The knowing

All of my adult life I 'wanted' to be something other than what I was, for the most part. It wasn't until about two years ago that I finally reached a point where I just wanted to be good at what I was already doing. I had realized that I did not want to be a midwife; it was too political, people were too mean, it was too much of this or not enough of that - all of which amounted to "it's too hard".

Previously I wanted to be a childbirth educator. I sort of became one. Previous to that, I wanted to become a doula and I did do that, and intermixed in my doula career I entertained becoming a midwife, postpartum doula, lactation educator, etc etc.

I felt like I was always coveting being something I wasn't, and it is a pretty common thing I see amongst my colleagues- we start with something and become hungry for more - but there's always something in the way. Lack of a supportive network, supportive partner, children too young, can't afford training, and a lot of times it just amounts to "I'm really scared to say yes to this path and so I'm allowing these obstacles to stop me for now." At least, I know that was true for me a lot of the time.

I entertained the idea of becoming a midwife because it made sense- because it was my personality, to be in charge, to engage the medical side of things, to be on the 'edge' of a culture, to put my hands on families, and to generally not have to be told what to do. I dig that. I loved the romance of it, the birth stories, and I ached sometimes to be the one to get to make the call about what a woman in labor needed or didn't. I was good about keeping my doula hat on at ALL times but my heart longed to be making those calls.

At the same time, I never thought practically about what it would actually mean to be a midwife. I didn't think about the education- it was more like an detail than a major decision. I'd pick the school that would get me through the fastest and the most affordable and I would get started! It would be so amazing! Malpractice insurance? Getting paid on time? Licensure? Peer review? Having a car that worked, missing several days a week of my family life for birth and prenatals and postpartum and lab runs and transfer sto the hospitals and..... none of that ever occurred to me. I would make all the right decisions so I never worried about having a client or baby be injured or die because of my decisions- I already knew that I would do all the right things!

 I assumed that it would all work itself out, I didnt' need to think about it. I was going to be a Midwife. Surely the universe would just allow for me to do this sacred work, no?

I went to a birth with a local midwife as a birth assistant and I thought I was ready, and was not. It was a difficult experience because I was thrown into a role I had absolutely no experience in. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to and not supposed to do - it was clear I was not the doula, but what was I? How was I to relate to the family? I didn't know how to do vitals, or assess mom or baby- I could hold a doppler to her belly but did not know how to count heart tones. I had no business being in that role at a birth and after the smooth, complication free birth was over and we had taken care of everyone and gone home, I felt a little shell shocked. Was this how we were supposed to learn- thrown off the dock and expected to swim or drown? It was after the birth and processing it, and subsequent experiences that all led up to my deciding that I wanted nothing whatsoever to do with midwifery, I was no midwife! Clearly I wasn't, I mean for one thing, the whole thing did NOT come naturally to me and I totally thought it would.

After a long journey, some of which is documented here, I no longer fantasize about becoming a midwife. I realized a long time ago that I already am a midwife. This is where the more medical folks get to check out of what I'm saying and maybe even make fun of me - and that's okay, because I know who I am. I have been providing that care that women seek from midwives with my friends, clients, family and even strangers - for years and years. The thing that women seek from their providers, which often leads them to midwives, is a sense of connection. That was something I was and am good at. I, like anyone who desires to, can learn what is necessary in order to be a safe, professional clinician- but being dialed in is not something everyone learns or is good at.

I describe my knowing that I will be catching babies like knowing when you are pregnant that you must somehow give birth to your baby. It is not a hope or a fantasy anymore. I do not fantasize at all about becoming a midwife, I am realizing as I write... it is more that I fantasize that I will pull all things toward me, with the myriad exemplary educational opportunities I have, to be the safest and most responsible midwife I can be.

Today I sat with families with one of the midwives I assist- in their homes, amongst their children. I watched the midwife touch the bellies and connect with the hearts of these mothers and address the fear and concerns of the fathers. I saw in those moments that romantic, timeless thread that ties my midwife to the midwives who came before us- riding horses to distant homes, slogging through snow or mud or up mountains or down into swamps, riding boats or motorcycles or hitching rides - and with those same hands, touching gently the bellies, soothingly cooing to the nervous mothers, reassuring the families and holding them through the whole journey.

As much as I respect the allopathic approach, I experienced it three times and am no worse for wear - there is something so precious missing. Five minutes a month is not enough to touch a family. It is not enough to forge that deep connection between provider and family where they become a unit.

Obviously this is not the be-all-end-all of care. There is so much more to it.  As I attend every birth as a birth assistant, that hypersensitive sense of observation does not wane with each client, where my intuition becomes stronger and more reliable, where when every mother begins to push her baby out my heart races in a way it never did as a doula- I know that I know diddly squat about catching babies, about being responsible for the health and welfare and LIVES of two individuals. Squat. I am humbled every time by what I do not know, and the many years that I know it will take for me to learn what I need to in order to be truly ready to take responsibility for it myself.

I also know, like I knew that my babies would come out of me somehow, that my day will come to hold my hands at life's entrance and receive the baby that emerges. It isn't a hope or a wish - it's just what is.

Back to the Middle, Conclusion

While my pal Barb posts on her blog today that she no longer feels herself a part of the Natural Birth Community (NCB), I realize that I never felt I belonged to anything at all, except when my oldest was little and I called myself an attachment parent as often as I possibly could. I only ever wanted to see women. I only ever wanted to hear their stories and be changed by them - even when I thought that the best way to do that was to change them, instead.

I spend a lot less time talking to women about birth now. I listen. I stopped caring years ago whether they had hospital births or homebirths or went unassisted or had a whole cheering squad of nurses in the room when they gave birth. What does that have to do with me?

I stopped telling myself that my births were total nightmares and that I was traumatized. This is not to say I didn't have difficult births in different ways - but at the end of the day my kids and I were here, and we're safe and happy. We're whole, and we love each other, and love the larger world. For me, birth was one day that changed my life, but it's kind of like saying that the wedding is the most important day of your life. What about every day of your marriage? Yes the wedding is important, pivotal and you will never forget- but the real work begins, the real journey begins the very next day with how you treat each other, and how you treat yourself.

I spent years earnestly believing that alternative medicine would work. I believed, when it didn't work sometimes, that I was the problem, not the treatment. I believed that using medicine prescribed by a doctor was a surrender, that I was giving up, that I wasn't willing or able to tow the line of true healing.

Today, I see how we are hurting each other. I see groups on Facebook dedicated to blaming and criticizing the other side of the argument. I see Dr. Amy's hateful vitriol still brings in the viewers and the sad thing is that I can't say I agree with her on some of the things she says publicly without worry about who I might offend.

Don't get me wrong- I didn't drag you through five posts of my story from one side to the other just to ask that we all hold hands and sing around the campfire together. I am hoping that in some way, that in sharing this story that someone else might see themselves within these words.

We are only the experts of ourselves. Just because I know what is right for me, does not mean I know what is right for you.


When we can have a discussion at that level, perhaps some forward movement? When we stop thinking we know everything, that we must defend ourselves, but truly begin to listen - perhaps homebirth can be safer everywhere, and hospital birth more satisfying. Perhaps then we can stop arguing about licensing when it is happening around us whether we're fans of it or not.  Perhaps women will desire to become more informed consumers and we will have a better network to help women process their experiences, too. We have to tell the hard stories- we are not protecting women by selling the idea that hospital birth is bad and homebirth (at any cost) is desirable and better. We are only digging ourselves into a larger hole that will someday be nearly impossible to climb out of.

Back to the Middle, Part 4

Interestingly, as a doula, I pulled more and more away from 'education', and closer to support. It was not my job to educate my clients. I hear my sister doulas heads shaking right now! ;) My clients had already chosen their provider - doc or midwife- and that was not me. It was not my job to inform them of the risks of an epidural or an induction. It was my job to help them develop their questions - if they had any. The longer I practiced as a doula, the less I needed to know. I had taken a Birthing From Within workshop (or two) and also trained with Childbirth International and between them got a great balance of addressing the mentor relationship and providing evidence based information.

Evidence based- that's a phrase we bandy about as if we know what we're talking about. I can count on two hands, maybe three,  the number of studies I've read related to childbirth in my 9 years as a doula. I can probably count on one finger the number of studies I felt I truly understood.

I'd read an article about a study and consider myself informed. If the article came to a conclusion I didn't like, why, it meant that there was some crucial data missing or that someone was uninformed about the complexities of the natural childbirth community. If the article said something I liked, I spread that thing around like wildfire. The funny thing is that both 'sides' of the birth debate do this exact same thing. Dr. Amy for example has tons of experience reading studies and the ability to discern what's being said, or not said- but dismisses Henci Goer's ability to do the same. We don't like being proven wrong, and rather than agreeing that no one is right or wrong, we just disagree on what's being said - we FIGHT.

I appreciated my BFW training because it was then I woke up to the fact that I did not want to be an encyclopedia about birth. I did not want to send my clients home with giant binders of information. I felt that my job as a doula was to lighten their load, not add to it. I learned quickly how to direct my clients questions- especially when they felt that they couldn't trust the answers their providers were offering them. I get a lot of questions about epidurals. I've made it a point to NOT know the answers. I am not an anesthesiologist, and I do not understand the data that's available, and I am not responsible for the welfare of this client. I would suggest htat if my clients had questions that they might set up a meeting to meet with an anesthesiologist ahead of time, so that if they elected to have an epidural that they would choose it knowing fully the risks and benefits. I suggested they do research on their own as well.

Meanwhile I attended a few births with my own OB - watched him let my clients push while standing, push in the bathtub, told the L&D nurses that no vaginal exams were allowed unless he came and did them himself. He spent an hour and a half with me going over my own birth plan - and while we didn't (and don't) agree about everything, he respected me. He listened, and when we both agreed to disagree, he acquiesced on things, and so did I. We found a way to communicate with each other based not in fear (that I would sue/that he would cut me open), but in respect and trust.

It's extremely rare to find an obstetrician who would take the amount of time Dr. C would take, would devote as much of his personal time that he does, and who would see his clients through to the end - which doesn't mean we didn't have 10 minute prenatal visits sometimes but that was fine in those moments. Dr. C healed a lot of the wounds that I believed I had, that I was carrying for others and that I was certainly carrying for the natural birth community - just by being himself and believing in women.

It didn't mean we agreed on everything, he still thinks women in labor shouldn't eat anything - but I'm pecking away at that. ;)

After my third child was born, I was getting pretty sick of the same old stories, same old tricks. I had been run through the Dr. Amy mill on my blog (which is now drastically different as a result) and the Trust Birth faction, I had pissed off my local birth community with innocent comments that came across poorly- I found out that when I started to tell the truth about things I was experiencing, that the birthing community stopped loving me quite so much. You're not a team player if you talk about the fact that things could be better in some ways, and a lot freaking worse in others.

During my pregnancy with her I read books about childbirth again, just to see what was being written - and I noticed a stark lack of 'truth'. The stories about homebirth were largely pretty glorious. I didn't run into homebirth stories that went south. I could turn around and point my finger and hit 10 hospital stories that left women feeling alone, abandoned, dejected or otherwise traumatized.

I started to realize that in our zeal to present out of hospital birth as a reasonable option, we were unwilling to discuss the dirty underbelly - that women and babies get injured, and sometimes die, in childbirth - whether outside the hospital or in.

I noticed that we have a term for crib death, but other than SIDS, nothing for babies who sleep with their parents. A lot of self-righteousness about how wonderful we are as Good Mothers to snuggle with our babies at night, but no compassion whatsoever for those who chose to go another way.

Now I am the mother of a teenager. A teenager! I have friends who now have older children and while my playdates of old were generally a lot of patting each other on the back for how granola we were, and a silent competition for who could be more 'off the grid', now we talk about politics, books we're reading, our marriages. Now we talk in a macro sense about raising children, rather than the minutia. We spend more time talking about how we take care of our souls as women, as human beings- how we make time for ourselves, make sure we have something to pursue as our children grow and need us less and less. It's the polar opposite of how much we could bend over backward to sacrifice more, more, more for our kids. The pendulum swings.

Back to the Middle Part 3

Fortunately I quickly noticed what was happening. My clients were (and have continued through the years to be) brilliant teachers for me. Each one opened my heart and showed me that being a Good Mother could look myriad ways. I started to quickly see that even though a client might not chosen what I was hoping she might (for my desired outcome for birth), that very different things were happening, and that she was happy about her birth! I saw too that when my desired outcome would happen that sometimes the women were wounded by that, too. How could this be?

My chosen culture had told me, and I had perpetuated the belief, that if you had an unmedicated homebirth, you'd have a powerful birth experience that would change your life. Sure, every birth is powerful, but if you could achieve that ultimate, pinnacle experience, why... you were some kind of Super Mother. Your Good Mother status could never be taken from you because you had shown the ultimate trust in your body and baby- gone to lengths not many other women had. You were kind of... the holy grail in a way.

I started to see women having blissful, ecstatic hospital births. I got really comfortable in the hospital- I knew the staff, I knew where everything was, I was generally welcomed, greeted when I walked down the hallways. My clients felt comfortable because I knew so well the terrain they did not- the hospital, the procedures and routines, and birth itself. I saw emergencies and urgencies and a staff that responded quickly and almost always, compassionately and respectfully to my clients.

Where was this butcher shop I'd been hearing about? Where was this disrespectful environment where everyone was salivating outside the labor door to cut the woman for the removal of her baby? For the most part, I wasn't seeing it. I'm not saying it was perfect, but that for the majority of births, I had no major complaints.

I joined ICAN to help with some protest rallies that were happening locally at hospitals that were banning VBAC. I found an even more angry and extreme culture. I started hearing about unassisted birth a lot more, it almost seemed commonplace. I heard words like 'sOB' and 'gutted'. I understood the wounds these women carried even if I did not have them. I started talking to women in a supportive way and getting calls from women who'd had cesareans and needed to talk through it. It was Holy work, and I loved it and still do. The women I spoke to on the phone were processing very distinct and specific experiences. It seemed the online forums were a sort of frenzy of macro-processing- we could all pick apart each other's experiences, we could judge the intentions of every provider (which was almost never good), and we could describe our birth experiences in the most violent ways possible.

While I did see several women moving through their experiences, I also saw others who fed on the anger they experienced from their births, and latched on like lampreys to the anger other women had as well. They perpetuated violence in their word choices, in their inability to keep their thoughts to themselves and their seemingly voracious appetites to be confirmed that yes, they had been hurt and yes, it was wrong. Several times I felt emotionally assaulted over what would have otherwise been small disagreements. The environment felt quite volatile to me and I worried that it was accomplishing what it was intended- a forum for women to process, share information, and heal. I asked who took responsibility when a forum of online women were giving advice to laboring mothers - even posting on an online forum for advice during their labors - and someone died? There was no answer to this question. I removed myself after the protests were over,  now grateful I had a larger vocabulary with which to define how women were experiencing their births.

Finally I had a chance to attend my very first homebirth. Without getting into details, it was not what I expected. I was left upset and angry after the birth and with an injured client - physically changed and emotionally wounded. I was eager to believe that this was an anomaly - homebirths are magical, wonderful places where miracles happen! Women step into their power while the midwife knits in the corner, believing in her with her smile and calm presence. Even though I didn't experience this, I still believed that maybe something was wrong with this particular situation, but that it was unique.

At this phase in my life I was getting care from a naturopath and pursuing a lot of alternative medicine on my own. I'd try almost anything. If my network had good experiences with it and it had a stamp of "no one wants you to know about this!" I was almost sold- and if a naturopath liked it well... it was pretty much a guarantee.

I had a naturopath who made sure to sell me at least three bottles of supplements at every visit. He showed me all of the bottles I would be buying too, if I wasn't on a budget. I felt overwhelmed with all of the supplements I was swallowing every day, and parched of the funds I was throwing at my provider to help me feel better. I believed that even though some of these treatments weren't working the way we'd hoped, that maybe the problem was me, and not the provider, or the treatment. Maybe I was doing it wrong, or thinking about it wrong, or not educated enough.

When I was early in my sexually active life, I couldn't experience orgasms with my partners. I had heard that many women do not have orgasms and I thought, "Well that sucks- I'm one of those. I'm broken in some way. Oh well." I thought that I was the problem- it never occurred to me until much later that maybe I was unskilled, and my lovers were unskilled! Maybe there was no one to fault, it was just a part of the learning process, the development of intimacy. I remember there was a celibrity once on Oprah talking about her upcoming wedding. Oprah asked her, "What are you doing to get ready to wear your dress?" The wise woman responded, "Nothing. I bought a dress that fits my body." Wow!!!

Back to the Middle Part 2

I was the definition of 'breastfeeding nazi'. I was absolutely militant in my stance that every mother who desired to be a 'good' mother, should at least try breastfeeding. Breastfeeding was my entrance card into the Good Mother Club. Without the card, you were obviously, not a good mother.

I was visiting websites like local attachment parenting sites, and the Mothering.com forums. Everything I was seeking out, and being told, affirmed my position. I was probably the most closed minded I'd ever been in my life. I remember having a fight so serious with a friend of mine, that it almost ended our many-year long friendship. My online 'friends' considered this a reasonable loss- if we can not agree about parenting (not just have tolerance, but agree!), then maybe we were not suited to be friends. My heart ached and I wasn't sure how to fix it, but I was also being backed up by my fellow militant mamas so I struggled between my heartache and my closed mind. I went along with the group I'd chosen - I was willing to sacrifice what needed sacrificing, because I had proof my way was right - I was a good mother.

A few years later we got married and decided to have another baby. I'd been hearing about this book, Taking Charge of Your Fertility by Toni Weschler - that women could know their own cycles? That we could understand our bodies better than doctors? This was right up my alley. Doctors only wanted to sell you drugs and surgeries anyway- they didn't know jack shit about a woman's body or a baby's ability to fight off disease. It was all about getting you in for those well baby check ups so they could get the money from your office visit and sell you vaccines- not because you actually needed to be checked on every year.

This distrust in the 'system' was growing. I kept finding places where I'd been told one thing, and then found out that there was an entirely new aspect that I never knew about- that would have vastly changed my relationship with whatever it was. I was willing to believe almost every conspiracy, almost every anti-establishment reason for things being the way they were. I wanted a pediatrician who not only could handle my points of view, but would be supportive as well - of our non-circumcising, non-vaccinating, extended breastfeeding, co-sleeping, gentle discipline lifestyle. I wanted someone who would be happy to see us, relieved even, to have the family who did things 'right' show up, after hours and hours of the 'sheeple' coming through for their antibiotics and questions about crib safety. We'd be the oasis.

Well, that never happened. I found a couple of pediatricians who were pretty cool but definitely didn't see things our way- and so we just stopped really going to a lot of appointments. Part of that was that I didn't feel there was much for them to offer me, but the other piece of that was that despite the fact that I was not adversarial with my providers, (I am the inherent diplomat most of the time!) - the respect was not always extended the same way. This was not helping my point of view that most providers just wanted to make that sale and didn't truly care about you as a family, or as a person.

Let's just say it out loud: I was jaded. I thought I knew the big secrets that had been withheld from me. All the websites were saying it! "Buy this product and find out the secret the medical establishment has been keeping from you!" "What do you mean you had your baby circumcised? Don't you know the pediatricians sell the foreskins to make-up companies? Of course they recommended circumcision!" I knew I was right- confirmation was everywhere.

Eventually I became a doula. In the first year of my doula practice (thankfully I didn't have many clients lol), I thought that my job was to help women understand why an unmedicated birth, and especially a homebirth, was best for them and their babies. I wasn't listening to women tell their stories, I was looking for an 'in' so I could drag them to my way of thinking. My respect for women extended only so far in that they did what I thought was best for them.  Good mothers had their babies at home, outside of the establishment. Good mothers wanted autonomy, to dip their own urine and to say NO to weight checks. Good mothers were practically midwives/pediatricians/obstetricians themselves - why did they need hospitals unless they were sick or high risk? I was guilty of doing to women, in my practice, in my friendships and on the web - what I was so pissed off was done to me by the medical community. Do it my way, or you are wrong. I know best for you, you can't choose for yourself!

Back to the middle - Part 1

I was 20 years old when I had my first child. I'd come from a seriously dysfunctional family of origin and I realized as soon as the nurse at the Health Department said, "Your test was positive," that I knew nothing good about being a mother. I knew in that same moment that I would do absolutely everything in my power to find out what that was, and throw myself into it fully. From day one, I was obsessed with finding out what I'd never been told - how to nurture a human being to become the best they could be.

I read every book the library had on pregnancy and birth. I read Dr. Spock and he warned me to chart my baby's pees and poops and feeds for the first few weeks. I remember thinking, "Is is really this complicated to be a good mom? Oh well, whatever it takes!" I felt disconnected and troubled by all of these books warning me of things I worried endlessly I'd forget, and obviously, instantly fail at mothering my own baby. Then I read Dr. Sears - he is the Ina May Gaskin of parenting - he said, "Trust your instincts. If your body says to hold your baby, then hold her. Keep your baby close, we are mammals and meant to be close to our mothers. Independence will come, just trust your heart, trust your baby, trust yourself."

Consider my hair blown back, and my heart blown open! I was so relieved to hear a message from a pediatrician no less, that I didn't have to have Excel spreadsheets of my baby's ins and outs in order to qualify for the Good Mother Club. I felt like I'd just found some secret- we could trust our babies? We could trust ourselves? I started questioning, and doubting what I'd been hearing my whole life, and what some of these books were saying now. Why was I being sold this story that I had to perform in a certain way to be a good mom- why couldn't I just BE a mom?

Not realizing I had legal options that would have allowed me to choose a different provider, I gave birth under the care of my family practice doctor in our HMO. At the time he was the Chief of Staff and my biggest memory of him was coming in, touching my belly and listening to heart tones, and then standing with his hand on the door asking, "Do you have any questions?" How could I have had questions, I was still trying to sit up and he was halfway out the door! At one point he scheduled the MSAFP test which looked for spina bifida, trisomy 18 and markers for Down's Syndrome. My consent on this test was, "We always run this test at 21 weeks (or whenever it was), it's just a blood test, do you want it?" Of course I wanted it. I was a Good Mother.

What I wasn't told was that this test has a perilously high false-positive rate. I didn't discover this until a nurse left a voice mail message at my house telling me that my baby screened positive for Down's Syndrome, and that I'd need a Level 2 ultrasound. I was shocked - terrified- I was visiting my mother at the time and I asked Randy to drive the hour and a half to come get me, I needed to be with him, and I needed to be home. I had to prepare myself for a life with a Down's baby, I had to process what this would mean for us- I'd just been told my baby had Down's Syndrome and that I'd need some higher level ultrasound - probably involving giant needles and drugs - and I was scared SHITLESS.

I called the nurse back and she was blase'. I asked what a Level 2 ultrasound was and she said, "It just looks in more detail at your baby." I wanted to know the procedure. How big was this needle they were going to poke into me? How long would I be out from what was sure to be a lot of drugs in order to get this giant camera loaded needle shoved into my belly? She didn't understand why I didn't understand what a Level 2 ultrasound was. She explained that it was just another ultrasound, like I'd had before- but the image would be more clear. Well, couldn't someone have said that from the beginning?

We went to the genetic counselor and fortunately all was well with our sweet little boy. But something had been broken in me- my trust. I went online and read all about this test and when I discovered the high rate of false positives, and read other women's stories that were exactly like mine, I was absolutely livid. I felt tricked, lied to, misled. Why didn't my doctor tell me what this test involved, and the risk of taking it? Why didn't he warn me about the false positives so that I'd be prepared in case that happened to me? I started to realize that I didn't have to just accept what I was being told and that maybe part of being a Good Mother was also being informed. I kept reading my books and going on websites for pregnant women with voracity. I wanted to know all of those secrets- I didn't want to be fooled again!

Finally I was 41 weeks and still not going into labor. I didn't know about doulas, this was a pretty new concept at the time - and I hadn't taken any childbirth classes so I sat at home while my boyfriend worked graveyards, unable to drive (because I didn't know how) waiting, and waiting for my baby to come. We had a trip to Iowa for my husband's family reunion coming up and it was getting awful close to the time I might give birth, so I asked to be induced. My doctor of course was accommodating, so we set off for our induction.

My blood pressure had been creeping up but hadn't hit any serious numbers - still in the 135-80 range. Somehow at the hospital I developed pre-eclampsia and a nurse came in and said, "You have pre-eclampsia, we have to give you magnesium sulfate so you don't have seizures." She plugged it into my IV and walked out. I was suddenly out of it, and on fire at the same time. I couldn't get comfortable and now I felt like a caged animal at the same time. My mom and aunt arrived and I asked them to leave because I just couldn't handle the distraction of being stuck in the bed, lit on fire with Pitocin contractions at the same time. I don't remember almost any of my labor.

My baby boy was born and after a brief stint of panic and disassociation on my part, we were working on breastfeeding and sent home, a family. I went home with my baby who had been inside me when I got morphine, magnesium sulfate, and an epidural. The kid was tired and nothing I did would wake him up. His latch was so much work when he would wake up that at one point at 4am (I'm now convinced that all breastfeeding emergencies happen at 4am) I put him down on the bed, crying, while Randy made a bottle and cried my soul out that my baby  hated me and that I was a failure as a mother from the start. I did not know that the drugs from my labor would affect my baby and his ability to breastfeed - I wasn't told even after he was born. I didn't know that breastfeeding would be SO hard. I had thought that with all my reading and time on bulletin boards that I'd know exactly what to do, and when I didn't, it was really earth shattering for me. The bottle crushed me, it crushed my heart- it was the first symbol that I was not going to get this mothering thing 'right'.

I got myself together and I looked at my son and I told him, "We are GOING to figure this out." I was determined. We would feed this baby however he needed to be fed but the first sensation he'd have every time he squawked was my nipple at his lips. Finally, he chose me. My heart was bursting as nursing got easier and easier, and I thought - I can't be the only person who is struggling with breastfeeding!

With the best of intentions and with my confidence up, I went online and started talking with women about breastfeeding - working through troubles, and learning a lot myself.

Birth as Prayer

In the dark the phone rings. It startles me awake and I struggle to sound like I've already been awake for a while. (Why?) My heart races as I grab my bags and race out the door.

Blessed are the police officers who will turn a blind eye to my dark gray vehicle, slinking through the night. 
Blessed are the traffic lights that will turn green just for me.

I drive quickly and my belly fills with the juicy anxiety of not knowing what will happen next. What will I find when I arrive? I pray that I will be a tree, that I will be grounded deeply to the earth and that my vision will be limitless for all possibilities. That my arms will be strong to hold this family, that my heart can carry whatever will come. I drill through neonatal resuscitation, that I will remember what to do if this baby needs my hands to help it.

Blessed are the trees, who remind me.
Blessed are the skilled teachers who prepared me for this birth.


I arrive and slow my breathing. I stand outside the temple of birth, where secret, mysterious and sacred goings-on are hidden inside like a jewel in the night. Everyone around us is unaware to what is unfolding in the steamy, pungent night. I greet the midwife, I greet the family. I set down my things and I wait to see where my energy will slip into the labyrinth.

Blessed are those in vigil, even those who are unknowing.
Blessed are the hands and heart of the midwife, the guide and guardian.
Blessed is the Baby, pushing, rolling, and knowing nothing other than total trust to navigate earthside.
Blessed is the Partner, guardian and defender.
Blessed is the Mother, Holy Vessel for life, unfurling from her.


I greet Death. Welcome, Death, please stand with us as we see this family through their death and rebirth. We, the midwife and I, sit quietly by as this couple dies in front of our eyes. We wait for their first breath of rebirth, which comes with the first breath of their baby. The Underworld is a stop in the journey of birth, one where we pray that the family will not visit long. The death of a couple, reborn into a family. The death of a maiden, reborn as a mother. The death of things that will now fall away, unneeded, deprioritized, and the birth of new priorities, new ways of communicating, new levels of love, and trust. Thank you, Death, for your guardianship, and for stepping away as we claim this family for Life.

Blessed is Death, the sister of Birth, who stands in vigil with us.


In the steamy dark, a cry cuts through us all. An exhalation passes through me while the parents lay tentative hands on their baby, hot and slick on the mother's belly. The pulse of the cord beats between mother and baby, the clock ticks while we assess that the transition has completed and that Sister Death will not be needed today. We sit back and watch the baby's eyes and mouth and hands open to explore the soft, yielding flesh of the mother, and the mouths, eyes and hearts of the parents open to greet their baby.

Blessed is the Opening.

Catching up

I don't have any illusions that I'm going to write on any sort of regular basis, but it feels good to check in now and then.

I have shifted from sort of dreaming about midwifery to actually moving toward it. It's funny how profound and how simple this journey is- I've seen so many other doulas take it and it always felt so magical, and mundane at the same time. I've known a lot of doulas who have dreamed of becoming midwives, and I have only recently fancied myself one of those with any real seriousness. I feel like I'm joining another set of ranks in between the worlds of the lesser liabilities and responsibilities, to the greater ones.

Something that I am really grateful for as I march forward is number one, the length of time I spent doing doula work before I started to pursue midwifery. I've been able to in a huge, hands on way, really explore who I believe myself to be in the birth space, letting go of attachment to outcomes, separating myself emotionally from my clients and cleaving to them in appropriate ways, having boundaries (I am still working on this, but probably always will be, right?), and so much more. It is not just a passion for women, birth and babies that brings me to midwifery, I feel like I had to really develop a strong, mature sense of self before I could start down this road.

Submitting to a woman in labor is one thing- letting go of ego, of attachments to what I want her to do, or what I want her to experience - submitting to a provider whose decisions I must not only quietly accept but then also execute, is a different level. Thankfully I'm not terribly challenged in this department - I have the good luck to be working with midwives I know well and whose protocols I feel comfortable with- but I know this will not be true always. I remember being a fired up doula who was totally ready to stand in front of a provider and say STOP! I find it funny now, it's like looking back at my own doula-childhood.

Recently I was at a birth where the mom had some complications and we had to move swiftly to support her. It wasn't anything critical but you never know until you look backward- we were a fluid team that moved easily together and I felt absolutely relaxed. I reflected later that it was because I trusted this midwife to know what to do, and that we would have what we needed to care for her until EMS arrived if we needed them (we didn't). I also realized that I trust myself too - even in those moments of HOLY SHIT WTF IS PITOCIN!? where my mind goes absolutely blank for a fraction of a second, I know what is needed, I know what to do, I have the experience at births to know what is coming down in the next two or three (or more) steps. I don't expect that I will always feel so relaxed, but right now, with the births I've attended as an assistant, I absolutely hunger for more. I also realize that part of feeling so relaxed is that I am not the provider making the calls on what must happen next, I am simply doing as I am told, for now.

It is challenging to try to sort out where, as a birth assistant, no longer 'just' a doula, now on the leading edge of midwifery with more responsibility, more at stake - to get support and process these things. I'm wishing for a community of birth assistants like I have as a doula with my colleagues, and I also am grateful it doesn't exist at the same time. It feels good to cleave to my midwife and to my one or two friends who are on the same path I am- to not have to process everything out loud/in public.

Just rambling- I feel like I forget how to write sometimes and while this may be disjointed it feels good to just write a little.

The Red Hat of Midwifery

I remember when I want to the CAPPA conference in my town many years ago and saw Linda Smith, RN talk about breastfeeding. She had her conference talk and when she couldn't resist chiming in with her own personal opinion, she'd slap a red baseball cap on her head so you knew the difference. It was charming and clarifying and it's a concept I've used many times since then.

One area that I try hard to never wear a 'red hat of opinion' on is my doula work. It's hard sometimes; I see what the client wants, and I see what she's asking for, and being objective, I see the difference in those two things. I ask lots of questions and when clients ask me, "What would you do?" with that serious look on their faces, I know that they weigh my opinion heavily, and that my response will not just be casually catalogued with the opinion of the woman who does her nails. Like it or not, I'm seen as a woman wise to the ways of birth, wise to the ways of navigating providers, and myriad other facets of what we do when having our babies. I'm going to be heard as an authority. I have to take that really seriously because it IS serious.

When she asks me this question, "What would YOU do in my situation?" I remind her that what I would do is based on my own values, my own experience. It is not necessarily what anyone else would do. Also, what I do may not be appropriate for her situation. Last, I do not have to live with her choice- she does.

Sometimes she'll continue to press me, "I know, I know, but if I was your sister, what would you say?"

I care about my clients and being human, I of course also have this urge to share my opinion that is hard to deny- but it's SO important that I do exactly that.  If she presses I tell her pretty directly - "I'm not going to tell you what I'd do. I'm here to help you figure out what YOU need to do. What do you need to know right now in order to make this decision?" I have found that shifting it back toward her turns the conversation away from me, and toward something she can actually use.

Now I'm working closely with a lovely midwife - working hard to be a great assistant and soak up everything I can learn in the meantime. I'm navigating a new world and one where (the midwife's) opinion is expected and offered to clients, alongside support, encouragement, and trust in herself. I'm finding that I have to literally take the Red Hat of Midwifery off of my head when dealing with my doula clients. Because the worlds are so very different, it is a conscious choice I have to make to go back to questioning, rather than answering (not that I'm giving any information to midwifery clients, I'm not, but I don't have to be restrained in my own mind the way I do with my doula clients.) Basically, if I'm not in the right head space, the lines get blurred VERY quickly.

I was talking to my friend about this and I wondered if this was why some doulas struggle between their desire to be midwives and their power as doulas. It takes a lot of restraint, as I'm learning things, not to want to share what I'm learning! I would be *harming* my relationships with my clients if I wasn't clear.

I can see where, when doulas are offered the chance to feel a cervix, check heart tones, etc. that it is so difficult to say no. I've been offered, even implored, to check and I've had to say no. It was VERY difficult because I desperately want to learn these things! However, I knew that no matter what I said, they'd weigh my interpretation very heavily and it was so important that I not disrupt her own knowing with what would have largely been a really inept guess. Imagine if I'd thought she was barely dilated and it turned out she wasn't, and we left too late? Or the opposite- I thought she was further along than she was, we left and found out that she wasn't nearly dilated and we'd gone in too soon, thus exposing her to increased interventions or having to choose to leave? No thanks!

As I move into 2011 I'm finding both feet firmly in the midwifery world- I'm not asking for doula client this year like I did last year - I am accepting what comes, but I am most excited about sitting at the feet of the midwives who invite me along, and holding space for these mothers as they teach me too, in their own knowing, their unfussy-ness, their tentative steps into the unknown with bare feet and round bellies.

I will say that having been so conscious about my professional boundaries, and so serious about not crossing them, has liberated me to become a doula strong in communication, intuition, and heart - things that I know will serve me brilliantly as I inch my way toward midwifery.

No longer an urge

Today is the day that my daughter was born by urgent cesarean at 35 weeks for fetal distress, three years ago. She was a teeny, tiny 4lb 7oz bundle brought to me and stuffed into my neck where I couldn't see, but only kiss her sticky cheek.

Every year around this time I think back to her birth and I find that the further I move away from all of my birth stories, the less I feel the need to relive them. There is an important healing that happens every time we tell the stories of something that changed us; we reap information and healing and integration every time the story is told.

I started to share my birth story, and I realized that I didn't really need to anymore. I don't need to write it out, I don't need to relive every terrifying moment. It was scary, and it was one of the hardest, most courageous things I've ever done. I did it, and it's done.

When I look back at the births of my sons, at the time I was very upset and even traumatized. I look back and think that I had pretty good birth experiences, all in all. A lot of my suffering was my own creation- hanging on to an outcome to the bitter end as my plans were decimated by pre-eclampsia and a baby who needed to, but was just not ready to come out. Not having the knowledge about what I was agreeing to when I asked to be induced - these were what I used to call mistakes, and now I just consider it a part of their stories. No more urge to look back and judge myself. I realize fully in my soul that I have only EVER done what I knew best in the moment to do, and that bitchy nurses and impatient doctors and doulas with bad breath were all just players in my story. They weren't what defined it unless I empower them so.

Who was *I* in those moments? How did *I* show up - for myself - for my birth - for my babies?

I don't mourn for a birth I never had. I do wish I could have gone into spontaneous labor at least once, but then I remember that my regrets are rather privileged in a world where women give birth to long dead babies with no one at their side, on hefty bags in bays of other women also laboring, in facilities lacking even basic supplies. I didn't get to go into spontaneous labor but knowing that I had a really great chance of surviving my births, that my children had a great chance at survival, that I had every tool at our disposal should it be needed, that my pre-eclampsia was caught early and not when I went into seizures giving birth - it humbles me.

I am not minimizing my births by comparing them to someone else's awful story; these are my stories and I claim them fully. I claim the Divine Mystery that tells me that no matter how well you plan, something that will surprise you is up ahead, I claim full responsibility for the choices I made, and I claim the lessons I've learned because of my births.

This is Eidie's gift to me today! Happy birthing day to us both. May her uterus never be cut and she birth in the arms of those who love her, should she decide that making babies is something she wants to do. ;)

Well rounded midwife

I was chatting with a couple of my midwife friends this morning at a birth we were at. I really enjoy and value these discussions- I am learning that I yield something completely different from talking in person with these topics than when I'm online. (Not the least of which is that I am usually easily understood and rarely ever have to explain myself or be defensive of my position, but I digress..)

Going back to a discussion I had with one of these lovely midwives about my choice for schools and how I originally thought that I'd want a school that was in alignment with my values about birth. As soon as the words left my mouth I knew they weren't what I really wanted. Why do I need to go to a school that just affirms what I already know? What I really want is to be challenged by my education. I don't want to be bored or agree with most everything. I want to have my boundaries pushed. I want to work with wide spectrums of people in different communities, countries - I plan to work hard not to develop my position but develop my sense of self in the world, my sense of community. At this moment, knowing what I know today, that feels like a healthy approach to midwifery.

A friend and I had a discussion about whether we'd take VBACs once we were practicing. Her position at the time was that you couldn't call yourself a midwife, and be pro-birth, if you didn't take VBACs and asked me if I would take them. Considering my last birth was a cesarean my own response surprised even me. I said I didn't know. I don't know who I will become through my journey. I've met more than one midwife who is in support of say, HBAC for example (homebirth after cesarean) but who has only ever experienced uterine ruptures and serious outcomes when they've attended them. They had the wisdom to know they did not need to bring their fear and concern to these births and have elected not to attend VBACs at home. It isn't anti-birth or anti- woman, it's pro-sustainability of practice, pro-sanity, and even pro-birth/woman/etc. for the midwife to know what her own boundaries are. Sounds healthy, if you ask me.

Thoughts after SQUAT Camp.

I went to a few sessions at SQUAT camp. Haven't heard of SQUAT? You should read it, and then you should email the people who write it and find out more about them. You should think hard on the topics they're raising because I know I am.

It's time to question- I have been feeling dissatisfied having the same old arguments about the same old stuff. Not to say these things aren't valid, but I just feel that for me, it's time for something bigger, and deeper.

I realized lately that many conflicts are more around semantics rather than separate issues and isn't it lovely that we have the luxury of time to argue the better way to give loving care to women? I think it is- but I also wonder how the hell we get to the next level. Where are the visionaries? I suppose we all are visionary in our own way, and some visions must be huge, and they are lifted and carried by the smaller visions- and all are equally important. I am hungry for big visions and big shifts and big work, and big love.

Today I went to a session where we talked about abortion, doulas, and midwifery. We heard from someone who has worked in an abortion clinic for a long time with a big heart and a lot of passion - the holes are many in providing women good care. It's so parallel to birth- a huge medical event, consent forms, bright lights and protocols. Gone are the days when women went to their midwife with questions about how to terminate their pregnancy - we now go straight to our friends, and then straight to the clinic.

We've lost the knowledge to manage our own fertility- talking about cervical mucus is not something you do in polite company, generally. Often times even when women were frustrated with their birth control options they weren't interested in learning fertility awareness - I suspect there is something too 'real' to having to touch your vagina every morning, examine the mucus that lives there, chart it all. We've grown so distant from our own bodies that even this basic fundamental knowledge that every person should grow up knowing is saved for 'crazy and weird' women.

I've been thinking about offering abortion doula services to women and it's something I feel strongly about. However, I admit I'm afraid to advertise this service in connection with my birth doula services. I'm afraid to be targeted, I'm afraid to lose clients. I know I will find some solution that works - but for now I need to sit in this discomfort. It's been easy to be a doula and be relatively non-political, other than the occassional stirring of the bees nest. Who doesn't need a good sting now and then to remember they're alive, right? This is much bigger- people are murdered for working in abortion clinics. I feel no reservation about working through the clinic but taking it into my own hands and advertising that I offer these services- attaching a price to it? It does scare me a bit.

It was interesting to sit with women who are holding a vision of midwifery that I thought I shared until I realized I didn't. I'm unsure where to go with it. We talked about midwives teaching women how to do their own PAP smears, how to manually extract menstruation, and how acupuncturists might have something to say about non-surgical abortion techniques. We talked about how women have to go onto the internet and piece-meal an herbal regimen together in order to achieve an abortion in the privacy of their own homes, taking risks unto themselves and not thoroughly understanding what they're doing.

How can we retain this knowledge- I think it's at a point now where it must be recreated. Our history has been burned out of us and we're working hard to retain what we can salvage from those who came before us. Political issues like scope of practice and licensure and lawsuits and legality of midwifery, oversight, and so many other things muddy our vision and I know in my case, I did not SEE what I was forgetting about being a midwife. The continuum is not just from family to life, but from life to death as well. We are the witnesses and we hold vigil, and we are the ones that are invited to be present at life's pivotal moments. We hold the stories of families from beginning to end, and to back to beginning.

I still don't know who I want to be as a midwife but I know that I do not want to stand on the shoulders of the midwives who burned before me, who were jailed before me, who lost their families, their children and their lives before me, so that I could attend families in a way that is convenient and easy for me, and compromising for them.

What does it all mean? I don't know yet.

Letter to New Doulas (Part 1)

Congratulations, you've joined an amazing Sisterhood (and in cases of the elusive and rare male doula, Sibling-hood!) There are a few things I want to tell you to help you along in your journey. Some of these things are questions I've heard frequently from new doulas and others are just bits of wisdom I want to pass along that I've learned along the way.

First, let's chat about the issue of charging money. I remember when I was a new doula, the idea of asking someone for what I thought was a significant (although reasonable) amount of money for my services gave me the trots. My very first client was a friend who insisted on paying me $300 which I really appreciated but did not feel I deserved. I tried hard to say no because I felt guilty taking her money when she was letting me be at her birth..... wait a second... did you catch that? I felt guilty for asking for money for my services because this client was doing me a favor by allowing me at her birth. Was she the one providing the service, or was I?

If we don't charge for our services, whether you get paid in cookies, yard work, web design, or greenbacks, we can set up a really funky dynamic between client and doula. I'm not saying it happens every time, what I'm speaking specifically about is new doulas who do not yet (sometimes) know their value - who are afraid to ask for what they have a right to receive - who do not trust that what they offer is worth something significant. We carry this energy into the birth space with us and sometimes the dynamic that happens is that the doula is not a trusted guide, she is a guest in the space. She brings a subservient energy to the space that is not the same as being in service to the client, it is more of a 'thankyousomuch for letting me be here I'll try not to disturb you too much' energy. Asking for money takes the 'favor' out of it, it allows for emotional distance without the distraction of the money issue hanging around in the back of our minds. We're more adventurous in our solutions and we speak up more when the energy is balanced, and who benefits? You and the family, both!

Women in birth need to feel their support system is intact, strong, and without conflict. If we are conflicted (and maybe not consciously, maybe it's purely emotional) about our role in that space, the mother will be too. She will not call on our counsel, or trust what we have to say if we do not demonstrate confidence.

(I learned a long time ago that if you say something with confidence, as if you know what you're talking about, people think you do. It's definitely a double edged sword so I charge you to only ever use this power very rarely and only for good! You know, like when someone asks you a question you can't easily answer and you're in front of a huge group of people... yeah. Don't lie, wing it, but with confidence!)

In my own experience, I've had clients hire me who needed free services. They called me when I asked them to check in after their provider appointments, kept me in the loop, sought me out when they had questions or concerns, honored our barter arrangement if there was one, wrote referrals after the birth and were generally super grateful and wonderful to work with. It felt balanced to me.

I've worked with other clients who were in situations where they were accustomed to receiving free services from others and just didn't generally value what I was giving away for free. I was one in a long line of people giving something for free. There was no accountability, the communication was sticky, my time and offering generally were just not honored. I felt more like I was giving away some kind of charity which did not feel good to me at all, and which I had to work through during our entire time working together. Fortunately this has only happened a couple of times before I figured out what was going on and pledged to myself to approach this differently.

What I learned was that I didn't want to take clients based on if and what they could pay me, I wanted to take clients based on whether or not we had a strong desire to work together, and the chemistry and excitement about each other to have a good relationship. I figure money will work itself out- when one client can't pay me, I know the next one will help pay for them both.

We honor the parents by asking them for money. What we are saying to them is that we know that they (like everyone) has something to offer - we all have gifts. We honor ourselves, too. Take into consideration that you spend this, and maybe more, to just say YES to a client:

* Gas for the consult, gas in your car at all times if she hires you
* Money on hand for child care, babysitter, day care
* Money for food for yourself during the birth, change for machines at the hospital, etc.
* Parking fees, ferry charges, toll booths
* Mileage on your car is reimbursed by the IRS now at I think .51 per mile, so imagine that is an expense of wear and tear on your car until tax time arrives and you can get 'reimbursed'
* Let's not forget your doula training expenses!
* Time off from work for you or your partner to attend the birth, allow for recovery time
* Printing of business cards
* Website hosting, design, maintenance
* Birth bag items, educational items

The list can go on from there, in even finer detail. Now look at this list and think about numbers, and we're not even talking about the reasonable hourly wage you could make putting some of this stuff together. That's a FAT sum of money. Obviously you're not paying for all of this with every client but each client helps to chip away at this larger sum. We didn't go into this work to also go into debt!

The last thing I'll say on this is that there is something Divine about being honored with reciprocal energy after you pour yourself fully out on another human being. Receiving that payment feels good- it honors you AND it honors your entire family for the gift they're giving by sacrificing time with you so that this client can have you there. Being a doula is family work- we work for families, and it takes contribution from our families in order to allow us to do it. Money coming in helps to balance the energy that you're pouring out.

So please, charge something! Being certified has absolutely nothing to do with it. No matter what your trainer said, or what you think she said, no doula organization requires you to work for free until you are certified (and if I am wrong about that please enlighten me and I will amend.) If you want to charge lower rates when you start out, great! Charge $50 if that feels good to you- push yourself on this one. You will not be in your comfort zone for a while and that's okay. The idea is to get yourself trained to ask for money and to feel good when you receive it, and especially for us women, sometimes that's something that takes time. While you're pushing yourself, be creative and offer to barter, offer clients to pay you in other currencies. I can't stress the importance of a good referral, or a letter of reference. Invaluable!

Part 2 to follow, thanks for stopping in. :)

Singing to the choir

I was in a meeting recently with some people I'm working with to start a food coop here where I live. I raised the point that we've made a grand effort to raise awareness among those folks who would be most interested in having a food co-op, but that it's time now to start pushing those boundaries and speaking to people who might not necessarily be interested in our message off the bat. Let's make it interesting, let's make it rewarding for them to get involved. It feels like a next-stage for us and I am excited to see what ideas we'll come up with around this.

I remember when I first became a doula, I had this fantasy (that quickly burned off once I started working in the 'real world' of birth) of getting a group of doctors, midwives, doulas, and nurses together to start really talking about giving the best care for women, rather than this territorial thing that happens. I think over time I learned that those in charge gain nothing by entertaining those who work against them being in charge- in other words, what would drive an obstetrician to take seriously the thoughts of professionals from other perspectives? If you don't have to change, you don't. No one is forcing anyone to look at what they're doing another way, and considering they have the market on 90% of the births, it's safe to say they're in a position of power.

I was recently reading the Midwifery Today which talked about birth as a human right, and then was looking at the photos of Ricki Lake visiting the CIMS Forum. Almost every face was female. I thought about the advocacy that I have been a part of, witnessed, supported over the years - and while I could list many women, there are only a few men whose names rise to the top.

This seems so obvious now, I almost didn't write about it, but isn't this another issue of singing to the choir? Granted, by no means have we reached critical mass! The choir isn't necessarily singing the same tune, but once we reach that place, it seems that the next phase of things is to convince not necessarily the obstetricians, but MEN in general, that birth is important, that women are important. It seems to me this issue isn't about birth at all, it's about the value this country places on women in general.

I'm tempted to call it a feminist issue but it truly is about human rights- by diminishing one gender, we diminish both. It is an issue for men as well as women - both men and women, both tiny infant boys and girls, are suffering in our current system. We are wedging babies out before they're ready, cutting open their mothers, exposing them to infection, complications and death. We are traumatizing families as whole units- not just mothers. If a mother is wounded, her marriage is wounded, her mothering is wounded.

It seems to be about women but what we're missing is that it's about men, too. We need to be singing to THAT choir.

Our culture teaches men that they are powerless in the birth space. Their women tell them where to stand and where to look and what they can and can't say, they charge their men with protecting them in the birth space with no tools to do so effectively. As a culture, we emphasize the ineptitude of men on television, broadcast for all to see, the panicking father who races through red lights and basically freaks out and is useless in the birth space. We see fathers who are disconnected from their babies, we hear constantly about men who are 'deadbeat' (disconnected?) dads and our expectations of our menfolk sink lower and lower.

Why should men care about birth as a cultural shift? We have not shown them that we believe in their importance, their value and necessity. One family at a time we make this shift where a father goes from doubting and insecure to powerful and present and protective - and then we do not use that energy to our advantage.

Can we make this culture of birth shift without fathers on our side, loud and vocal, organized even? When we get our men on board on equal footing with us, learning with us and passionate alongside us, I bet something big starts to shift. I don't think we can fight this fight without them.

The writings that aren't

It's funny how I come up with ideas of things to write about or am just hit with things I want to say, but as soon as I sit down to write I end up talking myself out of it. What's up with that?

Controversial

I talked with my husband tonight about my volunteering at Planned Parenthood to be a support person to women having abortions. He was fully supportive and it was green lights down the line. I got excited and went on their site and entered my information into their resume tool, and while in the middle of that had to stop and run down to the store. It hit me that this whole plan might have after effects I'm not even seeing yet. I had a moment's pause when I thought about talking with a potential preceptor and in an effort to share about my experience, discovering that she was fiercely pro-life and could not abide considering me as an apprentice because of my time working in an abortion clinic. I thought about how I wouldn't probably post about my experiences (of course fully honoring HIPAA) because I have friends who are pro-life and I just wouldn't want the weird discomfort of that. I see how this can have some interesting consequences that are likely to be quite uncomfortable, at least momentarily. I don't know if that's what will happen but I can't deny that I at least gave a thought to the possibility of it.

I don't know what it will be like to do this work but I feel strongly that I must do it- and I think that if the timing is right (which it feels like it is, thus far) that it will happen and I will figure out these things as I go.

Blank canvas

Whispering to me in a language I can't yet understand, taunting me.

Oh blank page.

You can go to hell. ;)

I'm out.

Well, I'm not attending the MSL. It's been building and building and I'm glad to be released from it, but really sad that I will miss the experience of learning with women I know and care a lot about. That was one of the biggest things I was looking forward to, but I know there will be other opportunities to be with them.

I am grateful that I was able to sign up for the MSL because it was the excitement about attending which led to my epiphany about being a midwife in the first place. That was a really precious moment in my life and I feel warm every time I think about that 24 hours when it was revealed to me what I will do. It all unfolded in Divine perfection. :) It's okay with me that I am not going now, that is also in perfection.

I'm on to thinking about how I will gain these skills on my own and I have some options which I'm looking into. When you don't have what you need, create it if you can! I am excited about the possibilities and looking forward to the next steps toward midwifery.

So now what? Now I am talking to a midwife friend who has offered to teach me what I would have learned at the MSL and I am talking to her about doing a 'mini' session with a couple of friends who also want to learn. Nothing huge, just a few women getting together to learn together. I can't be derailed because of the shift in course on this MSL training and I won't be, I just have to create something that will meet my needs.

I also plan to contact the local Planned Parenthood and talk to them about volunteering there on Thursdays for the women who are terminating their pregnancies to offer a supportive presence. I know this is done at other clinics but not here (that I'm aware of). I realize that I haven't been exposed to this scenario much (beyond one abortion I attended a few years ago). I know that attending with women I don't know, and what I imagine to be a pretty wide cross-section of society. The majority of my practice is of paying clients- they know their options, generally, they have a good idea of what they want. I am not contacted by women in lower income brackets very often, for example and I don't think I've ever had a client of color, or a woman for whom English was a second language, etc. I've liaised with the public health nurses to offer free services to their clients since I started working as a doula in 2002, but we (the local doulas) don't get called very often. I don't know logistically how I can make this work but I'll talk to the hubs about it and see what ideas we can come up with. I can't see asking a friend (who might be pro-life, it's not like I interview my friends about things like that) to watch my kids so I can go sit with women who are having abortions, that seems weird.

I was thinking about it and I'm not attached to attending homebirths as a midwife. I don't have visions of what it will be like as women birth their babies at home. When I think about being a midwife what I think about is bearing witness to women stepping into their fullness, where ever that is. I love homebirth, but I don't have negative feelings about hospital births. When I think about being a midwife I think about meeting with a family, not just a woman, and standing vigil while they go through their own internal and external shifts into parenthood. Being there if needed and hoping not to be. Home vs. hospital is just not a part of my vision, but what I do see is being With Family, not just With Women.

I thought about why not going into nurse midwifery because I could do both, and I just don't think I'd be able to be present for families in the way I want and feel compelled to be if I was a nurse midwife. Maybe I lack information and I probably do- I never really looked into nurse midwifery because I just have a major aversion to being a nurse, being put in a position where I had to do things I had fundamental opposition to doing. Gah. I don't know. I'd love to hear from nurses/nurse midwives on this.

Time to get back to Daphne Singingtree! It was well worth the money I paid for it (and then some), it was definitely what I was looking for in a midwifery workbook for someone like me who is just getting started. I also downloaded some anatomy apps for my iPhone which I think is pretty funny. I don't know that I'll learn much but hey, every little bit helps. I know that I need to make a serious book list! I wish there were more apps besides Contraction Master for birth folk!

Birth, Baby or Woman? (Or more than one?)

I had an epiphany today which actually helped me gain some insight into why I seem to struggle in getting my point across to some folks of late. When reading threads on Facebook what I see is a constant struggle for the preservation of the birth experience. Not necessarily that it has to go down a certain way, but in some ways, *exactly that*.

When I did my doula training (DONA) one of the exercises we did was to identify our 'priority'. We answered several questions to identify whether we were primarily invested in the baby, in the woman, or in the birth itself. For example, there is a couple right now planning to have their birth televised live on the internet. There is a really fantastic discussion (which is actually what led me to my epiphany) about what this couple is giving up and/or gaining by having their birth filmed live. Is the birth experience the most important thing? Is it the baby's experience of the birth? Or the mother's experience? (The reason we don't include Fathers in this discussion eludes me but that's a post for another time.)

Reading some of the comments I admit to feeling a little frustrated that the couple's right to choose what they wanted to do with ther own birth experience seemed to be secondary to whatever the priorities were of the people commenting- but then BING! the light went on! I come in with the perspective that the woman comes first, her rights, her wishes, come first, because as I identified almost 8 years ago when I did my training, I am pro-woman. I realized that some of these folks might have had a different result on that test, maybe they are pro-baby, or pro-birth, or maybe their pro-woman just shows up a different way than mine. Duh!

I actually wish I'd had that realization a few months ago! Oh well, it is what it is- I'm grateful to have it now, I definitely feel like I need to bring this concept more into my awareness as I continue to explore, discuss and debate with folks online about some of these seemingly simple, but more often, complex issues.

My feeling is ultimately that the couple have the right to choose for themselves what they want to experience. Would I watch the birth? No. I don't want to be a voyeur, plus, while all births are individually magical and unique, I am honestly just not terribly interested.

It's not a job, it's a calling

I hope the Trust Birth folk don't feel like I'm picking on them. It's not my intention, really, it's not. I just never felt like I could pursue these topics on Facebook without resistance and well, that just doesn't sit well with me. :)

Okay, so I've seen this said a few times and whooooooa Nellie do I have some major disagreements with it. I don't think it's a TB philosophy (altho I don't know if it is or not, but I'm guessing not) that midwifery is a calling and NOT a job.

Wow, this lands for me in a really um... holier-than-thou kind of way. Now I'm not attacking, just saying how I experience this statement. Bear with me!

Why is making money doing something we are called to do a bad thing? What if a midwife is called to be a midwife and is so successful that heck, she makes a LOT of money doing it?

I want to understand this statement better and that won't happen without some dialogue so I hope someone will jump in and give me some background about what is behind this statement and what it really means, because I'm positive that I don't fully understand it.