Ten years since that first birth...you are invited to my party.

Evening is settling into the neighborhood.  Families are finishing their outside chores and gathering around the kitchen table to share a meal.  I sit at the stop sign exiting my cul-de-sac.  My daughter is sitting beside me.  She’s layered in a light pink hooded sweatshirt with her orange softball team t-shirt on top, her mit rests in her lap. We wait for the oncoming buggy to pass before I pull out.  A large gloved hand lets loose of the reigns and gives me an energetic wave.  His wife quickly peeks out of the side window, a 4x6 inch opening.  I can see her young eyes behind petite glasses and pointy nose.  She recognizes me and leans past the 7 month little boy sitting on her lap with a big grin and wave. 

“Another couple from your class?” my daughter sighs with slow exasperation.  “Yup” I say while returning the buggy greetings.  I glance over at my daughter, whose game I will miss tonight.  “They really like you mom, you must do a good job.” She comments.  In that moment I am reminded all at once, the price I pay each time I leave to do birth work and the gain in each new couple I connect with.  The cost and the reward.

Tomorrow is my ten year anniversary from that first life altering birth I attended as a doula,  May 7, 2004. Every year I pause to remember.  Writing it now it seems unreal.  Ten years.  I kept count for a while of all the births I attended.  By year three I’d lost track exactly.  If I had to guess now I’d say its anywhere from 150-200 births I’ve attended as a doula or midwife’s assistant.  I have only been teaching for three years, but I am closing in on 200 couples in my classes. 

This trophy is a treasured gift from a family that
 I was able to doula through both of their daughter's births.  

Last night as I waited for the caffeine and teaching induced adrenalin to drain from my body. I imagined- what would it be like if I could gather all these families together for one big party?  What would that look like?  Where are they all today? Do they remember me?  I decided there would be three distinct groups of people in attendance. 

*Disclaimer these are generalizations and not every family fits just perfectly into my categories*

The First Year Families: 

These are families I met through my work with Maple City Health Care Center, a low income health clinic in Goshen.  The clinic gave me as much doula work and I could stand those first few years of my career.  The families were Spanish speaking Mexican immigrants, living in a new place and far from their family support system.  It was such an honor to usher them through their births, buffering them from the healthcare system, comforting them when their mama or sister could not.  All these babies are now grade school students, ranging from third grade to Kindergarten.  I bump into these families at community soccer games, the county fair, chess meets and shopping at the mall.

Usually the mother and I exchange some shy glances trying to figure out “Is that who I think it is?”.  I am the first to make the move, to introduce myself again, sometimes I remember their names or the name of their child, but not always.  Recognition flashes in their eyes and a warm smile spreads across their face.  We are quickly reminiscing; she calls over her child and introduces them.  The timid and irritated child not fully understanding what the big deal is all about, flashes me a smile and “hey” and is back to the activity at hand.

The Mainstreamers:

This group of families is sprinkled through the years of my work. As much as I love working with people in other cultures, it is enjoyable to be with families “like me” as well.  Living in and around Goshen, alumni of the same school, enjoying comfortable midwest lives I feel an ease with them.  They drive family vehicles shuttling their kids to sports, the park, and school; balancing work and home life.  These families have means, strong partnerships and resources.  They are self-empowered, informed consumers of birth.  Working with these families allows me to utilize a different skill set.  During the labor and birth I work to honor their specific birth plan.  Partners are more informed about the process and participate intentionally in it. This informed and intentional aspect draws deeper meaning to the victory of the birth and welcoming of a new life.  Doula babies born to these families pop up in my Facebook feed- growing up before my eyes.    

The Amish:

If the Amish families I work with came to my imaginary party, they fill the parking lot with their family size “minivan” model buggies.  There would be several van loads dropping off the couples from the same neighborhood or same family.  A small herd of three and four year olds run about while their mothers bounce their still-in-arms siblings.  In reality, I encounter my Amish families throughout my daily life, neighborhood walks, local grocery store, weddings, and funerals.  Last winter I was on call for a very important homebirth 5 miles from my house.  On the verge of a huge blizzard, the forecast had me sleepless at night.  I soothed myself to sleep by counting in my head all the families between my house and hers that I knew from birthwork.  Families that would open the door if I knocked, families that would buggy me the rest of the way to the birth if I got stuck in the snow.  Would you believe it was 12 places between my home and hers? Twelve families who knew me, “Betsy Black, the lady that helps at births”.  What a blessing to know and be known by those around you.

Writing this impresses upon me that this is quite an accomplishment, this web of relationships.  This way of belonging to my community, to my neighbors; it is valuable.  Lately, I struggle to know where my professional life is taking me. The insecure question, “Am I doing enough with my life/with my gifts and abilities?”  creeps into my mind in quiet moments.  I struggle to defeat that insecurity.  Today as I celebrate at my imaginary party I am overwhelmed with the richness that birthwork brings my life and the value of my work. I am important just as I am.  My work matters. I am enough.