those days of waiting...

the last few weeks of pregnancy are, for some, moments of anticipation and excitement. when the moment of birth feels delayed, this moment can be particularly difficult for mothers: not only do mothers have to sustain physically her child, and her own anticipation, but she also has to endure others' impatience too ~ the constant various nagging comments that go from "so, when are you going to pop that baby?" to the "it's only getting bigger" of impatient caregivers. just bear in mind that time-related comments are just not the best humor for mothers waiting for their child's birth.

to clarify a few of these issues, let's note that unless there is some reason to suspect that something is not going fine, there is no need to induce. babies don't grow bigger overnight, and even at 42 weeks, the weight babies put on is extra body fat: the head does not grow that much bigger over night either. and it is the head that needs to come through smoothly ~ the body fat doesn't have much impact on the delivery itself.

o, those last few days, weeks ~ how difficult to develop the patient to just wait, and be so dependent on ~ who's will? these are difficult moments, but they only prepare for motherhood in the sense that they stimulate those needed patience genes, and the awareness that sometimes, things don't go as planned.

blessings on all you mothers, out there, waiting for baby, exerting your patience...

holding in my heart

being a doula is one of the most wonderful activities there can be ~ supporting women and families in birth is truly rewarding: seeing birth become an empowering experience is the best reward there can ever be.

and then, there are moments ~ long stretch of times where the human spirit is darkened by fear. when providers impose an irrational protocol on a human being ~ trying to make her fit within statistics... when technology becomes intrusive, that's when we know we've gone too far.

at times, when mother and family agree with procedures, and they have been fully informed, i grind my teeth, breathe deeply and let it go: i can support without judgment even in disagreement. but when i feel within my soul how hurt the family feels, how opposed they are to the procedure, that's when my duty becomes the most painful thing in the world: protecting against the damages of technology, and others' [e.g doctor's] fears.

the line is thin, though. as a doula, i am here to empower the family to make their own choices, not to make choices for them. i'm here to point to the alternatives, not to impose them. the second i start managing a labor, i become a mere mirror of what i've been avoiding: another disempowering human being.

i do not want to be such.

i want to inform, support, witness, forgive, love, hold, laugh, cry, too... i want to be an ally on the powerful empowering journey that birth is... i want to trust.

o guan yin, buddha, jesus, allah, and all of our gods and goddesses ~ support me in these times of darkness. give me the strength to stand, with my higher self, and hold in love and kindness all around. give me the strength to speak the truth without fear or anger. hold me in peace and sisterhood.

best case scenario ~ a story as i remember...

there was not much pain, really, it was simply a bleeding - nothing much. and if she hadn't been six months pregnant, she wouldn't have thought much about it.

but she was.

she could have been scared like the time her sister could have died - the time she was in san christobal on new year and the civil upheaval happened; she had decided to leave the friends that she was traveling with, and a few minutes later, bullets covered the seat where she would have been sitting.

she could have been terrified, but she wasn't, really. as if she knew deep down that she was going to be all right. no, she really wasn't scared, or she hid it quite well, even to herself.

so there it was - a drive to the hospital to confirm [what ever there was to confirm], imagining the worst, and telling herself that she'd be somewhere in the middle of the worst case scenario, and that she would be all right.

if she had been studying midwifery, she could have made several diagnostics - placenta abrutio, premature labor, ... but she wasn't, and the blood that felt like a menstrual period was just that - blood.

the night stay was nothing more than a night stay, waiting for the morning ultrasound, but sleeping regardless in the crowded room with her husband and her small boy. not the best of sleep, surely, but a sleep.

the morning ultrasound, anxiety slightly rising as her bladder filled, and waiting absolutely uncomfortable, for the permission to relief the urine-filled bladder.

and waiting, again, with a playful toddler running around for the results...

time seemed to stretch, endlessly.

- "all is fine. maybe a little blood vessel due to a contraction? it looks like you have a placenta previa - we will need to check on this later in the pregnancy, to make sure that you can have a vaginal birth..."

- "what about the baby?"

- "fine. everything's fine."

everything was fine. really. the worst case scenario was rejected for a much more pleasant one. one where there was really nothing to worry about. besides insurance paperwork, which seemed nothing compared to the worst avoided.

freedom and utter joy filled her heart as she rode back home. home sweet home. once again.