NAME: Lisa M. Turay, CSJ

OCCUPATION: Woman Religious, Women’s Wellness Counselor

Call me “Lisa.” That’s how I introduce myself to all the mothers I counsel at our women’s wellness clinic. I don’t hide the fact that I am a Catholic nun—Sister Lisa is clearly on my name badge—but I like to give clients the choice to call me by either name. After all, focusing strongly on my status in religious life invokes a set of perceptions on the part of clients that they may or may not find comfortable. Given the highly personal and deeply emotional situations we discuss, my client’s comfort is my top priority.

I’ve always enjoyed working with children and teens and was excited to expand my counseling skills by working with mothers and babies. As I learned from my undergraduate communication courses and my graduate counseling courses, a good counselor doesn’t need to be “the same” as his or her clients or have experienced what they’ve experienced; rather, he or she needs to practice the communication skills of perspective-taking and empathic listening. By doing so, I am able to help my clients get through some of the most stressful times in their lives: having babies, losing babies, and dealing with personal and family stresses surrounding babies.

Pregnant and postpartum (after-birth) women experience a wide range of physical and emotional changes. Imbalanced hormones coupled with physical challenges (like lack of sleep or impaired mobility) can reduce a woman to tears. Postpartum women often need to be reminded to eat well, attend to personal hygiene, and sleep when the baby sleeps. They are often exhausted and overwhelmed; week 3 or 4 after the birth of a child is like hitting the wall when you run—but by week 6, most can see the “finish line.” I help these women adjust their sometimes negative thinking about their current situations. There are so many schemas surrounding babies and parenthood. Negative ones like “I’m a bad mother because the baby keeps crying” or “I’ll never sleep again” need to be challenged. Seeing moms come to terms with realistic perceptions about parenthood—and begin to adjust to this new phase of life—is one of the most rewarding parts of my job.

Unfortunately, grief counseling is a necessary and very difficult part of my job. The loss of a pregnancy (particularly past the first trimester) and the death of a newborn are among the most difficult things an individual can face in adult life. Well-meaning friends and family members sometimes rely on mindless scripts of what to say in such situations (for example, “Oh, it was probably for the best” or “These things happen for a reason”). Too many times women hear, “Oh, you’re young; you can have another child” when they are thinking, “Did I do something wrong? Am I fit to be a mother?” My job is not to sugarcoat the pain or offer false assurances, but rather to give these women a safe space to grieve, to be silent, and to ask questions. They need support and an understanding about the process of grief.

I also work closely with moms and expectant moms—and sometimes their entire family units—on issues related to self-concept, self-esteem, and self-efficacy. For example, some women and men fear that they won’t be “good” parents or they have trouble seeing themselves in the parental role. Sometimes they’re overwhelmed by the idea of change; sometimes they’re paralyzed by unrealistic expectations of perfection or a fear of failure. I help them walk through these thoughts and encourage them to seek out reassurance and realistic expectations. For example, some expectant fathers fear that the baby will replace them in the eyes of the mother; sometimes just expressing this concern to the expectant mom in a productive way can diminish this worry.

The most enjoyable and satisfying part of my job is when women come to me early on in pregnancy, and I get to make the journey with them. Many women bring their babies in when they have their three-week and six-week postpartum checkups so that we can share in their joy. My counseling allows me to participate in the transformation to new life: a privilege that words cannot describe.