nothing they can do to make it happen or go faster, that labour takes time. It can be a few hours, or later that day, or the next night, or even the following day that you finally get called to go and be with the mother but you have remained in communication throughout, either with her or her partner or a family member…usually you know when she is no longer communicating and someone else has taken over the communication that labour has truly kicked in. Once you are aware that she is in labour you begin to tune in, you plan your life and your day, your work, your schedule, your children, your family, your arrangements, your sleep, your travel, around the potential of now being summoned some time in the next 24 hours or so… You slow down, aware that overstimulating or exhausting yourself will not serve you or the labouring woman once you arrive at her home, so you cancel and shift things, and rest as much as you can, as you may be up all night, or two…or three… You summon that elephant energy, knowing that even though you are not present with her yet in body, you are already attuned to her and her labour and her needs…you are guarding the process from afar and slowly making your way to her as she needs you. It is incredible how the universe appears to pause and make space for this labour and birth of this mother and baby. It does feel as though time takes a deep breath and suspends itself for that labour and that birth. Arriving at the home of the labouring woman is arriving at a temple, a sacred space. We tiptoe gently into the space, interacting as little as possible, making ourselves comfortable in a spare room or in the sitting room if unoccupied, or making tea, or sitting in the garden. You will feel the soupy softness of the sleepy oxytocin as you enter the space. Tread gently, being careful not to pop the delicate bubble you are stepping into. Listen. Sit. Be…sleep. Follow the lead of the woman. It may be that it is still early labour, and that life is busy and distracting and that is what is keeping the mother there. Her family may be demanding attention and so you can play with the children or chat with the grandmother while the mother goes and rests her body and ner neocortex. Continue to remain aware of the basic needs of the labouring woman and what may be impacting them. Work with the environment as opposed to directing the mother. Adjust the environment appropriately and the mother’s body will...
Read MoreBreech Painting
I was 23 and pregnant with my 2nd child (my first daughter) when I painted this. She was sitting breech and I painted this to honour how she had chosen to stay close to my heart while in utero. I had been surprised and shocked when I had gone for my single check up at my local hospital for back up for my home birth when the doctor who saw me told me I would need to have a caesar if my daughter opted for staying breech. It was the first time I had heard of this protocol (it was 2003 so I suppose the Hannah Breech trial was fairly fresh). On the farm where I had grown up, my mother had attended breeches and twins with no issues. It was the first time I had heard of someone saying a caesar was necessary for this variation of normal. I chatted to my midwife about it and she suggested homeopathic remedies and inversions to try to encourage my daughter to flip. I did this for about a week and one night while I was lying in bed about to go to sleep I was overcome with extreme nausea as my daughter did a big movement. When I went to visit my midwife the next day she was able to confirm that my daughter was now head down. She must have turned head down during that big movement. I don’t know if she was meant to have been born breech or if she would have flipped on her own in the end but when I went into labour a couple of weeks later she decided on a posterior position that challenged me with strong labour and was born facing sunny side. In her own way she still needed to be born...
Read MoreSHARING SOME THINGS ABOUT ME
My name is Ruth Ehrhardt and I am the mother of True Midwifery (see truemidwifery.com). True Midwifery was birthed in 2014 as my home and safe haven for my birth-related work. I am the daughter of a traditional midwife. My mother fell into this calling ‘by accident.’ One night she was called to a woman in labour on our farm here in South Africa. We lived over an hour from the nearest town and any sort of help. My mother was with this mother as she birthed her breech baby. After that all the women on the farm would call my mother to be with them. I am very grateful for this imprint of birth and birth attendance that I received. I am the mother of 4 children, all young adults now, who were all born at home. Their names are San, Sai, Ayo and Kaira and they are my pride and joy. I also have a spirit daughter called Erie, who came to me through my life partner Crallan. She lives very close to my heart and is currently walking the path of Birthkeeper. I basically spent my 20s pregnant and breastfeeding. I fell pregnant at 20 with my first child at 20 and gave birth to my last at 28 and breastfed her until she was nearly 2 years old. I count this intensive time with my children as a golden era that gave me the true foundation of my birthing and mothering education. I have been practicing yoga and meditation since I was 20 years. This practice has been my rock and lighthouse through all the ups and downs in my life. I am forever grateful to the wise ones who left these tools for us to use to ground and anchor in this dance called life. I love to sing. I love music. I have lived by the ice-cold Atlantic Ocean for over 16 years but have never felt called to swim in it unless I’ve been very pregnant or it’s a very very hot day. Recently though, as my cycles begin to shift, I am feeling drawn to immersing myself in this glacial element and enjoying the challenge. Brrrrr ? I am the author of a little book called The Basic Needs of a Woman in Labour. It explores the environmental factors that support childbirth very simply and succinctly.It is based on the work of Michel Odent and has been translated into 13 different languages, with more on the way. I love to write and tell stories… especially birth stories that are empowering and inspiring. I have experienced a lot of grief and death in my life. These have been powerful teachers. I left school and home at 16 to work. Our family’s form of income was destroyed in a fire and it became necessary. I completed my high school education after I had two children. I studied while pregnant and with a young child. I wrote my final high school exams when my eldest daughter was 8 weeks old. I then went on to officially study midwifery after my youngest daughter was weaned when I was nearly 30. I am a fierce advocate for the vulnerable. It started with cleaning rivers and protesting children’s and whales’ rights when I was 7 years old. I think I inherited this from my mother who protested not being able to use the ‘whites only’ slide as a 7-year-old by using the ‘whites only’ slide. Go, Mom! I have a beautiful life partner Crallan. He has been the most incredible support in my life. He makes me...
Read MorePlanting Seeds
Yesterday I gave a talk about The Basic Needs of a Woman in Labour to a group of 13 to 14-year-old grade 8s, my youngest daughter Kaira’s class. The teacher had arranged a week of talks around the theme of ‘Skills for 2030’ making a call some weeks prior to anyone willing and able to make an offering that they felt fit this category. As the most ancient of ‘professions’ (one of the two eldest) and yet one which very much holds the future of humanity quite literally in its hands, I felt this was a very suitable subject matter for this topic. What more important skill to still have in 2030 than knowing how to guard and protect birth? We called the talk ‘Guarding Birth’ and I spoke about how important it is for us to know and have awareness as fellow humans around the very simple understanding and the act of guarding and protecting this most precious and sacred process. I spoke about how we are all actually mammals and that all mammals need safety and protection when giving birth. I shared about oxytocin, the shy hormone of love, and how important it is to create that feeling of safety in the person giving birth so they can produce this hormone to birth their baby. And you know what? It really grabbed their attention! They listened with concentration and curiousity as I went over my own history and calling as a birth attendant and how I came to write my book. I shared some birth stories (and only made my daughter blush once). We even spoke about placenta rituals and stillbirth! It was sweet and matter-of-fact and they seemed almost hungry for this knowledge. Whilst they may not be needing to tap into this knowledge fully at this stage of their lives I like to think I planted some seeds. And I and I left a copy of my book as a resource in their library… Copies of my book The Basic Needs of a Woman in Labour are available in ENGLISHBRAZILIAN PORTUGUESESPANISHITALIANFRENCHDUTCHSWEDISHGERMANARABICTURKISHRUSSIAN To arrange bulk orders of a title in your language please contact me directly. Leave copies lying around,you never know, someone who really needs it may pick it up. Thank you for being part of spreading the love “A small book, with a message that is completely touching, and beautifully summarized what a beautiful natural birth should look like and what the woman needs for this. I hope this booklet will inspire many pregnant women, their birth partners, and birth professionals.”– Jessica, Essential Health, Holland (5 Star AMAZON...
Read MoreCarol’s Inner Guide Meditation
Today is my mother’s birthday and today I share the story of the inner guide meditation that led us back to her homeland, South Africa. My mother Carol was born in Athlone, Cape Town, a Cape Coloured woman. At age 18 she moved to Switzerland and lived there for 20 years. My sister Kate and I were both born there. Kate and I grew up with her South African stories and songs, warming us whilst surrounded by the snowy mountains of Switzerland. We visited South Africa for the first time after it became possible for us to travel as a family (white father, Cape coloured mother, mixed race children, Apartheid South Africa), led here by my mother’s inner guide, a bushman. This is the story of how she met this guide – the story of her rebirth and first tentative steps out of Europe and back to her roots and homeland. My mother passed away 15 years ago in a car accident along with my sister Gypsy and my stepfather Hendrik. Happy Birthday, Mom…we miss you. “Close your eyes, Carol,” Matthias said. Matthias was a tall skeletal gay man. A Buddhist psychologist friend who worked with Carol at the psychiatric hospital in Bern on floor D2. Carol was lying on her back in Matthias’s sitting room. She lay, surrounded by a pile of Indian silk cushions, one under her head. The sun streamed in through the window and onto her, making her feel comfortable and sleepy. Her children were with their father, he was down from London on one of visits. Single parenting was hard, but it was also what she had chosen. She was enjoying this much needed and uninterrupted break. “Relax, just breathe. Let everything go. Forget about everything. Just be…” She felt the air move in and out of her nostrils. She felt her body relax and she felt her breath becoming more regular and prolonged. I could stay like this forever, she thought, her tired body tingling. And with each out breath, she felt the weight of her body sink into the floor. Aaaah… “Now, imagine yourself in a landscape…” She saw herself standing in a grassy meadow. She was high up, high above sea level, with the most marvellous view, rolling hills and snow-capped mountains. Blue skies. Blooming flowers. Bright green, dotted with buttercup yellows and pinks and whites. The air felt warm and she wanted to lie in the grass. She listened; the air was busy with the work of insects. A stereotypical Swiss summer scene. How positively blissful, she thought. She felt herself drift off. “Imagine an animal walking towards you from a distance. It is heading straight for you. Looking very determined.” She found this disconcerting. There was no animal and she felt that the presence of one would be irritating. How dare Matthias bring up something so silly and disconcerting? Then unexpectedly, a great big elephant’s head arose from behind a hill and its body crashed through the tranquil scene she had created in her consciousness. She panicked and wanted to run but her legs wouldn’t move. Where the fuck did that come from? It headed straight for her and yet seemed oblivious of her presence. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! Just as she thought she was going to be trampled, it stopped and for the first time seemed to notice her. She realised that this was a tame creature. He was adorned with red and gold. Tassels hung from him. He was old and wise and looked her in the eyes. He held his trunk out to her...
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