This read is for anyone who might one day have, or just recently had a C-section. This is also for coaches who’ve felt unsure how to navigate recovery, or how to guide a student safely back into movement after C-section. Please share it with anyone who could benefit from this.

Trigger warning: The first part of this blog includes a portion of my birth story. If that feels like too much, feel free to skip ahead to the second section: Recovery.

My C-Section Story

Birth not going to plan is common.

One morning, at 34 weeks, I had an unsettled feeling and the baby had not had her normal morning flurry of movement. I drank caffeinated coffee, ate chocolate and fruit. All things that would have got her doing cartwheels inside, but instead she lay quiet. Feeling nervous, I went into the local maternity unit to make sure everything was ok with her. I was in a room divided by curtains with other preggos getting checked. The CCG showed that she was in fact in distress. A nurse promptly took me upstairs to a private room to do “further monitoring”. But as soon as I sat down, in rushed four doctors, my birth team, who announced that the baby would need to be born within the hour if we wanted to ensure that she survived.

Good bye water birth in my living room with my trapeze hanging over the birth pool.

My partner arrived quickly and in hand he had my birth plan . .. the “back up plan “, the one I made and thought/hoped I wouldn’t need. And he said, it’s ok. You planned for this too. It was what I needed to sign the papers for the anesthesiologists to administer the epidural and begin the whirlwind that followed. But my back up birth plan did not include the possibilities that the baby would be in distress, which meant . .

No soft lighting

No intimate setting

No delayed cord clamping

No skin to skin

No first nursing

I sort of got my playlist, played from my partner’s phone next to my ear.

But what still hurts is that I did not get to hold my daughter when she was born.

I didn’t even get to see her face. She was wearing a breathing mask, held in front of me for a few seconds before being whisked away to the NICU and there I lay empty and open to a room of strangers.

And here is where the new part of the journey began. Pulling myself back together again both emotionally and physically. I am grateful that I was able to build a team to help mend me; this included a birth trauma therapist, and a pilates instructor who specializes in postpartum care.

For me, with patience and awareness, I am 95 % back to pre-pregnancy strength, but I have far surpassed my pre-pregnancy body with new found micro awareness and control of my core. I believe that in a few more months I might be stronger than I have ever been.

I wanted to share a bit about my story, and to share some practical things which I found useful in my own recovery journey. I am not an expert in the field of postpartum recovery and the information I am presenting is not medical advice. What’s shared here is meant to encourage and give some practical information. Everyone’s recovery will be unique to them, and based on their body, health and specifics to their own birth, I also encourage you to find your own team of specialists to help in your own healing process.

Recovery

The First 6 Weeks: Rest & Don’t Panic

I know, I know—after already taking a hit on training time, the last thing you want to hear is that you need to rest even MORE. But trust me on this one: rushing your recovery can make things worse.

Your body has been through major surgery. All medical guidance out there suggests a full six weeks of rest. A previous version of me would have done some sneaky conditioning to expedite me getting back in the air. But the hard knocks of my own full fertility journey taught me to have a little more patience, and also to heed the advice of my medical team. So I abided by this guideline and I’m happy I did.

You might feel wobbly, weak, tired—like your body isn’t your own. I promise, this won’t last forever. Think of yourself like a donut: there’s a hole in the middle, nothing holding you together. It will take time to rebuild that strength.

BUT if you must do something, here are 2 safe things to focus on:

1. Posture Awareness

Has pregnancy shifted your posture?—hello, anterior pelvic tilt! The weight of your belly and breasts pulled you forward, and now your ligaments (thanks, relaxin) are stretched out like old rubber bands. Plus, the sensation of your incision might make you want to hunch forward in a subconscious attempt to protect it.

Add in all the time spent nursing or feeding while slumped over, and… yeah. Your posture probably needs some love.Working on your posture will help with your body awareness and begin to rebuild your strength in a safe way. At random points in my day, while standing, sitting or even walking I would bring my mind to my posture.

Try these:

Mirror love
Check yourself in the mirror (with love!). You probably think you’re standing up straight—but are you?
Make sure your head isn’t jutting forward.
Exhale, pull your ribs in and down.
Engage your pelvic floor (like you’re stopping a pee).
Lengthen your lower back by dropping your tailbone and drawing your belly toward your spine.

The Circle Image

Imagine a circle of energy that pulls your alignment back together.

The front of the circle pulls your pubic bone up and sends the energy up

The top of the circle settles your shoulders down

The back of the circles slides your shoulder blades down

The bottom of the circle drops your tail . . and you are back to the front

The Zipper

While standing imagine a zipper that starts right at your crotch and zips up to your head. Zip is slowly from bottom to top thinking of the two sides of your body sealing together.

You can just do these whenever you think of it. Begin to bring awareness back into your body.

2. Lateral Breathing

During pregnancy, you likely developed some funky breathing patterns—maybe chest breathing because, well, there was no room for your lungs to expand! Now’s the time to reset that which will help ease your nervous system and rebuild strength

Lateral breathing helps re-engage your abs, strengthens your core, and brings more air into your system.

Try this:
Inhale and imagine your ribs expanding outward (like you’re filling up your back with air).
Keep your belly button pulled toward your spine as you exhale and feel your ribs squeeze back in.

Why is this important?
Helps reawaken your core.
Reduces stress and calms your nervous system.
Supports pelvic floor health

This phase is all about patience, awareness, and setting the foundation for a strong return. Your aerial practice will still be there when you’re ready—take care of yourself now so you can come back even stronger!

___________________________________________________________________

From 6 Weeks On—Start SLOWLY!

The day I hit my six-week mark, I laced up my running sneakers and went for an aggressive walk. Not running (that’s not allowed yet), but I was determined to get moving. I walked for hours each day.

By day three? Excruciating back pain.

Why? I forgot step one: Posture.

I thought I was good—ready to go, strong, clear. But with my baby strapped to my front, my core wasn’t ready to support me. My ribs were flaring forward a lot, and I didn’t even realize it. Once I slowed my pace, and worked on my posture awareness while lateral breathing, the pain was gone within a few days.

Lesson learned: If something hurts, don’t push through it. Your body is talking to you—listen.

Scar Massage

Sounds nice, right? A little oil, some gentle rubbing? Nope. Scar massage is NOT glamorous—it can be intense physically and also emotionally if you have trauma around your c-section experience.

But it can be such a helpful part of the recovery process. Here’s why: You’re an aerialist. You’ve most likely spent time rolling around on a physio ball or peanut at some point. And you may have felt that burning, tearing feeling in a particularly tight area. This is the feeling of the fascia peeling away from the muscle where it had previously been sticky. Fascia needs to move freely and glide over our muscles.

The Anatomy of a C-Section

You didn’t just get one incision—you got seven.

1. The first three are horizontal (through skin, fat, and fascia).
   
2. The next four are vertical (through abdominal muscles, peritoneum, uterus, and amniotic sac).
   

Once healed (around six weeks), it is deemed safe to start scar massage to prevent adhesions.

Think about it: Your fascia has basically been sewn to the skin and muscle. And you need to break this up again. If it doesn’t move freely, it’ll limit your range of motion and make skills like waist wraps and front balances excruciating.

How to Do It:
No oil (yet). You want dry hands so you can actually pull on the skin. Save the oils for afterward as a little reward.

There are great YouTube tutorials out there, but here are a few techniques I personally used (and sometimes still do!):

• Circles: Use two fingers to draw firm circles (as deep as you can handle) along the scar. Go over and under the full length of it.
  
• Diagonal Pulls: One hand pulls up and to the right, the other down and to the left. Switch directions.
  

At first, you might have numb spots or areas that zing when you touch them. That’s normal—your nerves are still rebuilding. With time, this will ease up.

Exercises to Ease Back In

Wall Sit

• Stand with your back against a wall.
  
• Step your feet forward slightly.
  
• Bend your knees and press your entire back against the wall.
  
• Drop your tailbone, pull belly button to spine and flatten your ribs – Take some lateral breaths!
  

All Fours Hold

At first, being on hands and knees can feel as hard as a full plank. I remember my arms trembling, feeling so weak, just trying to keep my back flat.

If this feels difficult—that’s okay. You are a donut. You won’t be one forever.

Bent Arm Hang

• A great way to rebuild arm strength before jumping back into inversions.
  
• Tip: Don’t rush inversions! Rebuild your core and bent-arm strength first. The full invert will come later.
  

Here’s to Your C-Section Recovery!

This process is a marathon, not a sprint—but you will get there. Be patient, be kind to yourself, and trust that your strength will return.

The post So You Had a C-Section… Now What? appeared first on Paper Doll Militia.

I’m not alone in this; I’ve noticed that many aerialists share a similar lifestyle—one that’s incredibly packed! I want to delve into this concept and explore how it intersects with my aerial practice and fertility journey.

In my previous blog I talked about the fear of becoming a mother. Here I’ll talk about the first trimester and that fear more realized.

I’m currently navigating my sixth pregnancy, if you don’t know my story, no I don’t have a hoard of children. I’ve never made it to the point of having a live birth, though I’ve spent a seemingly enormous amount of time being pregnant over the past 3 years. With each of my pregnancies, I didn’t slow down, not before, during or after the losses, until now, with number six.

On learning of the loss of my first pregnancy, what was my immediate reaction? I headed straight to the studio and created a piece about it, with my husband composing the accompanying music. Our mutual art became a powerful means for both of us to navigate and process our grief. For me, moving my body has proven to be one of the most effective ways to move through and process emotions.

Aerial is my outlet, my income, and in some ways has become an integral part of my identity. And thus I approached each pregnancy much like I do most of my life, with this mantra, “how much can I fit in before . . .”

If you’ve participated in our Remote Teacher Training, you’ll be familiar with all the reference videos that are part of the course. Many of the Level 1 rope and silks videos featuring me were filmed during my first pregnancy, and Level 2 lyra and trapeze videos, including the full beats section, were filmed during my fourth pregnancy.

Each loss propelled me into a flurry of further action based response. I underwent every possible test through multiple private healthcare practitioners, seeking to unravel the mystery of what was going on. I did blood work of every kind and hormone analysis. I had a hysteroscopy of my womb and ultrasounds of my ovaries. I replaced my undergarments with organic ones, eliminated all chemicals from my home, and invested in a water purification system. I worked privately with a nutritionist, kinesiologist, pilates instructor and spent loads of money on supplements. I even took out my nose ring because I was told the metal interrupts my meridian lines. I took progesterone tablets and low dose aspirin (the NHS form of support for multiple miscarriages). I delved into books and blogs of various kinds in search of answers, only to find that all tests indicated I was 100% healthy. Nothing I did made a difference. The cause was chalked up to “a bad roll of the dice with an older body.”

The term “older body” struck a chord. My great grandmother had five children, two of whom were born when she was over 40. Babies born to women over 40 aren’t a new phenomenon solely attributable to changes in the workforce (perhaps a topic for another blog—staying on point!).

Throughout this entire journey, I consistently felt a twinge of desire to train, to make progress, and be as fit as possible before reaching the point in pregnancy where I knew I would need to ease off a bit.

As an instructor, I always emphasize to my expecting students, the importance of listening to their bodies. I advise against attempting to up-level during pregnancy or trying new skills. Instead, stick to what you know and listen to your body. Here I am in my fifth pregnancy training. To be honest, I felt perfectly fine doing so and had no signs indicating a need to slow down.

Following this loss, I sought the guidance of a Traditional Chinese Medicine Doctor. She asserted that she could balance my hormones and to my surprise also improve egg quality. This contradicted what others had told me, insisting that egg quality was fixed based on age and life decisions. What was equally refreshing was her statement, “oh, you have time.” She prescribed a three-month period of not actively trying to conceive to allow my womb to rest and heal, along with weekly acupuncture sessions and a daily intake of a rather unpleasant-tasting tea.

After the prescribed rest period, she gave the green light to resume trying. Enter baby #6. At a session when I was about six weeks pregnant, I asked her opinion about plane travel during pregnancy. I had been offered an exciting opportunity to work with Aloft Circus Arts Professional Training Program in Chicago, but I had reservations about plane travel, considering it risky in the first trimester. She matter-of-factly assured me that it would be fine, but then she picked up my backpack from the floor.

“This is too heavy!” she said. “If you are going to travel, you must not carry a heavy bag. And also, you shouldn’t lift your bag into the overhead compartment. It’s not good to reach your arms up high.”

Excuse me? I really didn’t think my bag was heavy at all, and reaching my arms up high?

I then showed her a video of what I do, which she had no idea about.

She shook her head. “No, you can’t do that.”

We’ve all heard people telling women what they can and can’t do. While I firmly believe in listening to my own body, I was also seeking her medical advice, and I thought it would be useful for her to clarify more.

“Well, can I go running?”

“No.”

“Can I lift weights?”

“No.”

“Can I do abs?”

“What do you mean by that?” she asked.

I showed her an example of abs on the acupuncture table.

“No, not that either.”

“What can I do?”

“You can walk. And don’t drink cold liquids, and don’t sit on the floor; it puts too much pressure on your womb. Sit in chairs only. Keep your feet and legs warm.

“For how long is that all I’m allowed to do, or rather not do these things?”

“For the first trimester at least.”

So I left with my new batch of Chinese herbs and a question. Should I follow her advice for the first trimester?

Why not?

“There is a saying: ‘If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always got.’”

I reached out to Aloft and, despite being in the early stages of pregnancy, shared my news as a way to explain that I’d need to make a plan to adapt my workshops and how I’d be working with the protrack students. Their response was incredibly supportive. I also informed the Professional Program Students about my situation, emphasizing that I had a sensitive passenger and that I was following strict orders from my doctor. Throughout the week, they ensured there was a chair next to me, and when I went to demonstrate something, they would ask, “Are you sure?” and patiently let me explain instead. Breaking the habit of constant activity was challenging, but having the students caring so much about me was so wonderfully supportive and encouraging.

There was a part of me that felt like a fraud for not demonstrating. Much of my instructional practice is deeply rooted in somatics, with me being kinesthetic learner myself. When a student has a question where I don’t have an immediate answer to hand, I often say, “Give me one moment,” and work my way through the skill, then say, “Ah, I see your problem.” What I really mean is, “Ah, I FEEL your problem.”

I also saw many rad aerialists in Chicago and I just wanted to play with them!

Being grounded challenged me significantly as an instructor. Reflecting on my early days in the Bay Area when I was still a fledgling instructor, I remembered watching my senior, Helene Turcotte, a 20-year veteran performer then turned instructor who NEVER demonstrated. She calmly talked her students through the movements, and her students thrived. It’s a different skill set to teach without demonstrating at all and one that, I have to admit, is not as developed yet as I think it could be, even though I’ve been teaching since 2005.

However, there were other changes and challenges unfolding within me during this time. One of these was the loss of my runner’s high. I love running because of that feeling. I’d recently started running my 5K 3-5 times a week again and was really loving it. I’d previously given it up as another tactic in my fertility journey. I’d stopped for about a year because I’d found some research that states that high intensity sport and cardio spikes cortisol which decreases progesterone – which is crucial to proper egg implantation.

During that period of not running, I had found an acceptable replacement that worked for me: Kundalini yogic breathwork. I could achieve a similar high (or close to it) without running by doing breath of fire every morning. However, breath of fire was also on the list of things to not to do while pregnant.

The absence of that energetic release began to affect my mental health in an interesting way.

Running, lifting weights, doing aerial, dancing vigorously, or practicing breath of fire all made me feel fierce. The lack of these activities left me feeling fragile.

I AM NOT FRAGILE! I would hear a voice in me shouting.

I also began to experience a looming fear of losing strength; having dreams of not being strong enough to invert. This was compounded by body dysmorphia with a dread of becoming flabby, which to me is different from having a baby bump. The days passed and I felt myself getting softer.

But then something happened . . .

I have had fairly consistent pain for maybe 12 years now. It comes and goes, sometimes it’s almost unbearable, other times just a mild discomfort. I can attribute all these pains to exact injuries over the years. They live in my right hip flexor, my hamstring insertion, my ribs, in my lower back and one of my knees.

In the quiet moments, particularly when lying awake at night, I sensed a feeling of unwinding taking place. One night, it almost felt as if the bones in my hip were moving. Now this could be attributed to relaxin surging through my body, the hormone that facilitates ligaments stretching for the pelvis to open during childbirth. But I’m not so sure. The changes were all happening exactly in my injury locations. I could feel a tension, an old tension leaving my body. All my pains are gone.

Is this what deep rest does?

Sure I’ve had spells where I was grounded due to injuries, broken bones, torn muscles, et cetera. But when I was injured in one part of my body I would just train a different part. But to stop ALL activity except for walking for three months, now that’s a different game altogether and something I have not done in my 20 years of doing aerials.

Years ago, during a serious bout of pneumonia, my mother, a nurse familiar with my tendencies, told me, “Sarah, remember, doing nothing is DOING something right now. Resting energy is healing energy. The less you do, the quicker your body will heal.”

Did it take these few months of doing nothing for my muscles to have the space to release this tension from injuries of years and years ago? And at that same time the energy I wasn’t expending on aerials was building bones, small, new ones in a little body in my womb.

So, where am I now? I’ve successfully navigated through the first trimester, and my weekly acupuncture appointments have transitioned to monthly ones, with no need for the tea anymore. My practitioner also gave me the tentative go ahead to start to explore more movement, but slowly. I’m into my third trimester now.

No one can REALLY KNOW why this one is still with us. Was it because I stopped all activity? Perhaps it’s linked to the spiritual healing work I undertook just before conceiving again. Or could it be the introduction of animal products into my diet after seven years of being a vegan? Maybe it was the acupuncture and Chinese herbs, or quite possibly it was literally just a lucky roll of the dice.

But no matter what is happening with my fertility journey and why behind it all, I can reflect on one thing. This time of rest has changed me.

I’ve shifted my attention to the benefit of this experience rather than the temporary loss of my passion. I always say that I’m in this for the long game. Expect to see me in the air when I’m pushing 80 years old. Perhaps one of the keys to the long game is switching off the DO mentality, at least from time to time. Sometimes for various reasons your body needs rest. I’ve been doing aerials for 19 years and I’ve NEVER taken a 3 month break.

NOT DOING isn’t the void, it is an opportunity for something else to come in its place. And in my case, I think it is a time of healing which will support my real aerial goal of the long game. Maybe it will mean something else too, someone coming in about 8 more weeks.

I am not fragile, I am fiercely doing the best thing for my sensitive passenger, but also for me.

I AM FIERCE!

_____________________________________

Want to listen to Sarah tell the FULL unedited RAW version?

Check it out on the Expecting Aerialist podcast.

The post Fragile or Fierce – The Great Slow Down appeared first on Paper Doll Militia.