Loving, Learning, Giving, Growing

 

Some quotes you hear once and they stick with you for the rest of your life. When I heard someone say “The purpose of life is to love, to learn, to give and to grow”, I thought they were God. Really? It’s that simple? You can clear away all the bullshit and bring it back to those 4 raw ingredients? It took some time to get my head around that. I now love this saying and am waiting for the day I can commission an artist to paint a mural with these words permanently embedded to display proudly on my wall as a reminder of what the essence of life is all about.

The all-familiar cliché of “life is a journey” is something that is bandied around constantly nowadays. It’s almost to the point of overuse. Yes, life is a journey. Yes, you are the driver of your own bus, or Porsche or bicycle or whatever metaphorical vehicle you wish to choose. However, you are more in control of what happens in your life than you have been led to believe.

The power to change exists within you. The power to be better exists within you. The power to romance exists within you. The power to love exists within you. The power for peace exists within you. The power of choice exists within you. Everything comes back to you. What you choose to believe and what you choose to make things mean. You and only you create your reality.

Love is so undervalued. We’re taught it’s something that comes to us from external sources, not from within. However, how can we give something to others if our cup is not full? Learning to love you for who you are, flaws and all is not egotistical, it’s soulful, it’s calming, it’s certainty and it’s truth. You are so unique in who you are and the story you have to share with this world, what’s not to love? How can you expect someone else to love you if can’t even love yourself.

The body we are given is merely our vehicle in life. Love it, cherish it or use it and abuse it. The choice is yours. You can choose to be healthy or not. You can choose to eat nourishing foods, or not. You can choose to think happy thoughts or not. Ultimately the responsibility for you and your wellbeing rests with you. On that note, happiness does not come in the form of a pill, a chocolate, a man, a woman, a handbag or a pair of shoes. They may feel good and look great, but it’s only temporary fix to what’s really going on inside of you.

Learning these lessons has been difficult. It has been challenging and there has been more than one occasion where I said, “screw this; I am going back to the old me”. And then that little voice starts going off in my head “You know you are better than this. You can do this. Pick yourself up and have another shot.” And so I do. I am not anywhere close to being done yet and I sincerely doubt if I will reach a point where I’ve got all my shit sorted.

Where I have come from and what I have learnt so far has given me some fantastic tools to use when I am faced with hardships, challenges or obstacles. And just because I am working things out doesn’t mean that bad things will stop happening in my life. Things are happening all the time. Why is it that we have this compulsive need to label everything in sight? Why is there judgement? Why is there segregation? And what’s it doing for us as a human race? Whatever happened to all men (and women) being created equal?

As for motherhood, it’s a learned thing; it’s not necessarily instinctual for us all. I am the proud mother of a now gorgeous, intelligent and inquisitive four year old who has a wisdom and zest for life well beyond her years. There are no signs of the struggles, rollercoasters and darkness we went through those first few years of her life. Now we spend time together, laugh together, watch Peppa Pig, argue like sisters (because we’re both pretty stubborn), make biscuits, paint each other’s nails, do crazy dances like no one is watching, have movie nights, have tea parties, go for bike rides and walks, read stories together, cuddle and tell each other “I love you” . These are the moments which I will cherish forever. 

The other night we were lying in her bed talking about things that scare us. Her comment to me was “But Mum, you’ve had a baby, you’re not scared of anything”.  There’s that wisdom again! I said to her, that having a baby was probably one of the scariest things I’ve ever done and writing about my experience of it comes a close second.

If I were to impart some wisdom from my journey and life’s learnings thus far; this is what they would be:

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• Everything starts, happens and ends with you. If you want something to be better, start by making yourself better first. The rest will fall into place.

• Become your own best friend. When you can do this, your relationship with others shifts to a whole new level. Becoming independent and loving you is a pretty powerful thing. I’d recommend you try it!

• You don’t always have to have all the answers or all the plans in place to move forward. Trust your instincts and trust yourself enough to make a decision. If it’s not the right one, you have the ability to change it.

• Become flexible. Look for alternatives. Give yourself options. At the end of the day, as long as you reach the outcome you’ve set for yourself, does it really matter which path you took?

• Surround yourself with people who really get you, who inspire you, lift you up, the ones who can be blatantly honest with you and challenge you to higher standards when they know you’re not giving your all, the ones who really have your back.

• Asking for help is not a sign of weakness, rather a sign of strength. It also shows that you have courage and are prepared to take action rather than wallow in self-pity.

• Oh and last but not least, find yourself a coach or similar, someone that resonates with you to help you work through your “issues”. To grow your thinking needs to be challenged, your boundaries need to be pushed and stretched to expand your circle of comfort.

After all, in this life if you’re not green and growing you’re ripe and rotting and I know where I’d rather be!

The Roller Coaster of Life

Waking up in recovery after surgery, I was groggy, yet incredibly grateful my partner was there waiting as requested. I had just had a laparoscopy to remove an ectopic pregnancy that had embedded itself in the end of my right tube, blocked by an ovarian cyst. A surgery that should have taken an hour took 3. In the process I’d lost a litre of blood. My trip to the hospital was the end of a long 8 weeks intertwined with several servings of life’s lessons.

Twelve months ago I discovered I was pregnant again. I was ecstatic. Secretly I’d prayed for another chance at motherhood. Finally, I had sorted myself out and was in a place where I felt I could have another crack and be okay this time around with what came my way. Although whenever people asked me when the next one was coming, I would joke that the one was more than enough for me. My outsides and my insides weren’t matching.

A few days after my positive test, I was at work and had started to spot. I left immediately and went to the doctor. There I was told I had a 30% chance I would miscarry. I went home to prepare for the worst; except it didn’t come soon.

Over the next few weeks I was sent for blood tests and scans as the spotting continued. The scans showed nothing. Nothing in my uterus and nothing in my tubes. I had begun to wonder if I had concocted the pregnancy in my mind. I secretly hoped that everything would be okay and we would get our baby. My little girl kept asking about the baby in mummy’s tummy, even though we hadn’t told her what was happening. Kids always know.

By now I had a great community around me with the coaching school, so I put it a post out on Facebook to see if anyone had dealt with threatened miscarriage (yet another label I could attach to the collection). I eventually received a message from one of the trainers asking if anyone had responded. I ended up phoning her and we spent 45 minutes together in a coaching session. After that time together, I knew that no matter what happened, it was well outside of my control and either way I would get an outcome.

I was due in Melbourne early October for a week-long training course. My symptoms remained the same. No changes. After consulting with my GP, she advised I should go and do my training. It would be a great opportunity to take my mind off things. And for reassurance she would write a letter and give me all of my reports to take with me in case anything happened while I was away.

The training in Melbourne was incredible. I am forever grateful I took the time to learn and develop my knowledge of NLP. It’s been an invaluable tool for me personally, for my relationship, my bond with my daughter and my ability to help others.

Once I returned home, it was back to the doctor who referred me to the obstetrician at the hospital, as there had been no change while I was away. Writing this now, the whole experience seems surreal. It still feels as though it happened to someone else and I just witnessed the event. Maybe that’s because I had my emotions in check this time and I had a support network like I’d never had before.

At the hospital we saw an Indian obstetrician who was difficult to understand. She delivered her verdict so cut and dry, without any emotion. I guess these guys see this every day. It doesn’t make it any easier though. Her options were to go for surgery straight away or to have an injection to stop the growth and for it to pass naturally. I was not the only one being given bad news that day; the girl in the cubicle beside me was being told she was miscarrying. My heart broke for her. This kind of loss is so common and yet it’s barely spoken about.

The fear of being cut open was still fresh in my mind; anyhow they didn’t even know where this thing was located. There was no way I was being cut unnecessarily.  I opted for the injection. This meant I could go home that night and needed blood tests every 3 days for 2 weeks to ensure the levels of the growth hormone were coming down.

Two weeks later and my levels were back at zero. I thought I had gotten through unscathed. However a couple of afternoons later, I went to get off the bed and was doubled over by a sharp pain surging up my right side. It didn’t matter what I did, I couldn’t get comfortable. In the end I took some panadol and went to bed, hoping it would go away. By the morning I could barely move.

Somehow I managed to get my daughter picked up, as my partner was at work and organised for my mum to take me to hospital. The whole time I just had this feeling that everything would be okay. It was constantly chanting away in the back of my mind. I was incredibly calm.

The doctor at the hospital pressed on my stomach and I almost flew through the ceiling. She ordered an ambulance and some morphine stat. The pain was unbearable. You know what came next.

Back on the ward later that night, I was under constant observation as my blood pressure was dangerously low. I felt wonderful. I was so happy and so grateful to be alive. I was even more grateful for the blood donor who took the time to go and donate the blood that ultimately kept me here on this earth. One of the doctors was ready to send me to ICU, but I wouldn’t have a bar of it. I felt fantastic. I was coherent and communicating. He and the nurse were shocked!

In moments of reflection, I’ve wondered where my strength came from. I keep getting the same answer. It’s all from within you.  This amazes me. To see myself as strong, capable and able to control my thoughts and outlook on a situation is a true testament of how far I had come.  Years ago it would have torn me to pieces. Now it’s a notch in my timeline.

Not long after this had happened, I was in the shopping centre one day and a friend of a friend, who I didn’t know very well, came up to me and told me she was sorry for my loss. I thanked her for her concern and walked away incredibly embarrassed. I didn’t want people feeling sorry for me. This was private and not something I wanted to be the source for local town gossip. Especially when the meaning I had given my situation was more of gratitude, appreciation and a realisation that I have been put her on this earth to make a difference.  

And I guess that’s what happens all the time – people go through stuff and we instinctively feel sorry for them, but they don’t necessarily need or want you to. Sometimes it’s just about being there, lending an ear if they need to talk and just general support. The only person who will ever know what an experience feels like is the person who has had the experience – food for thought!

Back in the Driver's Seat

Being back at work two days a week was wonderful. I felt like I had really come home. I was back in the place that was so familiar, comfortable and safe. I never knew what each day would bring, but I knew that I had the skills to deal with whatever happened. In moments of reflection I’ve often wondered why I didn’t apply the same principles to motherhood, wondered why I didn’t trust myself more than I did, that I actually knew what I was doing.

I loved being back with people, my teammates, my clients, being busy with a purpose and putting money in the bank to boot. My confidence was coming back. I felt more certain and more sure of myself than I had in the longest time. I was back where I thought I was meant to be. Grandparents and baby were happy as they shared the two days together. Most of all I was happy to be contributing again.

A couple of months in and my old role of team leader became vacant. There was a tugging feeling from within as I explored the idea of returning to that position. This place felt like my own. I had been there since the day the doors opened. I was the only one still there 2 years on. I felt a sense of responsibility and no one else was putting up their hand to take the reins, so I did.

Two days a week to five days a week was a massive step. I had talked it over with my partner and decided it was worth a shot. We quickly sourced family day care 2 days a week and let the 2 sets of grandparents take care of the other 3 days along with my partner. We had a plan.

The next 18 months were one massive rollercoaster. The first few months were exciting and new. I loved being back in my old position, working with my team and helping them grow individually to help them become better consultants and sharing my knowledge. I had a fantastic Area Leader who inspired me. He had a way with people that I’d never witnessed before. He was able to ask questions in a way that lit people up so openly. 

One day I asked him what his secret was. He looked at me quizzically at first. I said “how is it that people are so open and honest, what are you doing?” He said he’d done some coaching training. It was my turn to look quizzical because my pride didn’t allow me to ask more questions at this stage.

So I turned to my good old friend Google and started researching this “coaching” thing. The more I saw of it, the more I liked it. I’d always loved helping people. My grade 1 teacher, Mrs Hansen had nicknamed me the mother hen of the class. I was always finishing my work first and then going back and helping the slower kids to get it done. This was a quality I had carried through life. I will be honest; it’s not always something I’ve done resourcefully.

I managed to find one particular coaching school that really resonated with me and requested their information pack. The day it arrived, I was so excited. I read everything from front to back and had decided that I really wanted to do this. Then I remembered I was working around 50 hours a week with a small child and a partner. So I tossed everything into the drawer of my bedside table.

As the months went on, we got a new Area Leader; and boy was she so different. Suddenly we weren’t about the people anymore, we were about how many enquiries we had taken, how many bookings we had made, how much money had been made for the day. I had met my polar opposite.

About 12 months in I began to realise that I wasn’t coping very well with the whole “super mum” game I had been playing. I was constantly on edge. The shallow breathing and anxiety had returned. I was often in tears at the drop of a hat. I felt guilty for being at work so many hours of the day, so I would take it home with me at night to do it then and then felt guilty for not being there for my daughter.

Then there were the middle of the night phone calls from our Assist team because one of our clients was stuck in an airport in the middle of God-knows-where and I needed to make a decision there and then in a bleary state to get them home at the least cost to the store. This was especially fun during Christmas and New Year.

There was a day I finally cracked. One of the staff told me she couldn’t talk to me and she was getting a mediator.  Wtf? I couldn’t believe it. She and I had never gotten along well. I had a massive conversation with my burly Area Leader and told her I wasn’t coping and asked what my options were. She wasn’t a mum, and she didn’t understand any of the guilt I felt. We had our mediation and I then left work for the day.

Again, I was in that place where the walls were crashing down around me and I felt as though I was spiralling out of control. I didn’t know where to turn. So I called my doctor and went and saw her. Like history repeating itself, she pulled out the depression questionnaire and had me answer it. Again I rated very high in the “depressed” category. I left with a script, a psychologist’s referral and a note for 2 weeks of stress leave.

During the 2 weeks, I gained a lot of clarity. What I was doing wasn’t working for me or for my family. I would reduce the number of days I worked to 4, a slight pay cut, but it was worth it. I also made a decision that I would begin my Certificate IV in Life Coaching studies. I went back to work and this lasted about 4 months.

There are always turning points, pivotal moments where you can take the red pill or the blue pill. I remember the phone call with my Area Leader, I’d called her to know I’d received someone’s resignation. Her comment back to me was that I was the reason people were leaving. I knew this wasn’t the case. 

This business had had my blood, sweat and tears and I had little to show for it. I always put it above myself and my family’s needs. I told her that I could no longer fulfil the role and she needed to find someone who was capable of fulfilling the demands she required.

In that moment I was strong. I was clear and I knew what I wanted. I knew I wasn’t going to tolerate any more crap or be responsible for something so much bigger than me. I didn’t need to rescue or save the business; it would take care of itself. It was time for me to put myself and my family first. I had no idea who I was anymore when I looked in the mirror. I was exhausted – mentally, physically and emotionally. I had no idea what fun was or even how to take a joke. The toll those 18 months took on my life was phenomenal. How my partner is still with me today remains a mystery. Full credit goes to him for being so wonderfully supportive and picking up the pieces in the path of my destruction.