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Dear Jacquie,

Sam is 10 months old now, and doing really, really well. She is a very mellow, happy baby (and she sleeps through the night which makes life SO MUCH EASIER).

My birth experience has stayed close to me through everything - to be expected, I suppose, but it has become a memory that I draw on when I'm having one of those tough days (i.e. not enough sleep, Sam teething, Sam not eating her peas, all of the above in combo with PMS - I *so* didn't miss my menstrual cycle...). My memories are overwhelmingly positive, and much of that has to do with your calm presence throughout. You set the tone, you guided me to that place where I knew that my body would - and could - do what needed to be done. That strength and confidence has made all the difference, particularly during the early months when everyone around me seemed to think they knew what Sam needed better than I did; whenever I've had doubts, I've gone back to that basic trust in my body, and it has so far given me the best advice.

My trust in my intuition, and in my body's ability to take care of itself and my babe, is at the very core of my mothering. I think that your guidance through the birth helped me find that - and for that I thank you. I hope you're available when we do this again! I'm really looking forward to it. How weird is that? I must be ovulating... ;-)

I hope all is well with you and yours!

Maureen

Dawn Streetlamps

there is something beautiful
about the sight of three midwives standing outside
at dawn
under the halo of streetlamps
sifting through the night's events

a neighbour leans out of a doorway
Have they had the baby yet?
Yes!
Is it a girl?
We can't tell you!

laughter as they drive away
the tires shushing on wet roads

Full in the hand / Heavy with ripeness

For Maddox

To feel a baby's head for the first time
full in the hand
heavy with ripeness
is a sacred act

To feel the vernix slick
the fontanelles molded
the marble-hardness
the heat of it all

The sensation remains in my hands still
more than twelve hours later

Necessity made me reach down
to slow this baby's arrival
to make him come gently

I called for her to touch her baby next
and she did
but she should have been
the first
to feel her baby touch the air

a sacred first

I will guard this feeling

the baby's wisdom remaining
on my fingertips

“Full in the hand/heavy with ripeness” are two lines from a Marge Piercy poem. I have always loved these lines, and thought that they could also refer to a newborn at birth. But I had never fully experienced that connection until I held Maddox’s head in my hands. Until then... I was never moved enough to spill the remaining lines of my own onto the page. 

On the necessity of overseas travel

You'll notice, if you've read enough of my blog, that we generally take off to Europe each year. Since I mainly work solo, I am on call 24/7 for most of the year.  Even when I'm not attending births, I'm doing prenatal and postpartum visits, tea visits, and fielding calls/text/emails from clients old and new.  Even if I have a week without births, I am still on call (I promise to be in town for each client's 38-42 week window), so I can't take off on an impromptu getaway. 

So, what's my solution? I book off a 6 week block, most summers, turn my iPhone to Airplane Mode, and hide overseas with my husband (and maybe some family). It's the perfect way to recharge my batteries. Most clients hold on to their questions until I return. Some clients do send me a few non-urgent emails, but they are content to wait a few days for a response. It's all about finding balance. I try to go totally off the grid, but as a solo doula, my work can't really stop 100%.  

So, where do we go?  Scotland, England, France, Italy, Spain are the main go-to's. Most of my family still lives in the north of England (Cheshire, Derbyshire, Manchester).  My husband's family come from the north of Scotland (Berneray and the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides, as well as Laggan in the Highlands.)  We love hiking, cycling, genealogy, history, windswept moors, searching for hidden castles and standing stones. We don't go to many different places on each trip - we take it slow.

This year, it was Scotland.  Within 48 hours of arriving home, two new babies had already arrived. They were waiting for me to come home!

One bonnie boy made a dramatic entrance. I had a phone call - "Something came out of me!"  She had just gone to the bathroom, her water had broken on the toilet, and one of her baby's legs had slipped out! So, after a fast ambulance ride (I arrived at her home in Ladner at the same time as the paramedics), her baby was safely born at BC Women's hospital. It was a spontaneous vaginal footling breech - with less than 2 hours of labour from start to finish.  She hadn't even known that her baby was breech. What a night!

Then another boy arrived less than 12 hours later - almost 9 pounds of him. Another speedy delivery. I think I can now change from Greenwich Mean Time to Pacific Time.

The August 2005 trip to Scotland was the best yet! My son's band won the Juvenile World Pipe Band Championship title, Best Drum Corps, and Best Bass. Our Alex, as lead drummer, went up before 40,000 people to accept the trophy for best drum corps. What an amazing day!

And the views of Stirling from the iron age fort on top of the Dumyat in the Ochil Hills, the sheep, the castles, the ferns and heather...they will be missed.  Until next time.

Bountiful Beautiful Blissful

While you're pregnant, I hope you take some time to browse the shelves at Banyen Books. My favorite book of 2005 is "Bountiful, Beautiful, Blissful", by Gurmukh. Don't be scared off by thinking it may be too flakey - it's not, and incorporates many of the words and concepts that I use when working with pregnant and labouring women (I even sang "Row, row, row your boat" to myself during my second labour in 1987). When I read Gurmukh's book I feel as if she and I know each other intimately, and have been using each other's phrases for years. So, have a good read!

...the way some collect spoons

After the Birth

in her mind
she goes over and over the details,
how, close to the end,
she could no longer stand
the sound of her husband's breathing,
the pain
and the need to keep pushing
long after the baby was out
and the midwife gone

months later,
she still wants her husband
in bed late at night
to tell her once again what happened
but he is tired of broken sleep
and the crying babe
so she turns to other women
and collects birthing stories
the way some collect spoons

I'm home from a birth that spanned the night. Driving through the dark, I saw the husband turn left on yellow, wheels spinning ahead of me. She walked through the shushing doors and slowly lowered her body to the floor. - Are you feeling pressure? She nods. Husband with tears in eyes. Woman low moaning, rocking , swaying, hand tracing circles in the air. Ready to push so soon. In her own room now, windows open to the dark night. Birds singing at 2am. Such power. Then blocked by the power. Moving sitting, kneeling, no use, can't push, squatting, no good, standing, pushing in the chest. I shake her hips and she surrenders to the deep power and slides the baby down, body opening, and out into her arms. Dad streaming tears. Mum laughing laughing laughing... "Sophia!"