I love taking walks and I love being outside as much as possible. Especially in the winter, because it is more of a challenge.

The dogs come willingly and jump straight up in the air when we say the word. W – A – L – K.  It is always beautiful and it is always the same walk that we do. (It is why the pictures look familiar!) Talk flows, ideas come and the forever gratitude.

We’ve been busy-busy. In a GOOD way. We make sure to find time, every morning, to talk, before running out the door and driving those bumpy roads into town. We come home and enjoy long, drawn-out dinners together.  We see the goodness and concentrate and focus on the beauty. And in others too. Look for the good in everyone.

You get to choose. It is a choice. Every day, every minute. Every single moment. Choose the pulchritude, the grace.   Surround yourself with it.  Always. You get to choose. When you mess up, choose it again the next moment.  I would like to be reminded of this every day. I am reminding myself here. I get to choose.

Filed under: Gratitude Tagged: choose beauty, goodness, Gratitude, happiness ]]> http://growingflowers.wordpress.com/2012/01/28/i-get-to-choose/feed/ 1 kaya10 tree 7a72c06a488011e1abb01231381b65e3_7 http://growingflowers.wordpress.com/2012/01/22/just-as-it-should-be/ http://growingflowers.wordpress.com/2012/01/22/just-as-it-should-be/#comments Mon, 23 Jan 2012 05:16:46 +0000 Growing Flowers http://growingflowers.wordpress.com/?p=3127 ]]>

Images of the day. I couldn’t stop taking photos of this sweet and quiet day. It was just Kaya and I for the most of the day and there was lots of reading going on. We lazed around on our sage and overstuffed couches. The sun streamed through, it was a perfectly rejuvenating type of day.  I dragged Kaya out for a short walk –   since a labor was going on. I couldn’t get too far away from my car.

And it was blustery.  We kind of jogged backwards against the wind, our hair whipping around. Scarves and hoods on.

Kaya pointed out that we could get our vitamin D from the sunny couches instead. And I think she is correct. Can you get vitamin D through a window pane? I hope so.

We made popcorn and potato leek soup – and we read some more. I am reading Walden by Henry David Thorough and thoroughly fascinated by the timeless observations.  I love his quiet words and endless description.

Treska came home and as it finally got dusky and dark in the house we popped into bed, all three of us – elbow to elbow. Popcorn in the middle and watched Cormac McCarthy’s “All the Pretty Horses.”

So lovely.

A dinner  of salad, salmon and red wine was ready as we crawled out of the “other world” we found ourselves inhabiting.  Perfection. A day that was just as it should be. And exactly what I needed.

I’m so glad we homeschool, because these years are going so fast. Before we know it, they will be off into the world. Independent. They are well on their way, already. Homeschooling allows so much time together. I can soak them up and we can be there for them when they  need that from us.   So…. I am grateful for these late night, exhausting, emotional conversations.

I wish I could infuse any or all of my experience directly into the tea that they drink. I love you Kaya.

So there was definitely a recent moment (maybe 10),  when I wondered why I midwife. I found myself, in between births, lying in the darkened “pink room” on the bed. I had planned on lying there and crying and feeling overwhelmed. You know – I wanted to embrace it all. But the phone rang and it was a “trying not to be frantic” postpartum mama. So I talked to her extensively instead. And by the end of the conversation, before I had any time to muster up any real tears, the door to the Birth Center opened (again) and a not so cheery hello was called!

Five hours later, the baby I caught redeemed my entire life choice. It made up for the missed evenings with the girls, the warm bed I have to leave in the middle of the night, often. It made up for the cold and dark car I drive to births in the middle of night with – shivering so intensely that I feel like I cannot even steer! It made up for the 3:00 am lull, the painful, bodily sensation of exhaustion. (The hard table on my forehead feels like the ultimate luxury.)

This work is an experience of superlatives. Each single birth.

The lack of bleeding that ensued in this birth freed me to love my calling again. My clothing was cleaned by hydrogen peroxide, my skin scrubbed with soap and water and my heart by this mama and baby.

We walked in to the High School and the first thing we said was, “Well of course our teen mom, Emily, (all names changed) could do birth no problem, she does this every single day!”

What an opportunity we had today. The biology teacher, a beautiful local woman, gave birth to two of her children with us at the Birth Center. Joan caught one, I caught one. (Years apart, of course!)  She invited us to her anatomy class to talk  about pregnancy, gestation, birth, midwifery and our Birth Center.

My initial fear  nervousness gave way to excitement at all the things we could talk about to our captive audience. Here were approximately 25 teens who were forced to listen AND even take notes on my effusive and enthusiastic ramblings about natural birth, undisturbed birth, pregnancy, conception and gosh – anything I wanted to say! Amazing. Usually I only have two teens to talk to!

My apprentice and I sat down yesterday, in between appointments in a busy clinic day to brainstorm ideas and fun activities to  make the presentation interesting and engaging. I tried to admit that not everyone loves thinking about blastocysts, cervixes and mucous plugs!  We brought tons of props: placentas attached to umbilical cords, multiple pelvises, a baby with a snap for a belly button, old-school flip charts of uteri (I love that word), fallopian tubes and fimbria!  We talked about contraception, condoms and pre-ejaculatory fluid!

I said the word vagina multiple times!

It was so fun.

We showed an amazing animation of conception to birth.

We handed out folded up slips of paper with fun facts written on it. Each kid read a fact, then wrote it up on the board. We talked about the facts…. fun ones like:

Did you know that babies born to moms who ate chocolate every day in the third trimester were happier at 6 months old?

Did you know that an egg lives for 24 hours?

Did you know that 1/3 of all babies are born with the umbilical cord around their neck? 

And this is the best. One of our teen moms who had given birth 4 weeks ago with us, came with her boyfriend and baby and shared her birth story. My heart opened so wide to see this young girl, just barely 16, hold her, chubbiest ever, baby with its already long black hair and talk about her contractions. She talked of her birth and said, “It wasn’t that hard, I just let it happen.” 

What a message.

I, personally, learned everything from Dr. Ruth. (Anyone remember her?) Every night I would get in bed with my transistor radio muffled under the covers and listen to Dr. Ruth. (And you wondered, mom, why I didn’t mind going to bed so early!) It was an incredible education.

We were asked to come back to 8th period and then again tomorrow. So Rachel and I went to get a coffee on the plaza to evaluate the class and make improvements. I got a foamy chai in my green mug and we split an almond croissant at the sunny window.  We asked the women who worked there, a yoga studio owner and teacher and a hipster singer/musician, what they wished they had learned in high school. A fun conversation with input from the various coffee-ordering customers ensued….. (If only I were brave to talk about ALL the suggestions…)

Own it! We want to tell you to own it! Own your birth, your sexual health and life! Be proud, brave and strong. Do not be ashamed of your bodies! Love yourself – feel your power. Even and especially when our culture tries to suppress you!

I am so thankful to live and work in a community that invites its Midwives to come and talk to its teens.

I sat here on this couch today watching incredible amounts of weather come in. Snow, rain, hail and of course, sun. Holy Moly is all I can say. Whew. I’m back (kinda) and so glad of it.

After two days of intensive education workshops surrounded by midwives and sheer crazy amounts of information, I was called to a homebirth. Kaya made me a sweet pasta dinner and surprised us all with a rich and delectably smooth chocolate mousse.

I drove through the night to the sweet, small and cozy home. The room was beautiful and all was quiet. My apprentice and I settled in to crochet. I am slowly working on a baby blanket. (I don’t have a baby for it yet, though!) I am using up all the colors left over from my bigger blanket made last month.

Less than an hour later,  I was slammed with waves and waves of horrendous nausea – and found myself praying to the poor client’s only toilet! This is where I will stop the details of this most violent GI flu I have ever had! I made it home after calling in Madrona to take over the birth. It definitely beat my “runner bean incident.” Hands down – a million times worse!

My husband was my heavenly angel. He took such good care of me, babied and loved me to absolute death.  Oh my god. Seriously. I am deeply in love, over and over, again and again! Lucky to be me, feel almost guilty.

And now….. I am on-call straight until March. Here we go! Calling all little babies – we are ready!!

I thought I would choose to stay home today. All day. It was the way I was feeling. I was “off-off” – special terminology for not on-call at all. Not “first-call” and not “second-call.” These days are precious too. Just as precious as the on-call days.  The girls were on the mountain and I was home.  I wanted to savor my “loneliness.” In a good sort of way. You know, with tea, projects, some writing, some purging. A good book stretched on a quiet couch.

A persistent friend convinced me to drive to Dixon for a hike. And gosh, I am so glad I did. I would have languished in my sunny room all day – satisfying too. Yet – this was perfect. Exactly what I needed. Again. These days have been perfect. Aspects of perfect. And even perfect in hard ways too. It is the only way to see it.

I spent yesterday in the pools at Ojo. Again. Great conversation with time not normally had. Relaxed time with real thoughts. An intimacy acquired without effort. I wish I could describe the great luxury that is Ojo. Natural pools, steam, fire pits with the pinon scented smoke – to live for. This smell is sustaining. We picnicked in front of a fireplace, baguette, sliced meat, cilantro, mint pesto. Crackers.  And water. Massive amounts of it to hydrate our parched selves.

And today.

(I had assumed that I would not wake in my own bed this morning. I thought I would be called to a homebirth last night. I was mentally prepared. Imagined it. It was a Wolf Moon. And this woman is not ready. She doesn’t feel ready, and often, those are the babies that come. It’s the thrill of the surprise. True trickster babies. But not one peep. Tomorrow, on my day. I’m sure of it.)

And today. Just the drive through the canyon  was worth the outing. And this friend – well when some say, “hike” they mean  - afternoon stroll. When I say hike, I mean long, long walk. Fast paced. Far. When others say hike, like today – well. It’s scaling rocks. Finding places to pull up, and step. I was out of breath. Often. I continued talking, but was very aware of my breathlessness. A tad embarrassing. Incredible views. Insane. Perfect. Again.

Popcorn with butter and salt. Green tea and good conversation. A similar background. We are east coasters – and I like to remember that part of myself. I came home with a stack of books. Can’t wait to read. So grateful for the day and the sun – for the insane landscape that I get to call home. And awe at the choice of lifestyle, I witness. Magic.

I’ve been having a burgeoning relationship with another woman who is from New Jersey. She grew up only miles from where I did. Our trajectory is leading us towards coffee. I know this, because we couldn’t stop talking next to the olive oil and salad dressings. Then we found ourselves in a deep conversation while picking out cheese. Others politely asked us to move.  She told me an entire story, one that I wanted to hear. (An important distinction in Cids as I am often privy to stories and questions)  And then we began another conversation and could not stop – even at the cashier. I was late for my next event.

I value these relationships. All of them – deeply.

Yet for some reason I just want to cry. 

I don’t know why. Part of me wonders if it has to do with not being in the same life phase as some of these women. I don’t have toddlers, I am not actively farming, I’m not, I’m not, I’m not….  I’m not.

My life, while centered around the children, is at the whimsical beck and call of birth. Birth is all consuming.

We dash off, with anticipation, joy. Hopefully I have grabbed some snacks that will take me through the night. I’ve remembered my yarn, most times. We drink tea and wait. There we chat. Some babies are born with ease others are not.

Sometimes huge medical things happen. Hard, hard births in which every ounce of my body, mind, soul, psyche and skill set is used. I am left, drained, exhausted, shaky. It takes a while to recover.   And then everything just continues as normal. We just move forward, move along. On to the next one. More joy, more pain. More babies. New families.

Now, as a midwife, my mind often is consumed by the extreme experiences and stories we witness. It’s hard to be with others sometimes. And I feel disconnected. Unable to talk. I imagine it feels, sometimes, like a war vet. Returning. Isn’t that silly?

Sometimes, not often, I long for the days when I was only a mom. I spent more time at home. I was quieter  and in my own little world. I created our world. Played legos on the floor, read tons of books, cooked, baked.  I could definitely make better conversation with others.

Being a midwife can be lonely, sometimes.

Fabulously decluttering – purging and entering this New Year as fresh as can be!

I wish I was doing even more, but the projects I have been doing, take more time than I have anticipated! And there is the skiing!

(Better to have skied than not to have skied. Good to live by.)

The less you own, the less there is to maintain. Choose wisely. Ask yourself, “Do I need this?” Simplify

and Simplify some more. It is easy to let go of things. They are just things.

I like being in an empty room. Space around me, sunlight can reach me then. It calms me.

Sleeping dogs.

Today was  jammie day! I stayed in my  (new) jammies for the entire day. The girls stayed home. We chatted on our couch – it fits three of us easily and super comfortably. We talked and bantered and laughed a bunch today.  Good talks.  Kaya made diced potatoes sautéed with green chile and onions for breakfast. (More like lunch!) The hot coffee was perfect.

I had planned on continuing the purging of yesterday. I spent yesterday organizing in the New Year. I did laundry, straightened, cleaned out cabinets, closets, and  did some more organizing. Vacuuming and mopping too. Actually, it was sunny today and I was luxuriously lazy. The house felt like it was already perfect. I know its messy secrets, but today I chose to ignore them.

Instead, I drank tea and read and finished The Help. I loved the book. I couldn’t put it down, had to read the acknowledgments and author’s note.  Finished just in time for a late dinner of Kaya’s most scrumptious BLTs.

Feeling grateful for what I have. Desperately grateful really. There is a lot of pain out there. Hard stuff. We can only live directly in the now, love our family, give to our children and hope to remain safe from it all. We are such vulnerable beings. Truly. Had a long phone conversation today. Good thoughts, uncomfortable ones too. Like, magical thinking.

If  we are kind (or at least honest), if we do the right thing. We will be unharmed. Unhurt. Create beauty. Work hard. 

But life is not like that. Things happen super fast. Shockingly fast. I think of my dad’s life every single day. It went from a morning run to a brainstem aneurysm in seconds. Not death, but his life veered off course in one minute flat.  We are not in control.

Bask in what you have. Really. What makes you happy? Think about it often.