You may know that I have 2 teenage sons whom I love fiercely. When I fell pregnant with my eldest, I was consumed by the tsunami of childbirth and child rearing material thrown at me. Not once did I consider the days following the birth - after all, the prize was the baby who would effortless slip into my life. Furthermore, my body would instantly return to it’s pre-pregnancy splendour- Boy, was I wrong!
I remember my mum swooping down to our new house in the Scottish Borders to take charge once I was finally discharged from hospital. She filled the freezer with homemade Chinese food. There was a pot of chicken feet soup on the hob which contained shiitake, red dates, goji berries, jujube, dried cuttlefish and other Chinese herbs. Each ring on the range cooker had a pan with something wholesome and balanced on it. Dark leafy choi cooked with spring onions, ginger and rice wine; steamed sea bream in soy sauce; pork belly and potatoes marinated in fermented red bean curd and braised stuffed chicken wings. Of course, the rice cooker was standing sentry next to the hob, filled with hot, fragrant steamed rice. This is where I truly acknowledged the potency of food therapy. She also told me which foods to avoid- smoothies, yoghurt, cold and raw things. Basically nothing that could injure the Spleen and Stomach Qi.
There were many rules to confinement. I literally had no idea until this time.
For example I was not “allowed” to climb the stairs as my mother explained, in our Chinese tradition, that it could lead to prolapse. Arguably the “4th trimester” was the most crucial time for the new mother as it dictated the state of overall health for the rest of our lives. In fact, how we looked after ourselves during that time, could influence our ease of falling pregnant in the future.
It didn’t stop there! I was not permitted to wash my hair or even take a shower for 1 month so I used a basin of warm soapy water and a flannel each day. In my culture, I was also forbidden to go outdoors and as a TCM practitioner, I could understand why. I was vulnerable to the attack by Wind (an external pathogenic factor). Our postpartum bodies are more susceptible to invasion as our channels are still open following the birth of the child.
When the blessed day came where I was finally allowed to wash that mop on my head, my mother dumped a whole soup pot of water infused with ginger peel all over my scalp. I’ve never felt burning like it! Not due to the temperature of the water, but due to the searing spicy heat from the ginger peel. Mum looked on smugly, satisfied that the feng wouldn’t harm me.
Similarly, another rule was that guests were not recommended during this time as they could carry their own miscellaneous pathogenic factors in the form of bacteria and viruses.
One aspect that I couldn’t stomach was the daily consumption of spiced pigs trotters and boiled eggs in vinegar. I balked when my mother presented me with a giant jar of this concoction whilst she strictly instructed me to finish the whole thing in order to build up my Qi and Blood. I was astounded that we were speaking the same language. For decades, she never explained the TCM concepts of the soups and teas she gave me and simply forced me to eat them. Occasionally she would say that I had “yeit hei”- translated as “hot air/energy”. Despite this sweet moment of bonding, I hid the jar away until I could launch it into the garbage wheelie bin, never to be seen again.
It interests me now that “confinement hotels” are gaining popularity in the East. It’s probably a result of the growing disconnectedness that we have with our community and lack of space for support within our housing. At the very least, these tried and tested traditions are staying alive and the new mother is viewed as the priority rather than the emphasis being purely on baby’s health.
If you are looking into how to support yourself in the post-natal days, get in touch to book in for a Mother Warming session where I will come to your house and deliver a nourishing and loving treatment. There will be moxa, massage and needles, and I promise, no pigs trotters!