Floating with my favorites
“Also known as R.E.S.T. (restricted environmental stimulation technique), floating is a therapy that helps you find that calm by removing all external stimulation so you’re able to truly let go and relax and the results can be spectacular. Float Pods contain 10 inches of water and 850 lbs of Epsom salt creating a solution so buoyant that it allows you to float effortlessly and gives a sensation of weightlessness that cannot be found anywhere else. The water is heated to skin temperature allowing your body to simply melt away and this, along with the restriction of all light and sound creates a pure state of ‘sensory’ relaxation.” - FLOAT.CALM
That is the technical information you can find on Float.Calm’s website. Below is a story of the magic that can happen inside the tank.
I’ve been wanting to share this float story since my last time in the tank a few weeks ago and having this memory pop up on Facebook was just the nudge I needed.
I have floated a few times. I wouldn’t say I’m a regular, but I wouldn’t mind being. If I were to make a list of the things I do that help me answer questions, slow down, dig deeper and move forward the practice of floating would definitely make it on to the list.
I have had some great experiences while in the tank, sometimes that’s just a really great nap and sometimes it’s more. This is a story of more. This is my story of floating with my babies.
I floated while I was pregnant with Lucas and loved the weightlessness of the float. I wanted to experience that again with Abby, but I was also going in with a question, as is my practice generally when I float. I had a traumatic birth with Lucas. While being monitored in triage the nurses were having a hard time tracking a consistent heartbeat, my little bug just kept disappearing. Although they kept an extreme level of professionalism the instant rush of nurses and emergency doctors was terrifying. They wheeled me into surgery and away from Brian. They quickly moved me on to the operating table. The last thing I remember of this experience is someone yelling ‘There’s no time’ and I was out. I woke up to my husband standing beside me holding our baby boy and a horrible grogginess that took many of my early memories of the first time I met our son. There was no time for general anesthetic, they had to break my water, put me out and deliver Lucas via emergency c-section. Brian has his own scary version of these events because we were separated for the whole adventure. This whole ordeal lasted only about 10 minutes but the fear from it hung on much longer.
When we found out we were pregnant with our little surprise girl her expected arrival date meant that we were outside the window of c-section being necessary for her delivery. The choice of how to deliver her was ours, the choice was mine. Sometimes I wished we weren’t outside that window, that the choice would just be made for me. As my pregnancy neared the end my fear was intense. I could feel the exact feelings I felt the moments before Lucas’ arrival. I could hear the doctors and nurses. I started getting short of breath even driving to the hospital for my checkups. I talked to my doctor, I talked to my husband, I talked to my supports. I still hadn’t made the decision. I was so scared of going through that again, but I was also scared of missing the experience of a different kind of birth. I had no idea what to do, so I went for a float. I couldn’t hear myself through the fear and I knew I needed to quite the world around me.
That’s when I heard her. I loved being pregnant. I felt so connected to my babies while they were growing inside of me. But this time I actually heard her. While the float tank took all the noise away I asked her ‘Baby Girl, how are we going to do this?’ I asked her a few times, it took a while. That’s the other thing they have figured out about these floats, they can’t be done in 30 minutes. This is prolonged silence for prolonged effects. But then I heard her ‘Mom, I’m strong, let me show you. We can do this together.’ I wanted to jump out of the tank! I wanted to tell everyone that was holding my fear with me that we didn’t have to be afraid anymore, we had a plan. She had a plan.
That’s all it took. I set my plan for a VBAC and never looked back. When we felt her arrival was imminent walking into the hospital was still pretty darn scary, as any Mama about to go through labor will tell you. But I had been brave enough to share my fears early on. A doctor and group of nurses came over to me right away and with my file in their hand noted the trauma I was holding and reassured me this time was different. Because of a couple of small concerns that popped up, I ended up needing to be wheeled down that same hallway. The scary hallway where they took Brian away from me but this time he came. The nurse felt my anxiety rising, she stopped the wheelchair got down in front of me and helped me breath through it. And my girl was right. She was strong, she showed me and we did it together.
If it wasn’t for that float, I wouldn’t have heard my little girl while she was still on the inside. If not for the opportunity to turn the world off and get quite enough to hear a voice from the inside I don’t know what decision I would have made. Maybe I would have made the same one, maybe not. I don’t think I would have been as confident in my decision as I was after my time in the tank.
My girl is strong! She’ll continue to be strong. She’ll continue to show us that she can do it and she’ll continue to make sure her voice is heard. I love that this is a part of her story. And I’ll continue to float when things are peaceful and when things are stormy. I’ll take big questions into the tank, and I’ll take big naps in the tank. It’s ok to hold fear and it’s ok to release it.
It’s also ok to try something new. If you’re curious about the weightlessness of your body & mind inside a flotation tank go for it! You never know who you might hear in there.