Recently I had to have some very unexpected emergency surgery. Not only did this throw my own plans and routines out the window but each member of my family was affected by a sudden decrease in my abilities and availability. It was a time, and still continues to be, of asking for and accepting help.

It took me right back to being freshly postpartum. Exhausted, sore, emotional and needing time to process what was happening and how my life had changed. I was letting go of who I thought I was and where I was headed. I had diminished physical capabilities, was caring for a surgical wound and attempting to retrain my brain to move in new ways to protect my healing body. I was also adjusting to an abrupt change in my roles as a business owner, a physically active aerial arts enthusiast, a friend, a sister, a daughter, a wife and a mother. All of those parts of me are important and provide me with a sense of value, purpose and accomplishment. I work hard to try to strike a balance between them all.

When this fragile balance was wildly overthrown and I had to step back from being physically present in many areas of my life, I was very distressed and, overwhelmingly, I felt like a burden on those caring for me and my children. It was hard to focus on my recovery and tune into my needs. It took me a while to acknowledge that I would be a happier and healthier person, who could then step back into my treasured roles stronger and with more joy, once I welcomed the kind and generous support being offered to me.

Now this probably sounds familiar to a lot of people, but it was particularly conflicting for me because I spend a huge amount of my time telling expectant parents to ask for and accept help, yet when the tables were turned, I found it so difficult!

It was a very uncomfortable experience even though I thought I had gotten quite good at expressing my needs and gratefully accepting when others pitched in. While I can honestly say that I have indeed come a long way in that area since becoming a parent, it did become increasingly clear to me that it is still something I struggle with. I had to consciously put a lot of thought and effort into letting others into our home and daily family life. 

Safe to say that during this time I reflected for many hours on what it means to ask for and accept help, and what can truly support someone during a time of upheaval or transition.

I came up with three points I’d like to share with you today in the hopes that it helps you feel more at ease with that task, whether you are the recipient or the provider. They all focus on the idea that choosing meaningful presence over material presents can be invaluable at times of need, that humans genuinely seek to be helpful and it is an honour to be involved in someone’s care.

1. It can be extremely humbling and awkward to ask for and accept help. When I felt like I was at 10% capacity and others were having to pick up the remaining 90% it was very mentally challenging. Simply being given a safe, non-judgmental space to feel my feelings, express my ups and downs and be listened too with compassion was a gift. I used the trifecta of trusted friends, family and professional help and I highly recommend this, but utilise what is available or feels best for you.
2. When people prioritise you and your care they are really saying “I see your worth, you matter, and you are important”. When I could see past the guilty feeling of being a burden (which was just a feeling, not reality) I got to witness the gift of loved ones showing me that I have previously added value to their lives when and where I could and they were gladly reciprocating this now. Realising this strengthened my connection with these people beyond measure. 
3. This will end. While I may still be in a dark spot there is light at the end of the tunnel and I will not always be so reliant on others to help move my life forward. It is important to remember that this stage is temporary and it is a privilege to have loving, supportive people along for the ride. I will remember their kindness and willingness to pick up the pieces forever.  

I was fortunate enough to be surrounded by people offering their time and assistance to help make this period in my family’s life easier. I was also given some beautiful, generous presents and by no means do I wish to diminish the uplifting gift that a little parcel of thoughtfully picked treasures is. I felt held and seen by friends far away whenever I opened a package. I could also recognise these friends were saying “I know you’re going through a lot and whilst I can’t be there in person here is a symbol of my support and love.” They themselves likely wished they could physically be with me, because we all know deep down that human connection and meaningful presence is a powerful and prized gift.

We all seek it, we all love to bestow it and we all benefit from it.

Written by Jacinda Saunders, Perinatal Support Consultant.