Rounded out

We're packing up the house for the move, and today I came across a journal I started as a private adjunct to the journaling I was doing on this blog, about 5 years ago. It only has 3 entries in it; apparently privacy wasn't all that necessary. (?) To set the scene, I had only the two girls at the time and they were about three and one. I had recently taken my Lamaze teacher training course and was observing a Lamaze series taught by an excellent childbirth educator, but had still not attended any of the 3 births I was required to attend to complete my Lamaze certification, and I was nervous about them. I knew birth was extraordinary and powerful. I thought I was too small to hold the space for birthing women.

The entry 5 years ago today states, "I recognize that I need to carve out some time for myself and some space for me to be more than Elly and Kes's mom. That will always be the most important part, but I need to define myself as my own person separate from them, just as they will - and are - defining themselves as separate from me as they grow. Heck, it may even make me better at being their mom. I don't know what this will look like... it's going to take a lot of exploration."

Heh. I wouldn't call it exploration. More like "Hook, line, and sinker" with that very first birth. I went home and signed up for doula training. Then during birth five, I knew I had to be a midwife. I remember the exact moment the switch flipped in my brain. It didn't feel like a choice.

Looking back on this journal entry, I'm proud to have defined myself so strongly as my own person. My kids still come first and I would do anything for them, even give up midwifery, if that were what they needed. It's also a little sad to remember what I had in mind as the time and space that would be mine alone, and compare it to the dedication it takes to become, and be, a midwife. I would not have chosen something that encroaches on my life and parenting this much if it hadn't chosen me.

I've often thought about whether I would do it all the same again, knowing what I know now. It has been incredibly hard to be away from them as much as I have, especially in the past 6-7 months. I know I am a midwife, and I am so fulfilled by the work, even when it is hard, and these experiences have also made evident the benefit in waiting a few years, til one's kids are school aged. I've had moments of doubt and have begged Scott to tell me, "Am I doing the right thing? Are the kids really okay? Can I keep doing this, or do they need more consistency from me?" Every time, he says, "I've never seen you this happy. You need to do this for you. The kids are fine, and they need you to be happy." He's right - I am a happier, more complete person. I have more to give to them, even though I have less time for giving it. The time that is taken away is made up for in the laughter and connection that I've added to our lives by rounding out the person I am, and being myself. I won't deny that there have been days that I have been so sleep deprived that they've watched too much TV or I haven't had the patience with them that I would have had on a full night's sleep, but in general, I am indeed a much better mother than I was when I wrote this entry five years ago.

I feel not only proud, but grateful to have happened upon birth work, and grateful at how smooth my path has been. I've had excellent midwives as teachers, and I've had the opportunity to not only witness the beauty of birth at countless "butter" births, but to learn from many challenging births. I can see myself not only as strong enough to support women in the portal, but steady enough to have clarity in times of crisis, and act. As I near the end of my official training period (one never stops learning), it's affirming to stand back and see that I am stepping into a part of myself that was waiting, to see that I am who I thought I could be. This journal entry from five years ago was more evidence of all the work I've done. I feel fortunate.