The fire is blazing, the fan from the Koonara is humming and the room is filling with warmth. Daryl and I are sitting on our most favourite couch, a large, red, 6 foot long pillow filled with foam and down. This for us is home. When we are away, this couch, for us, symbolizes home. Cocooning us are the suede textured, sandy coloured, rendered walls that have felt the touch of our tired hands, sculpting and smoothing over the surface. Four months, through the cold of winter, we had our hands in clay, layering the walls that would then give us shelter. Shelter; making a place be a home, providing safety and a space to gather, to grow up in, to cook and be nourished, to renew ourselves and go out from. And together we sit here now, the boys completing a puzzle on the carpeted floor and I, pressing my hands into Daryl’s, sigh and allow the effort of our years of work to be acknowledged in the depth of contentment I now feel.

We did it! As primordial as it felt and was, the satisfaction is undeniable, not only on a practical level but also deep within. We have come a long way. Although committed to each other, when we started building there had been a tension in our relationship that could no longer be concealed by the everyday busyness we worked within. Issues were bubbling to the surface and along with the mass of decision-making and opportunities for self-expression when ‘creating’, the tension soon broke us in two. It was a frightening and enlightening time of change, expedited by our desire to find a way to love each other truthfully without the pain of past errors. The emotional journey of reconstructing the family had to take place. And so by listening and sharing, by being vulnerable and caring, our love expanded. We laughed and liked each other again. Wounds healed and new wisdom gained. It took some time but slowly we began to work on the house together again.

Over the 2 years it was a challenge to find a comfortable balance between building, parenting, housework, being a friend, having a social life, taking time for self, life in community; it was all compromised and I found it unsatisfying that it wouldn’t all fit into my life the way I wanted it. Every aspect felt incomplete or half done. But it was a feeling I had to get used to, I simply could not do or be all that I had in mind. And over time this was offset by the success we saw from our work. Our pride swelled with the blood, sweat and tears we shed as every part of this house felt our touch, transforming it now from the timber and straw it once was, into a house and now a home. A family moved in, us, and now, we live together in the calm, turbulent, swirling tidal ebb and flow that life with each other is. And it is good.

When we are taken to the edge of what we know about ourselves we can respond in a way that is reactive or proactive.  Sometimes our habitual patterns of behaviour, that preserve our ego, are the easiest to express, and can limit the relationship to transform in the best possible way.  I believe that great birth preparation is to check in and see what can be done now to help your relationship be as strong as it can possibly be.   That means working on yourself as much as it means working on the relationship.  And often it needs to happen is in a very simple way during a very ordinary day.

My husband and I have been through some significant changes in our relationship over the 22 years together.  I still amaze myself at how some of our stubborn issues just wont resolve and yet how wonderfully better our connection to each other has deepened.  Never the less it’s been in the trying, in the committing, in the loving as best we can, in the ‘im sorry’s', in the mundane of every day life and in the exploration of new perspectives that change has happened and good things come of it.

As a way to continue to make my relationships better and as a way to offer you something that has been very helpful to me recently I have an excerpt from a great book called ‘Choosing Happiness’ by Stephanie Dowrick.  It goes like this:

HOW TO LOVE GENEROUSLY

Love is not love except when it is generous.  To become generous, your relationship needs fewer demands and greater acceptance.  Love is never less than friendly.  If you are unsure, ask yourself, ‘Is this the best that I can do?’ Or, ‘Is this kind?’

Here are some key ways to express and deepen love.

Let minor irritations go.  Speak up about what’s pleasing.  Making this change alone could save many relationships from resentment.

Be slow to blame, quick to forgive.

Monitor the tone and content of your most routine remarks.  Listen to your tone of voice.  Watch your body language.  Recognise what emotions they express.

Be sensitive to people’s individuality.  Know which expressions of love work best for each person and in varying circumstances.

Release others from your hidden demands to behave in certain kinds of ways so that you can feel all right about them (or yourself).  Accept them as they are.

Respect other people’s choices – even when you would have chosen differently for them.  Take a lively, non-judgemental interest in their choices.

Don’t require other people to read your mind.  If you want someone to know something, be direct about it.  Speak up.

Express your feelings of love.  Don’t assume they know you love them.  Say aloud what you feel inside.  ‘I am so glad you are in my life _____.’  ‘Our early morning walks give me a magical start to the day.’  ‘There’s nothing I like more than seeing my family and friends sitting together at this table.’ Etc

Every day, see the people you love through new eyes.  Remind yourself, ‘This could be my last opportunity to show concern or express love to this person.’  Take that opportunity.

If you did nothing else but take seriously these practical ideas about loving more generously, your relationship would change for the better.  And you would be happier.

What interests me to share today is my personal achievement to have done ‘Around the bay in a day’. Its a cycling event that starts at 5.30am and has you ride your bike around Port Philip Bay in a day. It took me 8 1/2 hrs on the saddle, 12 1/2 hrs from start to finish and enough energy bars, gels and sports drinks that I could barely make myself swallow as I neared the finish line. I went with a group. I had trained through the winter. I had bought a bike and the gear and had got my family on side for their support – If ever I was on a training ride and called out to a birth, my husband would be ready to come pick me up. It was never needed but the back up plan was!

And so I went from unsettled nerves in the body, to finding my groove, pushing away doubt, shouting at my legs to stay strong, keeping my energy up, connecting with other cyclist, appreciating the breaks, feeling good inside, feeling tired inside and playing games with my mind to keep me focused to the very end. And I did it!!! I was so happy. I was fatigued but ok and it was worth it all.

What made me do it? Thats what the important question is for me. I did it for the women I work for and to honour the woman that I am too. I had my baby’s 14 and 12 years ago. It’s been a while since I connected to labour and birth. I wanted to experience that kind of journey again, somehow, and a marathon of sorts would help. I think it did. As I continued to attend births as a doula and as I sat with women talking through their birth preparations I kept making the cross connections. Women in labour do it easier if they are stronger, healthier, more resilient, humbled, prepared, ready to embrace the intensity, seek supportive team. Thats how I felt it work for me. Without any of these my ride would have been so difficult. I was challenged but not overcome and I feel a confidence in me that I am glad to carry with me into tomorrow. Erika