On Birth, Life, and other Mommy Musings

I am riding on cloud nine right now.

I just got back from a post-delivery visit with a family I supported in their delivery of their first daughter, who is now 6 days old and perfect in every way. I had left the birth ecstatic, confident I had done the right things to assist labor, but unsure if I had supported the family as well as they needed. I left tonight, knowing that somehow, I had done exactly what I needed to for them, physically and emotionally. I feel like I may have found my calling. 

I am a doula. 

My job is to carry knowledge, love, encouragement, and strength for parents, as they navigate a phenomenal day in their lives...the day another human joins them, one that will change them forever, one that they will shape in incredible ways. It's a collisions of space and time and souls. A moment when time stops, or at least, is completely irrelevant.  My job is to hold the space, mark the moment, help with human comfort, and let them know they are not alone. I've got their backs. 

I am a mother.

I come home, thankful for the little uplifting break, but also thankful to be returning to family: my little tornado of souls. My little men are constantly crashing into me and crashing into one another. We're knocking each other around and shaping each other into...who knows what? 

I wish I knew. We're on the edge of something, the waters are moving, but we don't know where. Nat says we are on the edge of an unpaved path, shoes still glued to the pavement, not sure what lies ahead.  It goes beyond me finding enjoyment and purpose in doula work, or Nat experiencing a creative renaissance as a freelance artist. Our little buzzing family of five, we are learning to let go, learning what it means to be a family, learning to love others and learning where we are limited. We are learning the difference between living, and just breathing. REAL life. Don't you want it?

Real life, on the unpaved path. To me, there is risk, regret, hope, peace, jubilent noise, solitude, simplicity, honing the skill of giving up, a steadiness and a willingness to be shaken, all ahead of us. Mostly, I hope I am listening. Listening, and running. Running with abandon. Not a running from, but a running to. 

This is the contact point of my life as a mother, and my life as a doula. Here is the splendid and terrifying truth: Today, I am a doula and a mother, but I do not yet know, what I am becoming. 

"Run with me, my little ones! Don't be afraid! There are many things to lose, but YOU will not be one of them!"