Two for the road

After a 5 month lapse (I cannot believe that it really was that long) I attended 2 births in 48 hours. One was amazing, the other frustrating though ultimately positive, both keen reminders of why I do what I do.

I am way too tired to say another word.

What I don't know

It's been really hard for me to write because it's been a really hard time for me professionally. I used to think of myself as really impartial, a doula who could happily support any woman's birth choices regardless of whether that is what I would choose. I am finding that harder and harder to do. In my years of doing this work I have maintained an 85% hire rate; most of the families I met with hired me. Lately it's been more like 50%. I don't think it's because there are so many great doulas to choose from, though that is definitely true. I think I am having a harder and harder time presenting myself as neutral. I don't think it doesn't really matter what happens in your birth as long as everyone is healthy. I know that many other things matter. I know that an empowering birth is an opportunity of a lifetime, an experience that gives a woman confidence for all of her future undertakings. I don't think that when a woman in labor enters the hospital her chances of having a normal birth are good. I know that 35% of the time the baby will be surgically removed, and if that doesn't happen, she will likely have a host of plugs and cords and devices attached to her that even if she still manages to eke out a "natural" birth, she will never really know what a normal birth is.

More and more as I try to envision what my place is in this life, I think I have to be an advocate for normal birth. I am not sure where that starts. I used to think it started with my doula clients, but now I am not so sure.

"I'll take Potpurri for $200, Alex."

A few unrelated thoughts.

Taking the advice of a good doula friend, when I got my tattoo I totally "doulad" myself through the whole thing. It was very Penny Simkin-esque. I was awash in rhythm, ritual and to whatever extent I could, rocking. It was very interesting, actually. I was tapping my foot the whole time to the beat of my breath, in two three four, out two three four. I was a big foot tapper in my births as well. When I do prenatals with my clients we always talk about reactions to stress and coping mechanisms. I guess however you are in life is how you are in birth. Or vise versa.

I need a life doula for tomorrow. I have a root canal. Childbirth, no problem. Dental work, whole different ball game.

I have met with some really amazing women lately. I always feel so honored when I get hired, so grateful to be able to share in this amazing time in a family's life.

Listen to WFUV online, Fordam U's really cool radio station.

Welcome Back, Crazy Person

The problem with taking the summer off from work is that it's really hard to get back into the swing of things. Just last night I booked two appointments at the same time because I have fallen back into my old traps of deep, debilitating disorganization. For me to stay on top of my universe I have to force myself to write everything down (not on random bank receipts and gum wrappers) so I can keep it all together. It's not natural to me, but it's necessary for survival.

Earlier today I was tagged, which I don't really understand but apparently it's blogger speak for "you must do this."

Here goes.

The Rules:

1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.

2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.

3. People who are tagged write their own blog post about their eight things and include these rules.

4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged and that they should read your blog.


Here are some things.

1. I never step on the grates on the sidewalk. Total unexplainable phobia.

2. If given the opportunity (and a dark closet) I will crush Chips Ahoy cookies atop a bowl of Cheerios and soy milk.

3. I always eat some form of chocolate at a birth. Sometimes three forms.

4. Our second daughter was almost named Beasley and I am VERY GLAD SHE WASN'T.

5. My name is spelled Randi on my birth certificate. I added the "e" on the end in 7th grade. That's odd, isn't it? Aside from my family, there are probably only 3 people in my life who knew that before now.

6. As soon as I found out I was pregnant with my second, I went to see the midwife I had with my first. During the visit she told me she was no longer catching babies. I was so crushed; I cried on and off for days. As it turns out, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was carrying so much baggage from my first labor around with me that I believe I would not have had a successful home birth if the cast of characters was the same the second time around.

7. When I was in high school I had a friend down the street who lived with her grandmother. We used to smoke cigarettes out her bedroom window. One time we dropped one, but her grandmother was downstairs so we didn't think we could go get it. We attached a wad of chewing gum to a shoe, tied many shoelaces together and successfully hoisted it up to safety.

8. Aside from my youngest sister, I have the worst sense of direction on earth.

KW, KR, EV, JH...consider yourself tagged.

My Doula, My friend?

Oh my god, I have been so out of all birth loops. When I get stressed, I get crazy. But when I turn it off, i am really off. I scheduled the latter half of June and the first half of July off so I could go on vacation (what a concept!) and visit with my brother and his family when they roll into town.

It's nice to have time off to think about the last year, the births I've seen, how I might do things differently in the future. I don't know how many women and men I interviewed with exactly this year, but I know I only did not get hired twice. Both times it was the exact same situation: immediate connection between mom and me. Similar personality, sense of humor, approach to life. Feeling that we were meant to be friends.

Women do not want to hire their best friend to be their doula. The want someone to fill the space of the person they are not, to calm them when they need calming and to rev them up when the energy feels like it is dwindling. Why would they hire someone just like themselves? It makes me think that if I sense that happening in an interview in the future, i will need to navigate the conversation to a more warm, professional place. At least I will be aware of it, I suppose.

In a move in stark opposition to natural birth and all it encompasses, I will be in Las Vegas next week, sinning up a storm:)

The Sherpa

I know a lot about a lot of things, but mountain climbing is not one of them. So when a client and her husband revealed to me that they were secretly refering to me as "the sherpa," I had no idea that it was a really great compliment! Of course, he was not saying it to be nice, he just couldn't remember the word doula:)

I can only assume (read:hope) I am not the only one who thought a sherpa was a fleece-lined coat or blanket. Then I realize it's a mountain guide, and I think, how freaking perfect! I always compare labor to running the marathon, because I have done that so I understand the challenge, both physical and mental. But I have never climbed the Himalayas, thank God, so I really didn't make the immediate connection. If you have never climbed a mountain, it'd be a great idea to have a guide to lead you through the process. Heck, it'd probably be a necessity. The sherpas help you pace yourself, drink enough water, keep you focused, remind you to keep your body in the right positions and keep your mind positive.

That is exactly what we as doulas do. We can't do the work of labor for you, but we can help make it easier and more positive. Doulas guide women (and their partners) through a challenging yet ultimately rewarding time. The best compliment I can get is not that someone feels they couldn't have done it without me, but that they wouldn't have wanted to.

The Blahs and the Aahs

I haven't written anything lately because I haven't known what to say. As much as I love what I do, overall I have been feeling pretty jaded lately. I was on the phone with my mother the other day ranting about the state of birth in our country, how it is nearly impossible to have a normal birth with all the routine interventions, but mostly in the culture of fear and weakness surrounding childbirth in the United States. When I realized I was ranting like a lunatic and that instead of listening to me she was thinking about what to make for dinner, it occurred to me that I am in desperate need of a vacation.

I define myself largely by what I do, and if I don't feel good about that, I don't feel good about me.

My clients rely on me to be a positive force. My job is to protect their birth space from all negative energy, to make them feel like they are doing the best job they can with the tools they were given and the hand they were dealt. It's hard to do that when you are feeling shitty. Luckily I scheduled myself off for the month of June so I can get a little time to reassess.

By the way, in the midst of all this funk, I saw something really beautiful last week. This mom had an ordeal of a labor that ended in surgery. She had been awake forever and was feeling pretty poor overall. But when they put that baby in her arms, it was a miracle in the making. Everything else faded away and what was left was two new people, in love at first sight, being perfect together. In all the births I have seen, this was the most immediate, instinctual, natural mothering. Her birth may not have been perfect but her connection with her baby definitely was. Welcome to your world, D.