The phone rings at 7:30 – I am still asleep. A midwife-friend asks if I can come help a couple birth their baby. I shower, grab my bag, kiss my baby and husband, and head up the hill.

I see him first. “Alan?” I introduce myself as he applies counterpressure to the heap of a person lying in front of him. She is the beautiful Audra. Her face glistens with sweat, sticky long strands of hair cling to her cheeks. In the throes of labor, she looks Snow White-ish and other-worldly.

This work is intense. She cries out. Her own mother comes, bringing soft hands and sweet words; she did this for her daughter, and now her daughter does this for a son. As connected as they were through cord-to-organ are they now head-to-head, their noses mirrored. One face reflects pain while the other projects protection.

Alan has her now, cradled in his arms as she rocks toward him. I press, press, press on that bulging place on her back that signals a baby's passing – that upside-down triangle which starts where flesh dips and thins at the top of her warm buttocks. I smell her – the smell of life – spicey, earthy, and hot, and tinny. Alan's fingers graze mine and for a blink we connect with this woman's power. It won't be long.

Her baby emerges in a bag of egg-drop soup, wearing his cord as a scarf. The midwife gently unwinds his traveling clothes and hands him to his mother. He squints his eyes and searches, following his hands like a blood-hound on the trail. The force that expelled him caused her breasts to force out shiny beads of honey. As he suckles, mother and baby are brought back to their circle of symbiosis.

With my first child, I had no idea there was such a thing as a doula -- I had never heard the word.  With my second, we moved while I was 7 months pregnant, and I had since learned what a doula was; as I was away from home and family, I thought about finding a doula to help me through that birth, but in the end, the fear of the cost left my husband and I on our own again.  With my third child, I finally decided I deserved a doula!  As a doula, I knew I needed to put my money where my mouth was and be sure I had a doula present to help me through my labor.

And do I ever love her!

Once my contractions began and we headed for the hospital, we called two people:  My mom (who was three hours away), and my doula.  My doula, Tracey, met us soon after at the hospital.  She came ready to serve with her doula bag, her calm demeanor, and her gentle smile.  I felt instantly better as she walked into my room, like "now I can do this." 

My husband had been with me through two other labors and births -- he wasn't a newbie.  But Tracey could intuit what my needs were without even asking.  She was so good at helping me, she was almost like a fixture in the room -- the one handing me cold wash clothes to put on my hot belly, the one adjusting the bubbles in the Jacuzzi tub, the one giving the soft physical and verbal encouragement when I hadn't even realized I was struggling. 

From my husband I had love and security; from my doula I had nurturing and normalcy.  Now I know, if I ever have another baby, I absolutely will have a doula.

I attended a lovely waterbirth last week.  Mama+Daddy=Chloe.

Serra, Misha, and baby Adric

Yesterday many of my doula friends and I got to hang out at an Expo that is unique to our city (and to think, one of my LLL moms has put this expo all together!).  We hosted a doula booth, and the weather, company, and crowds were all delightful.  I hung out with Bonnie, Jarynna, Serra, Misha, Amy, and perhaps the newest doula to our community, Emily (who we all love now, thanks Emily!).  We participated in a doula panel where families were free to ask whatever questions about doulas they wanted to know.  Later, there was a homebirth-midwife panel, so we also got to see Dena and Paula.

I should have taken more pictures, but there's cute one at least.  It was such a great day.  We have fabulous women in our community who are passionate about the work they do with birthing families, and that is one awesome thing that helps make a community.   

Teri at Passion for Birth held a contest a few weeks back asking the question, "Why I Became a Childbirth Educator."  Guess what?  I was one of the winners!  As a winner, you get to select one of three prizes, Teri's Idea Box or Staying Energized, which are full of fabulous ideas for creative teaching, or her Trust Birth Poster (which I chose, as I already bought the other two when I first began teaching!).

Teri runs Passion for Birth (and keeps a very regular blog I love!).  She was my Lamaze mentor, and I actually met her a few years before I ever thought of becoming a childbirth educator at a La Leche League conference.  She presented a session on something about lunchboxes and oranges -- the basic idea was, teaching or facilitating a group in a more dynamic way, using things like small toys, objects, pictures, etc., to make ideas more graspable and practical for adult learners.  That appealed to me in the breastfeeding arena, so it was with great joy I learned (from my doula trainer!) that Teri offered this Lamaze program.

So, here is my answer to that question!

 I began my journey as a new mother, breastfeeding a little baby.  I was led to La Leche League International, and there I grew to love mothering through breastfeeding.  I joined the ranks and became an accredited LLL Leader, to help other mothers as I had been helped                 
    
Soon I realized how birth affects breastfeeding.  I took a step back and became a DONA-Certified Birth Doula.  As a doula, I began to see how what a woman knows affects birth, which in turn affects breastfeeding.  Taking another step back, I looked into childbirth education.  With a recommendation from my doula trainer, I found Passion for Birth.
    
I still love my roles as a breastfeeding counselor and a birth doula, but I am passionate about being a Lamaze-Certified Childbirth Educator.  I feel the reason I was pulled to work first with breastfeeding mothers, and then with birthing families, was only to get me where I am now:  I interact with expectant couples in an informative, exuberant way to help expand their options, ideas, and confidence in choosing the birth that best fits their unique experience. 

I had a rewarding experience today.  I ventured out, alone on a break from my family, to Costco.  I generally like to avoid Costco on Saturday afternoons, but I really needed some only-get-at-Costco things.

I paid for my things and started pushing my cart toward the door when I spotted a student in my current classes.  She excitedly approached me and enthusiastically introduced me to her mother.  Her mom said, "Oh, you are taking care of our baby, then!" as she patted her daughter's belly. 

"I hope you don't mind my husband and the funny comments he makes to me or the class!"  She was humorously apologetic.  I assured her I have no issue with her husband's joking ways.  "You know," I said, "when we look at how people learn, it is normal for some people to need to chat and laugh about what they are learning -- it shows they are absorbing and thinking about things."  I continued, "And I would always much rather have someone lauhging and joking and talking -- looking happy -- than someone who sits there with a blank look on his (or her) face.  Worse yet, a sleeper!"  We laughed.

"We are really enjoying your classes.  You make it fun and we are learning so much.  Remember how nervous I was in the first class when I asked if we were going to learn anything besides Lamaze?"  I did remember, as she and her husband walked in, she pointedly asked me, "Is this just a Lamaze class, or are we going to learn anything else besides breathing?" 

After two classes together and hearing the lovely things she said about me to her mother and me, my spirits were lifted and I felt appreciated!  Thanks, K!  You made my month!    

by Carl Sandburg

Being born is important
You who have stood at the bedposts
and seen a mother on her high harvest day,
the day of the most golden of harvest moons for her.

You who have seen the new wet child
dried behind the ears,
swaddled in soft fresh garments,
pursing its lips and sending a groping mouth
toward nipples where white milk is ready.

You who have seen this love's payday
of wild toiling and sweet agonizing.

You know being born is important.
You know that nothing else was ever so important to you.
You understand that the payday of love is so old,
So involved, so traced with circles of the moon,
So cunning with the secrets of the salts of the blood.
It must be older than the moon, older than salt. 

The beautiful picture that accompanies this poem is done by artist and mother, Cary York.  I came across her work on Etsy.com, of course.  She kindly allowed me to use her picture here in my blog.  Her lovely pictures truly envelope the spirit and heart of motherhood -- they are a joy to look upon.