Good morning from my kitchen, where there is bright light absorbing, hot tea and pesto pizza consuming, and sweet bits of reflection happening.

Thought I'd share with you. Not the pizza. That's gone. But some thoughts.

This past Saturday I woke up at the crack of dawn and drove across the Bay Bridge to Oakland to sit for an exam. The (positive) outcome (phew!) was being certified as a Perinatal Mental Health Professional (PMH-C, that's me!).

I'm not sure I knew how much this thing mattered to me until I was done. Not passing would have bruised my ego, but work life would have remained the same.

In practical terms it means I've had both fundamental and approved advanced training, at least two years experience, and have passed an exam measuring cumulative and up-to-date knowledge on the subject.

But it's more than that.

As soon as finished and grabbed the quiet space to notice how light my body felt, up floated a montage of memories about this journey.

Sitting at 38 weeks pregnant in an intensive training hearing dozens of voices whispering about the impact of their mothers and thinking, almost as though a commandment: We MUST support the moms. If we are to give them so much power and oftentimes blame, we MUST support the moms.

Hearing the stories of women around me who felt lost, disconnected, traumatized, anxious, disempowered, and sad during their motherhood journey and it not quite making sense to me...yet.

Attempting to piece together the story of my grandmother, hospitalized postpartum at age 19, properly diagnosed at age 82, months before her death. Wishing I knew more directly about her lived experience, filling in the gaps with educated guesses.

Joining this community of providers who are the fiercest, most curious, smart, and supportive group of people I've ever encountered en mass. Helping each other hold the heaviest of experiences, forming a net - with clinicians who were strangers just moments before - to help catch those terrifying feelings of free-fall that Our moms are having. Feeling like I had arrived, truly arrived, in the company of this group.

And every. single, mama who has sat on my couch. Her and her and her and her and her. These souls who felt anything but brave and yet showed up anyway, sharing such difficult private experiences and availing themselves to whatever came next.

Relearning the lifelong lesson that even though there are common and predictable manifestations of anxiety, depression, and trauma, that each mama is different and her uniqueness holds healing wisdom. Watching these mamas soar even when they felt they were merely stumbling (a sincere feat in its own right at times). 

I could go on.

And I realized then that this exam served as a ritual of sorts, one that honored the meaningful experiences leading up to it, and one that instills more confidence for what's to come. 

So anyway, it's now Shana Averbach, LMFT, PMH-C. Thanks for reading :)

Yours in wellness, self-care and compassion,
​
Shana

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Think I may be the right fit for you or a loved one? Feel free to email me at [email protected] or call 415-963-3546 for a free 20-minute consultation call.