Lunar Eclipse
The final lunar eclipse of 2020 occurred , November 30th. It’s called a penumbral eclipse, and it is only visible from North America for a few hours.
An eclipse is like life. It’s temporary.
I just wrapped up a six-week childbirth education series. Twelve couples joined me over zoom every Thursday night. My students’ questions are always the same:
“How will I know that I am in labor?”
“How long does labor last?”
And I know the big question swirling around in their head. Silently, each mama is questioning her own strength and ability. Wondering, can I do this? Can I birth my baby?
The answer – every single time – is yes. Yes, every couple in my zoom class will have baby. The good news is that, like a penumbral eclipse, labor is only temporary. Unlike a torn ACL, the sensations of labor are predictable, anticipated, and normal. Contractions are not like the unrelenting pain of injured knee. Labor contractions are like a wave. They intensify and then they dissipate. There is always a break in between each contraction.
I teach my students different comfort techniques. I introduce them to the medical options available at the hospital to soothe their labor pain. I explain the benefits, risks and alternatives to each option. And the message that I repeat each week is that the more knowledge they have going into childbirth, the more empowered they will feel. Statistically speaking, the more empowered they feel, the higher the satisfaction they will have with their birth experience. That direct correlation is what motivates me to teach.
I love teaching them to face their fears. Every emotion they feel is normal. There excitement and fear in anticipating childbirth. It’s the ability to recognize both that will lead them to less tense experience.
A full moon happens when the moon and sun are directly opposite of each other in the sky. What I find compelling about a full moon is that it is a time when we can remind ourselves that we can hold both the dark and the light at the same time. The Buddhist psychologists call it equanimity. The ability to hold it all.
As a parent, I am constantly challenged to find that equanimity. Last week, my high school son tried out for the basketball team. Last year, he didn't make the team as a freshman, so the stakes were high this year. He’d grown a few inches and has been playing hoops constantly with friends. He was hopeful that this would be his year.
Tryouts were delayed two weeks due to COVID and rescheduled during Thanksgiving week. Our family had plans to spend the holiday week in southwestern Colorado. My son really wanted to try out for the team, so we drew up a Plan B. He stayed in town with my parents, tried out for the team and met us down South mid-week.
The second and final day of tryouts, I sent him a text asking him how it went. His response? “Alright. I got cut.”
Gulp. Instantly filled with disappointment, I felt horrible. Angry, confused, and sad. I thought, what do you do with an athlete who doesn’t make the team? My spirits sunk low as I hopped in the car to go meet him in Moab.
I drove north from Durango with a heavy heart. The sun set over the Utah red rocks as I approached the Canyonlands National park and I thought to myself, this is the most beautiful place on earth.
How could I feel so good when I was so sad? I experienced both joy and sorrow simultaneously. This is equanimity. I felt it all.
I picked up my son after dark. Feeling strong and brave, I was ready to listen to him commiserate. Although disappointed, he was also extremely level-headed about the experience. He explained the dynamics of the 2020 team which gave more spots for freshmen over sophomores. He understood and was not nearly as upset as I anticipated.
My despondent feelings vanished. Just like the sunset, the tryouts, and a penumbral eclipse, they were only temporary.
Hold life lightly. Feelings are like the weather. Some days are blue sky and sunny, and some days are grey. Hard things will happen to our world, our kids and ourselves. We can remember the lunar eclipse and remind ourselves that this too shall pass.