Quid pro Quo (Part I)

I realized the other day that I have been a runner for more than 25 years now, starting with middle school track. I was never a standout, but ran, even then, for other reasons: wellness, the feeling of air moving past one's body, beginning to know one's physical limits. Also all my friends ran track.

Never a sprinter, I moved from track to cross country in high school. I didn't fare any better in the races, but the workouts were better. We practiced in the park and ran our long distances on the various unpaved or skim-shouldered roads around my small hometown.

To this day a particularly strong memory is that running in the country when the corn was at its full height on both sides of the narrow road. It crowded in and provided physical relief in a midwest landscape otherwise unbroken except for remnant forests.

One particular stretch of road had a tree that I loved for its loneliness among the corn. Some years ago I started wanting to capture its image and something of my sentiments about it. I took photographs with my small digital, but only when I happened to remember it on a trip to or from my parents' house. In short, the photos weren't great:







Last summer we were at the home of some friends. He is an amateur painter (in addition to a very useful furniture mover, as he proved this past weekend). I had a brainstorm. He could PAINT my tree. Then I would not only have it memorialized, but also have some original artwork for our house.

He was very open to the idea. Within a few weeks of my sending him the photo above, he produced this canvas, much to my delight:



We're not in the position to buy art, which meant the issue of payment had to be negotiated. I thought about barter. They are done having kids, so volunteering doula services was out of the question...what else? What else? Knitting of course!

Up next: the knitting commissioned by the artist.

What did I tell you?

The mantra, the mantra, the mantra. You gotta say it, you gotta believe it.

For this doula, the mantra is, "This will all work out."

Say it with me, 'cause you KNOW I was saying it Saturday morning when, as I did my final walk through of our new house, my client called to say she was in early labor. We'd already picked up the moving truck. Our friends were showing up in 1/2 hour to start helping with the move. But did I freak? Nah. I just said the mantra and finished the walk through.

And wouldn't you know, her partner called me just as we were finishing unloading the last items from the last truckload to say they'd like me to come over. My spouse was about to order pizza for the moving crew. All I'd miss was dinner. And bedtime. And unpacking.

Still, I had faith. "This will all work out," I said, as I changed clothes, put on fresh deodorant, brushed my teeth and jumped in the car.

When I got to my client's house, she was just deciding it was time to go to the hospital. I was only at her house 15-20 minutes before we left. She was at the hospital less than an hour when she pushed out her precious little one.

It was a great birth and she's written a great account of it that I'll see if I can share. In the meantime, I couldn't be happier that my fastest birth to date kindly happened on a day when I most appreciated it. It really all worked out.

I'd Rather Give Birth...

...than move. But as with labor, the time comes eventually. Inevitably. For me, that time is now.

Tomorrow will find doulicia loading that moving van and hauling her possessions to a new house. Don't get me wrong. I'm excited to be in the new space. I just hate moving.

Plus, my births were pretty darn easy. So it's not saying much to prefer birth to moving. If it weren't for having to keep the baby and raise it, I'd "do birth" over again in a heartbeat.

Which leads me to another insight I've developed the past few months. Realty should have its own doulas. House selling doulas. Wouldn't it be nice to have a reassuring presence by your side as you meet with your agent and learn what your house (that you paid X for) is likely to sell for in this down market (X-Y)? A house selling doula would tell you what to expect and give tips for making things go smoothly. For example, "Don't wipe down the bathroom for an open house until after the boys have peed and been banished to the yard for the remainder of the morning."

When an offer finally comes in on your house, you'd first call your doula to share the flood of emotions -- excitement, disappointment, anxiety -- before meeting with your realtor. And your house selling doula would suggest ways to stay distracted (go to a movie! take a walk!) while the inspector is going through the house and itemizing all the things you have to fix before closing.

I know I could've used someone reminding me to take deep, slow breaths, to keep focused on the end goal, to remember that thousands of people do this every day and have been for years.

Then the doula would come when we're finally in our new house and coo over it, make sure we're taking time from unpacking for self-care, and bring a meal.

Anyone?

p.s. Have I mentioned I have a client due Tuesday?!! Cosmic vibes, please encourage her baby to hang in there just a bit longer!

Spreading the Good Word

This past year our family has been host "Aunt and Uncle" to an AFS exchange student from Japan. I never knew that if you were not able to make the commitment to be a host family, you could still connect with and exchange student in the Aunt/Uncle/Cousin role. The involvement is minimal -- one interaction a month.

Our "niece" taught us how to make rice balls (onigiri). They remain a favorite with the kids. In return, I taught her to knit! Actually, she initiated it. She went to one of my son's indoor soccer games and asked what all the women were doing. We have lots of knitters among the soccer moms. I told her it was knitting and she said, "You show me knit?" BINGO!

She was a very quick student. One lesson and she was off on a garter stitch scarft. The next lesson and she was purling. Our third meeting, I escorted her to the hallowed halls of a yarn store and bought her her own needles, tapestry needle, and yarn. Showing excellent taste, she chose a divinely colored ball of Misty Alpaca.

Being talented and ambitious, she asked to make mittens. Great. Except that she couldn't read patterns, and I only saw her every month. I quickly had her knit a gauge swatch, then calculated a cast-on for her to knit a flat square. My thought was that at our next meeting we'd seam the squares up the side, leaving holes for thumbs, and pull a string through the top to tighten like a hat closure. Not perfect, but the best I could do.

We met for the last time in June. She brought her squares and I showed her how to sew a mattress stitch. She seamed the sides and I picked up stitches to start the thumbs. She took over (her first time on DPNs) one thumb, while I started the other.

She finished the mittens, I snapped a photo, and returned her to her host family an hour later than I'd planned. But she took a finished pair of mitts back to Japan with her, and a few balls of yarn to keep busy with on the plane.



Each one, teach one!

Where did the month go?

It's almost July and I've only posted once in June? Not for lack of thoughts, news, etc. Mainly time.

We just returned from a wonderful week's vacation in Michigan's Leelanau Penninsula. I knitted lots (more on that in a future post), read a satisfying amount, and enjoyed my time with the family.

I return to what promises to be a full, challenging month. If all goes as planned we close on the sale of our house and purchase of a new one this next week. Two weeks later we're scheduled to move. Just a few blocks across town, but an emptying of domicile nonetheless.

That would be challenge enough, but it just so happens I also have a client due the same week of our planned move. Who would have guessed when we listed our house in March and I accepted a client in April, that the (most welcomed) forces of relocation would pinpoint the same time frame as the labor godesses.

As always, I'm putting my faith in the "this will work out; it always does" mantra we birth tenders cling to.

Which reminds me. Two nice twin stories to pass along. The first from someone I know through work, whose twin boys arrived roughly a half hour apart in early June. They were her second and third children. They, like their sister before them, arrived vaginally, without any pain meds in their mama. Between them, they weighed over 11 1/2 pounds.

The second is from a former client who left the area about a year ago. She, like the work colleague, was young, not on fertility medication, and completely floored by the announcement of twins on the way. Hers, too, arrived vaginally in a birth she would not have wanted to go any other way.

It is reassuring to hear that hospitals are still letting multiples, at least in some situations, arrive in their own time, through the birth canal.

Professional Hazard: Friendship

Yesterday, after having lunch with a former client, and a week after having coffee with a different former client, I was reflecting on the wonderful friendships I've made through my doula work. This includes, of course, my friendship with my backup/co-doula, T$, as well as the other amazing birth professionals I've gotten to know over the years.

It also includes the growing number of mothers and families I count among my friends. When I became doula, I hoped I would occasionally get to serve as a doula for a friend. I did not anticipate that I would often become friends with someone I served as a doula. It happens.

In large part this reflects the fact that most of my clients are similar to me: college educated, mid- to late-30's, partnered, Caucasian, liberal, middle-class, etc.. I admit my practice is not as diverse as it could be, despite my sliding fee scale and willingness to work with low-income clients.

It was therefore heartening to read this news story about a doula and client who became friends despite differences in their socio-economic, marital and educational status. Their respect and inspiration runs both ways.

There is a place in all doulas that hopes for this: that we may learn from our clients and they may learn from us; that we mutually raise each other a little bit from where we were. In a profession where the hours are long, unpredictable and intense, it is a pleasant perk to meet women one enjoys being around. It is likewise satisfying to have women want your company.

Yet unspoken in the article are those boundary issues we doulas need to keep in mind. Anyone who has worked with women in crisis, transition, or just a bad situation knows the "rescues" are few and far between. It is not the doula's job to help new mothers set up housekeeping. Nor should we assume emotional responsibility for the family's welfare. The doula heart wants to make everything better. It rarely can.

The doula-client relationship is a different thing from a friendship. Sometimes the former evolves into the latter. More often -- especially in cases of need -- the former masquerades as the latter.

Fortunately for the women in the article, their friendship appears genuine and balanced. Both of them draw from it and contribute to it. Things have worked out nicely for each of them.

Part of a doula's work is maintaining self-awareness. One must recognize when the urge to help or simply spend time with another woman exceeds the doula's professional scope. When that happens, it is either time to begin closing the doula-client relationship or to embrace the newly budding friendship. Both actions, when honestly motivated, keep us invigorated and rewarded in our work.

Iaterogenic prematurity

The New York Times reports the fastest growing segment of premature babies is in the 34-37 week gestational age group. Moreover, researchers suspect unwarranted Caesarean deliveries are "causing" many of these early births.

"It is often hard to tell from medical records exactly why a Caesarean was done," reports the article. Amen.

My only client to have a scheduled C-section did so officially because of "suspected macrosomia" -- big baby. That is what is in her charts. What is NOT in her charts is that she had professional experience dealing with babies who had aspirated meconium, most of whom were post-dates, and did not want her baby born any later than her due date. When she had not started dilating by week 39, her doctor told her induction would end in a C-section anyway, "diagnosed" and scheduled her.

Fortunately none of my clients have been pushed to induce or deliver before their babies were full term. Nor have they pushed their doctors to induce or deliver early. Sadly, this does not appear to be the case for the U.S. in general.