Tuesday, March 31, 2015

"F*** it All!"

Woke up about 4 am and saw the beautiful moon.
Woke up about 4 am and saw the beautiful moon. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Yep, that's how I woke up feeling this morning in regards to this journey to becoming a midwife. I've felt that way a whole lot over the past year, and for the most part I've kept it silent. My old wounds from my own traumatic births are so triggered that studying is a struggle, and there seem to be no opportunities to actually put anything I've learned to any kind of use. I thought after all my formal training there would be doula clients and midwives to assist, but no. It's a nightmare. I'm standing in my underwear (figuratively) with everyone staring at me waiting to see what I'll do next. As much as I want to run and hide, I'm only able to move very slowly towards some unknown.

Then I woke up. No, I'm not where I want to be. Yes, it sucks. But it's not about me. It's not about my personal struggle to become something useful to myself, my family, or my world. This is being human. This is knowing the struggle inherent in every birth. This is giving when there is no more to give. The moment of wanting to give up. There are so many of these sacred moments, not only at the end of an unmedicated birth, but before the cesarean that mom and her doula wish wasn't happening. No smooth waters. We're going to find every crack in this boat until you're soaking wet. And then comes your trial by fire. I smile. I've been here before. I dump some coffee into a sour stomach and prepare to pull an all nighter.

Maybe no one needs what I'm able to offer today. That doesn't make my calling a mistake. As much as I would love to have only good memories of my children's births and to gift every pregnant mama with the joy I know is possible when birth is held sacred and moms treated with the respect due them, my place tonight is beside my textbooks. This is not what I want to give my calling. Somehow, I expected a nice/neat balance of coursework and clinical work and a sort of comfortable float towards my goal. Now, I'm laughing.

Tomorrow, I'll be a different person, and the next day, and the next day... Who knows where I may end up? It doesn't matter because I can love where I am right now.