Dear younger me...

Dear Younger Me, 

Life will lead you on paths you could never ever imagine. God has a sense of humor and a plan bigger then yours. 

Those babies you love will grow up, but your arms will never be empty. 

You will hold and rock babies across the globe. 

Some You will watch grow, get married, have babies of their own 

some you will hold for only a moment, but believe me that moment matters 

You'll never believe this! you will witness many babies take their first breaths, you will be the one to find tiny heartbeats, your hands will be the first to touch. 

Don't take things so seriously, laugh, be silly, 

Be creative and adventurous 

Dance, even on those clumsy feet. 

Some days you will win, some you will lose 

Be brave! 

Be proud! 

Those days you played teacher taught you how to be a leader. You will want to follow, but occasionally take a leadership role, it's good for you. I promise. 

Never ever ever stop singing! You will lead worship, sing in a band, sing in the car...

You will play many roles, some for fun (high school musicals!), some out of necessity, you can do hard and beautiful things. 

Practice your nap taking skills, you will need them

You will always be allergic to hay, don't let it stop you from being at the barn.

Always keep that sweet 4th grader inside you. She's smart and kind and strong. 

Your adventure is just beginning. 

Love, 

Older you. 

Poem -life

It's not for the faint of heart.
      It's a dance
It's a struggle
       It's a gift
It's a box of chocolates
          You never know
          What you'll get
From first breath
To stillness of heart
       Adventures await
Danger
If you dare
    To go into the unknown
Walk on the water
Drowning is not an option
Grace goes with
After all this time?
       "Always"

Things changed....

I remember what it used to look like. Jumping into a solid team, Bring nervous that I would screw up, or get "fired", being excited, camping out, Carpooling, The pure bliss of being naive. Starry eyed, hopeful, blessed. 

Then things changed 

I remember it being two of us, organizing things so I was able to quickly respond and read the cues I worked so hard to learn, charting and watching, willing my mind to learn so my hands could one day follow suit. Holding tightly to the robes and following close enough to be covered in the dust. 

Then things changed

I remember when we became 3. Trying to show the ropes to someone while making sure things got done, learning to share, sometimes being freed up from the chart to catch and sometimes watching the 2 of them work together, handing them what was needed, smiling, watching growth. I remember becoming a team, finding our grove. 

Then things changed

I remember trying to soak up whatever I could, knowing time was limited, bring brave as a team and doing hard things to prove we could do it instead of relaying on someone to rescue us, I remember looking up and seeing the pride in my mentors face seeing us work. I remember wondering how someone could trust me this much and although I had the skills, I doubted if I had the faith in myself to do it without her. 

Then things changed

I remember the fear. I remember tears and holding back. I remember not having a choice. I remember those who wrapped their arms and spoke words of light into the darkness. I chose not to remember the darkness spilled into it by others. I remember tough love and putting one foot in front of the other. I remembered to breathe and feel my feet on the floor all, over again

Then things changed

I remember grace, I remember butter births and laughter and finding our groove, discovering we were not only surviving, but thriving. I remember feeling proud, and overwhelmed with all at had occurred.

Then things changed

I remember transitions being hard, having to be reminded that one can love more then one thing at the same time, I remember happiness, and relief. And realizing that this change wasn't going to be as I expected, and nothing stays the same. Accepting responsibility and finally believing that I knew what I was doing. 

And things will change

Over and over and over again.

I will grow, I will become a teacher, I will serve and give up control, (because none of us have any control over anything anyways.) I will have fun! I will not be exhausting but will communicate clearly. 

I will learn to be comfortable in the unknowns. I will trust in the bigger plan and know that everything will work out. Because what God has ordained, he has always seen through. 

By his grace alone is this unworthy mess worthy of this incredible never ending always changing adventure. 

Sick

There is a time when you have to take charge of a situation. Use your "midwife voice", be clear. 

There are times you stand down, watching, waiting, quiet, ready if needed. 

There are times you work nonstop for days. 

There are times you are trapped at home for a week straight with the flu.

There are beautiful days and ugly days,

There are short days and long days 

There are sunny days and days when your car slides sideways down icy hills.

Through it all there is bubble baths and soup and friends and alone time, with the knowing that when the storm passes there will likely be wine. 

Transition

Because of my line of work, I often compare life to the world I'm immersed in, midwifery.  So bare with me. 

I feel like I've spent the past year in endless transition. Rapid changes, the unknown, Contractions close together, piggybacking, intense, puking, trapped. I've seen that look in many of the mama's faces. They are no longer in their minds, their bodies have taken over. One foot in front of the other, wake up, go through the motions, keep the plates spinning, don't let them break. 

Im living in this juxtaposition though, because although transition is hard, I see such magic in it, transition means a baby will come soon. My mamas are strong, brave, have such Primal beauty. (Yes, because although it is hard there is such beauty). It's that beauty that throws me off. 

This year was hard. Really really hard. I'm looking for the beauty. Because I know at the end of all this it's time to push. 

Thankful

I am thankful for those who are serving and are unable to join their loved ones for thanksgiving, I am thankful for the kitchen staff on ships and bases who are working to provide a home-like meal, I am thankful that for many their sailors and soldiers are home today. This is something that I didn't really think about or understand until this year.

I am thankful for family, silly sisters and cousins and loving parents and sweet baby Ben we all get to love.

I am thankful for friends who are family, my middle of the night people, my I-need-wine-people, my pedicures and soup people, adventures, and hugs.

I am thankful for the blessing to be able to do a job I love, for clients who trust and invite me into their lives for nine short months. For babies that cry when they are born and the breath to share with them when they don't.

Im thankful for repeat clients and their precious families,  for big sisters who also want a turn getting their belly measured and like to help find baby's heartbeat.  I'm thankful For babies who I've caught who run to me snd give me snuggles. Such sweetness!

I'm thankful for cozy beds and homes shared by others with me. For music that I can sing loud, for ponies, and paint, and good books.

I'm thankful for grace Abundant, undeserved mercy, and unending love.

Happy thanksgiving everyone.

I want you to know...

I want you to know that your midwife cries for you, hurts with you, and although she doesn't Know the magnitude of your pain, she worries, she stays up late in the night, she holds your head and prays you though each contraction. 

I want you to know that your midwife loves to tell you to see if you can feel your baby's head, and smiles when you do, knowing you'll always remember you touched him first. 

I want you to know your midwife steps back, becomes silent, and basks in the moment as your baby takes it's first breath and cries loudly in the night. 

I want you to know that your midwife thinks about you while she's having her breakfast, wondering if you are getting enough protein. She thinks about you when she's running up The Hill, or doing burpees, or push ups in bootcamp and wants to quit, but because she remembers that you just pushed out a nearly 10lb baby after a 24 hr labor, she charges up that hill one more time. 

I want you to know your midwife loves receiving Christmas cards and texts with pictures of your beautiful family. 

I want you to know your midwife rejoices with you when the ultrasound says it's a boy! It's a girl! It's twins! And when the ultrasound comes up empty and the bleeding starts, she wonders how she will ever say the right words. 

I want you to know when your baby flips, or your labor is long, or heart tones become non-reassuring and it's time to transport, your midwife puts on her brave face and tries to pave the way for a smooth transition of care, so that you can be treated with respect. 

I want you to know your midwife will stand by you, even under the judging eyes of hospital staff and her own peers. 

I want you to know When it takes your midwife a minute too long to find your baby's heartbeat, she feels a lump in her throat, and when she finally finds it, hears angels sing. 

I want you to know that when the doctor tells you your baby is gone, your midwife holds herself together, and tells you how beautiful and precious your baby is as he/she is laid in your arms one last time, then she goes home, crumples to the floor, and weeps. 

When your baby is slow to transition, and the piercing cry that a baby makes that we are accustomed to hearing on a tv show doesn't come, and seconds seem like hours, she holds her own breath until baby gasps with stimulation. When your baby is even slower to transition she gives her own breath to inflate tiny lungs, feels her feet on the floor and counts a steady rhythm. 

When Your midwife wakes up randomly in the middle of the night, she frantically checks her phone, sees she didn't miss a call and wonders if she woke because across town you are awake wondering, worrying, wishing. 

I want you to know, your midwife questions "why" when these things happen, thinks about quitting, and in the same exact breath, knows she never could. Because the next day another baby will be born, another mama will be made, and grace and mercy will meet, when heaven once again, kisses earth. 

Full

How was your weekend? Mine was full. Hard. Long. Beautiful. Full. 

I'll never understand it and I'm figuring out that I don't have to. 

 

I get to witness how strong we truly are in our weakness as a mama goes through a long labor that seems never ending, says she wants to be done, to run away from the sensations in her body, but never quits. Her baby takes her first breath on her chest. The whole room tears up. I am overwhelmed with the moment unfolding in front of me. 

I have to make hard calls and I sometimes have to be the one who says "I'm so sorry" at an early ultrasound, and when the bleeding begins my heart hurts. Each baby matters, even the very, very small. 

I have collegues and friends who work together, who love, who support, who get it. I am surrounded by powerful love. We all are. The world is full of grace and mercy.

"...show me, how big your brave is..."

Today, while I was unloading the kayak from the car a woman who was sitting in her car struck up a conversation and then said to me "I wish I was brave enough to do that like you" I smiled, and told her "I wish I would have brought the other kayak so she could join me." 

As I put the kayak into the water I thought to myself, "lady, if you only knew... 

Brave is getting in a kayak, getting in the saddle, running up a big hill. Brave is a 10K in a blizzard. Brave is quitting your reliable paycheck job. Brave is catching babies and supporting mothers and families as they grow. Brave is making phone calls. Brave is being honest. Brave is loving someone even though they will leave. Brave is loving yourself enough to say "no". Brave is saying "yes!" Brave is making decisions that change the course of your life. Brave is holding someone as they take their last breath or their very first. Brave is breathing for someone when they can't. Brave is trusting your team, your heart, your mind. Brave is driving with no destination in mind. Brave is dancing. Brave is taking a chance on love. Brave is letting go if love isn't there. Brave is a motorcycle ride, Brave is going to the dentist. Brave is letting go of that which steals your joy. Brave is  dropping off a future sailor. Brave is saying goodbye to a big black dog. Brave is changing a flat tire. Brave is being the biggest girl at bootcamp...

Yes, random lady at the park, how I wish I could have taken you out on the river, so you could find a piece of brave, in a simple kayak, on a tiny river. 

What does a midwife do?

A midwife cooks scrambled eggs

Dances and sways 

Puts cold cloths on your head

Fixes your ponytail 

Snuggles in bed

Tells you:

 "you are strong"

"You are brave"

"You are listening to your body"

Puts water and honey to your lips 

Says drink

Converses with you on the toilet between contractions 

Silently holds the space

Naps on your couch, your floor, your toddler bed 

Holds your hand

Holds your puke bucket 

Doesn't flinch about body fluids 

Supports your decision to transfer 

Goes to ultrasounds and holds your hand when the news is devistating 

Wraps you in warm blankets and love 

Gently guides your baby into your arms 

Steps back as baby takes it's first breath 

Smiles 

Is grateful for the opportunity to serve 

To witness 

 A midwife eats dinner in the bathtub then falls into bed

Waiting for the phone to ring again 

Grace

As much as last year's theme was "Brave" this year the key word is 

GRACE

Grace for myself

Grace for those who love me

Grace for those who speak before they know 

Grace for my colleagues 

Grace for those who will never understand

Grace for those who hurt

Grace for those who are hurting

Running a practice is not for the faint of heart.

But it's worth it, 

every day, 

every mama, 

every baby. 

Circles...

Sometimes 

I get stuck 

in my thoughts,

they circle around 

and tell me I'm no good. 

Around 

And 

Around 

A

Round

STOP! 

And I remember 

To count my blessings: 

A Soccer game huddled under blankets

Hot tea 

Comedians on tv 

Full homes 

Silly boys 

Ponies 

A@@ kicking workouts that make me feel strong 

Mini trips "up north" to check on babies and mamas 

Bright eyed smiling Amish babies 

Sister time

A not so slimy but still frozen pool

Sunshine 

Notes left in the counter 

Serving others 

Singing loud 

Couch naps 

The weight of a newborn sleeping on my chest 

A friend's successes as an author 

Letters from bootcamp 

A day off

A job that I love 

Dinner with my mama 

Hour long phone call with a friend 

Words 

Love says STOP! 

And Grace 

Grabs 

Tight 

Shouts 

Shakes 

Whispers 

And I am once again in awe of how, even though I don't deserve it, Grace is everywhere. 

And maybe... 

Just maybe 

I should show myself a portion of the grace I give to others. 

Let the adventure begin...

The first midwifery supply most student/apprentices purchase is a watch with a second hand. Why? Because one of the first skills you learn is counting out fetal heart tones. Eventually you learn what normal sounds like and can pretty accurately determine what the heart rate is without counting, but even seasoned midwives pull out the watch when they detect a variation from normal. I held back tears tonight when I opened a gift from "the boss" and saw: 

It's a familiar tool; the comforting ticking in the darkness, the reassuring overlapping rhythmic thump-thump beating heart of a baby soon to be born. 

As I begin my first year as primary midwife under-supervision I will do so surrounded by mama and baby duos who will teach me many things, new and old preceptors and colleagues who will share their wisdom and serve along side me, the voice of "the boss" echoing in my ears, and with the weight of a familiar tool in my pocket grounding me. 

I'm ready for this adventure. 

Majestic Tour

Yesterday I worked as a runner for a Kari Jobe concert. It was a really interesting day. Doing laundry and airport runs and pizza delivery, oh my! It was amazing to see all the behind the scenes work that goes into a show and lots of fun to have an all access pass. I met so many interesting people!  I told a friend I had never been more excited to go to Meijer when they sent me to buy face wash :) 

I got to spend some significant time with Warren Barfield when I drove him to retrieve a car. He's a really great guy. (Let's not talk about the fact that I didn't know who he was until later lol) 

I also found myself driving one of the bus drivers (who was hysterical!) his girlfriend just got back from touring Europe with Beyoncé. What an interesting life these guys live! 

During the concert Kari did her new song "I am not alone". loved it! She introduced it by sharing the story of her friend's baby who was born too soon and lived 40minutes. This midwife heart of mine connected instantly, then she said the song was based on a scripture from Isaiah... When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, when you go through the fire you will not be consumed" Isaiah 43:2. 

I wear it on my wrist, an anchor to remind me. I named my buisness in reference to that verse... Hit to the feels lol. I was supposed to be guarding a door but I found myself squatting down against the wall with tears flowing. 

God's grace is abundant. 

(Thanks for the use of the midwife mobile Wendy!) 

Celebrate....

March 4th... It does get easier. "They" are right about that whomever "they" are. But snowy March and a chilly fall day in September are still hard. My arms feel empty, my heart breaks all over again, my mind wonders; 

Who is she today? 

Is she safe?

Is she happy? 

Does her mama know what a gift she is? 

I remember the weight of her tiny body on my chest, her newborn baby smell, the breeze blowing through the soft dark hair on her head. 

I mourn

I cry

I bake cake 

I light candles and sing "happy birthday"

I celebrate 

You see this mama heart not only aches for the daughter that God gave me to hold for a short time and know for 6 months and love for a lifetime. It celebrates;

I'll light the candles in honor of a 4 year old who stole my heart, who was named and loved. 

I'll also celebrate 

The gift of prayers answered in ways that seemed opposite of what I wanted, but are exactly the answers I needed. 

The gift of babies to love for a short time or for their whole lives. 

The gift of foster babies reunited with their mamas

The gift of the laughter of waiting children in orphanages 

The gift of tiny babies in the womb whom never took a breath on earth

The gift of wombs full of life and wombs that are empty

The gift of babies born at home in water and those born in hospital rooms, the very definition of what strong is. 

The gift of babies that pass through my hands into their mothers arms 

The gift of an 11year old who were not supposed to be able to walk or live to be 5, riding her first bike. 

The gift of a strong little boy who beats the odds every day with each beat of his super heart. 

The gift of big grinned boy born on the day of peace, that is the definition of living fully into the beauty of bittersweet. 

This year as the wax drips and melts the frosting-purple this year because she is 4. I celebrate the gift of motherhood. I honor those who have mothered me and those whom God has given me to mother, if only for a moment. Because it matters.

"the word mother is more powerful when used as a verb than as a noun. All woman are not mothers, but all women are called to mother. To mother is to nurture, to train, to educate, to rear. As daughters of Eve all women are uniquely gifted to help others in their lives become more of who they truly are -- to encourage, nurture, and mothers them toward who they truly are" -Stasi Eldredge, Captivating. 

Happy Birthday Isabella Esperanza Maria! 

Whose name means "God is my oath and hope in this sea of bitterness" 

(Type Isabella in the search box to read more about her story)

On finding my midwife voice

50 days. I love my job, there is nothing like it. Cords and molding, water, sweat, tears, cries and pouty lips, heaviness, being forever connected by the holy moment when heaven kisses earth. Still and calm, loud and strong. Brave and beauty. Life doesn't look like I imagined it but I am still so overwhelmingly blessed. 

February update

It's probably not a good thing but I'm practically vomit in my mouth shaky nervous for a few of my midwifery colleagues who are taking the NARM exam this week. I'm nervous for them... I know how important dreams are. 

As for an update on me, honestly I'm struggling. Life is gonna be different in 56 days, so many things are up in the air, and it's almost March. It feels like I'm treading water, kicking hard to stay afloat and sometimes going under for a moment too long, lungs burning and then having to take a giant stinging breath, not knowing when I'll surface again. 

I'm learning a lot, I'm excited and have so much happy in my life but there is fear and grief too. So many big feelings that I feel like a toddler trying to work it out. Im learning to trust and to discern and to love and be loved. 

I'm holding on and I'll keep kicking my feet for as long as I can. 

Camping

I've always wanted to go camping. Real camping. In a tent. On the ground. I pictured a serene location with trees or maybe a tent pitched on the sand, where the waves could lull me to sleep. This past week I got excited for a potential "camping trip" in a tent, a city of tents. I Dreamt  about being In the heat, with the familiar rooster calls through the night, tricycle sputters and jeepney horns. The cry of new life.  I didn't realize how much I wanted to go until I was faced with grieving the loss of the opportunity. I'm standing on the promises that things work out how they are supposed to but it's still a bitter disappointment. 

Psalm 121

In bible study we are encouraged to rewrite each psalm we cover in Stepping Up, by Beth Moore. It reminds me of the Touched By an Angel Episode: the 151st Psalm. 

Psalm 121

Even when my heart breaks, fear overwhelms me, and the sidewalk I run is slick with ice and snow. I look to you-- you hold me, cover me, and are the yak traxs on my feet. 

When babies flip and navel chiefs call and my world turns upside-down; you place wisdom in my mind, laughter in my heart and open my eyes to how much love I'm surrounded by. 

You make me brave. 

We stay up late together and you sing me to sleep. I know you keep guard through the darkness of night. 

You know where I am, you know where I'm going (it's better then I can begin to imagine!) and you are there now and forevermore. 

Amen 

Happy place...

The shores of Lake Michigan, the copper-bottomed clear water of Presque Isle, the porch swing of a children's home in Guatemala. Being surrounded by the concrete walls of a church in the Philippines, the holy moment as a baby emerges and takes it's first breath, the sacred space of the head squeeze, wrapped in the love of a friend's hug, trust. Walking into the unknown with head held high. Bravery of others trickling down. The dusty earth caking my riding boots, the wind. A chapel surrounded by a stained glass cloud of witnesses. Miracle babies. 

Words spoken and written, giant bathtubs filled to the brim with bubbles, the sweet smell of a sweaty baby head laying on my chest, wrapped in soft colors. laughter, dancing with abandon, the rare runner's high, Tires. Slurpees on a hot summer's day, tears, prayer-answered, unanswered, and unspoken, a church organ, the drum beat, naps in the sunshine, warm rains. Singing loud. The weight of mercy. The depth of grace.