Depart

As many of you know, in a week I am going to load up a large uhaul and hitch a trailer to the back of it and drive west on I-90. I will follow the I-90 corridor, until just after Spokane, where I will head south and then west and then south again. I will head south until I find myself at exit 228, where I will finally head west into Corvallis, Oregon.

I've been planning for this move since May. However, until last week the decision to sell the house was not concrete. When the decision was made, the energy started rolling. The house went on yesterday, and there has already been one showing and another tomorrow.

I had this idea when I was running yesterday. So many people have come through the doors of this home over the past 7 years. I thought it would be nice for the next owners to know what energy has been in this home since it's only had one owner, me.

If you have been one of those people who have come for a visit, whether short or long, "What has this home brought you?" Please comment here, on Facebook, or send me an email. One word. That is all I am asking for. I will then place your word anonymously in the jar and let the creative collective unfold.

One word. 4 seconds of your time. I love you all.

Home

...it’s been an exploration over the past three years of my life. I am reminded by creative efforts and music the feeling of home. I have been working on “coming home” ever since my world got rocked a few years back. A time, where as mentioned, I had to look deep to see the light. I am reminded by this piece from last night that we can be a light for one another, and if we leave that light on inside of us we eventually come home. Come to meet one another.

Home: for so long, I looked outwardly for home. I looked to mountains, fields, lakes, rivers, snow, birds, and natural surroundings to give me a sense of home. I looked to towns in states that had meaning and purpose, believing they would be home. To each meeting, I found some sense of place and sense of purpose. And still there was this piece that lay open for me, this space that was to be filled with something else. Something greater than I knew and probably greater than myself.

Searching: some people seem to be born with home inside of them, knowing and ease that is just what it is. Other people search out to find home. For years, I fought that I was searching. In time, I leaned into the truth that I searched for home. Certainly, I did; and any of my close friends would call me out on it. I may be grounded and clear, but I still searched. I have found home in many places: on the coast of Baja where I said farewell to my Cajun Mawmaw and continued to teach surfing; the day in 1997 when I drove down the Boulder River Valley outside of Big Timber and knew I’d end up in Montana for one reason or another; in the corn fields that surround my birth place; on the porch of our cabin in Iowa; in the height of the San Juan Mountains; in the waves of the Gulf; amidst the varied landscapes of Oregon; on the road to Maternal Child Health and Midwifery; in falling snow and hot, humid summers; on ultra-runs in the middle of nowhere; in falling in love and falling out of love and getting to fall in love again; and in witnessing the entrance and exit of life. In all of these places and many more, I found home. I could continue to write a list on “home” and it reminds me how all the searching and exploring is setting me up for what is up and coming in my life.

A couple weeks back, I was on a run and reminded of how I was selected to present my research at the end of a long day because it would inspire. How quickly I tossed out that piece, “You’re last because we want to be inspired.” That’s some pressure, like a baby sitting on your perineum. Okay. I guess. When I was given my 30 minutes of interrupted presentation time, I took it. I feel now how this 30 minutes is playing out into the work I am and will do in Maternal Health and Midwifery. How I thought simply being a midwife would be enough, and it is plenty let me tell you. However, these 30 minutes began the construction of paving my way home. So home it is I go. This time, and this place in my adult life, I feel home settling inside of me. Something different than I have felt on my search in the past.

“Why not be okay with what you have?” one might ask. I am okay with what I have. There is this feeling that everything I am doing is still working or leading up to something; and recently clarity has set in. For a long time, I couldn’t put my finger on it even though I was being encouraged by my teachers and mentors. I have had ideas, man like no other. And sometimes I have been stuck like a tractor in spring mud. I knew I would have to get myself unstuck this time.

Home makes me feel whole. To watch fluidity exist in my life, right now, because of my commitment and a feeling of coming home is freedom to me. It is an open door to my heart, an open door on my path.

Every home has an entrance or walkway leading up to an open door. The physical and geographical location is one aspect. I come and go from so many locations, I have friends scattered everywhere. Most doors are open when I go, some have closed. All for the right reasons. In my body, I see quadrants of my soul. Recently, I have a strong and new feeling of home in the quadrant that houses my role in Midwifery, in Maternal Child Health, in exploring rural Maternity Care, in medicine, in healing, and in culture; and another quadrant of my soul that houses the joy from ultra-running and skiing through mountains, surfing waves (although ultimately I am still a huge beginner) and playing in my body; in the next quadrant I feel peace in sitting on a front-porch swing in the south or at the lake, just watching life around, watching James grow up, and the sense of home family brings me; and, in that final quadrant is my heart. It is the holding place of all that is abundant in my life and all that is thriving. It is the place of decision and it is the place I am caring for like a newborn child. I have a new commitment to home and the feeling of home in my heart. My heart had a few years of getting repeatedly broken and somehow I was able to apply the salve of my ancestors and all the searching I had done, and man has that salve been the best applied healing this woman could take on. I don’t know why I write ya’ll my personal explorations in life. I just hope it inspires you to carry forth with that feeling in your heart.

As I settle deeper in to my “home,” I know today I will wander off to my childhood summers, the drive to the beach from Pt. Arthur to Galveston, the Live Oaks, crabbing with my dad and Jen, the tattered roads of SE Texas, and my family. But in this office on a beautiful day, I now have to write my Letter of Intent for part of my heart work that requires additional education. Yep, more education. This girl will be a “doctor” one way or another. My ancestors are bringing me home and I never expected this home. Yet the light is on and I keep on walking into it.

That Roaring Freight Train

When you walk into the room of a birthing woman, you step in and gather awareness. You smell the smell of labor and birth, you observe the environment and movements of the people in the room. There are those she has invited to support and love her, and there is her professional birth team. There is a gathering.

Nobody can project the speed of the birth. They can hope and wish and intuit, but often we forget the most important passenger has the journey all mapped out and really the birth is in "their" hands. How easily we forget the biggest journey of all is occurring for that little baby who will squeeze through tight passages only to open that mother's awareness beyond any scope she's ever imagined opening. But, what happens when that birth is fast, or what we call a "precipitous" birth? I've heard it explained as "intense" or like a "roaring freight train."

Disclaimer: I am a 35 year old woman and Midwife who has yet to birth her own babies, so this writing is based on experience and listening to birth stories. I have not yet experienced the freight train, but I will begin with my own birth story from my Mom and also from my Daddy's perspective. It was Jan 4th, 1976 and my mom had the flu alongside my sister. She went to bed that night still sick and hoping the flu would kick soon. She suspected she might be in early labor or getting ready since my date of arrival was said to be Dec 17th. Now my mom, she doesn't really believe in a due date...Therefore, it was her belief that I was meant to arrive when I was ready. So sick or not, she was going to bed.

Sometime in the early morning on Jan 5th, my mother realized she was in labor and that it would be best if she and my daddy made the trek towards the Twin Cities and the hospital. We lived in a small town about one hour south of the Cities. We got in our green Fiat, and she brought a garbage can just in case. 12 miles north of was a town called Northfield. Aside: When I turned 6, we moved 2 blocks away from the very small hospital I was born in. I would run down the street to watch the Life Flight helicopters every time one roared over our house. Another obsession-helicopters and wondering about the person flying to a bigger hospital in the Cities. The house has yet to be vacated by the Egbert-Preddy clan almost 30 years later. Mind you, the time is around 5 am once they were ready to leave the house. In the Green Fiat, the sped north on 35. They got close to exit 69, the exit to Northfield, and my mom tells my dad to turn off an get to the closest hospital because "this baby is coming." Dad's story is that he drove her up to the front doors of the hospital he was so nervous, and that he barely missed the birth. Momma says it wasn't that dramatic and that he made it in plenty of time. They got there around 6 am and I was born at 6:24am, after a push or two. I came out screaming and immediately "voided" (aka pee'd) on Dr. Risgard who was my doctor until he retired. I was the first baby in 1976 to be born at Northfield Hospital.

The other birth that stands out in my mind today was a pretty vulnerable birth. I was a student in the end of my training. Three days prior, we had a very difficult birth which had left me wide open. Somewhere in those 3 days, I pulled on my "big girl" pants and knew that Midwifery was the work I wanted to do for a long long time. That I had met my calling. Some would have turned away at this point, I just faced it and kept leaning in. This sweet momma whom I had developed a solid relationship with quickly was due to birth any day. Her vulnerability, three months prior she had lost her husband to a tragic accident. I had the "heads-up" call somewhere in late evening and was instructed to go to the Birth Center, because this mom was in early labor. She was on her way and it would take 45 minutes. I made my way to the birth center and thought, "I'll set up the birth suite, do the initial intake and then I'd call the rest of the birth team in for support." Hah!

I remember sitting at the reception desk when the mom, her sister, and grandma walked in the door. This momma wasin-labor, and I mean rock and roll active labor. She asked to be checked. When I checked her, I said, "There's a bulging bag of water here, you're 4 cm, however when I pull my hand out let's just be prepared." Driving that train, her water broke immediately, her eyes popped open and she said, "Oh my god, here comes the baby." And I looked around, seeing that it was just me since I couldn't call the rest of the birth team and looked at her sister and said, "Grab that Oxygen tank and that tray please. Do you mind being a birth assistant?" She was excited and said, "of course!" Grandma was right in there with us.

Freight train. She dilated from 4 to complete in a minute and Momma jumped in the tub. She was squatting, and baby was a-comin' and FAST. One push, eyes open wide (a reflex called the fetal ejection response) and I can feel the top of the baby's head in my hand and perineum slowly allowing baby to come through. There was a moment of panic from the mom. Her husband and support not with her, grief all around, and yet here we are immersed in birth. Inside me, I could only focus on being present with this mom. Loving this mom. No focus on the past, just focus here. I told her to look me in the eyes and together we were going to make little "puffs" and ease this baby out. And so we did. "Pfft, pfft, pfft, pfft, pfft, pfft," and slowly this baby slid out and restituted and she followed her body and sat back on her tailbone. She reached down as her baby was born and pulled her into her arms, looked at me and said, "We did it." They did it, and this was 12 minutes from the time she stepped foot into the birth center. Literally.

Writing this, I feel my heart flutter and swell. She had a minute to rest, and I had a minute to call my team. I called my supervising Midwife, who was on I-5 heading South towards the birth center since she hadn't heard from me. I said, "We have a baby. I'm sorry I didn't have time to call." She first asked how I was, and I bursted into tears saying, "Shaken, but great." Then mom, and I said, "Amazing." She said, "Well done. You're a Midwife." Sweet and easy placenta birth. Momma, babe and Aunty snuggled on the bed in tears. The daddy of this new baby was around in spirit. It was clear. 12 hours later, the new family quietly snuck away from the birth center.

Some bodies are meant to birth slow. Some bodies are meant to birth fast. I believe babies come as they are ready during labor as so much of their journey is learning how to fit through this small space into a much more vast and expansive atmosphere. I also have been contemplating the fact that we as providers love to research current evidence on the events of birth and pregnancy. Yesterday, a Physician out of Canada began a piece and in the title questioned if our over-indulgence in evidenced-based care in Obstetricsa is doing more harm than good. Even though I read daily new releases on evidence-based maternity care, I wonder the same thing...are we doing more harm than good?

When it come to precipitous birth, be prepared for overwhelming sensations and doing your best to accommodate the adjustments. That is the best one can do. Work with your partner. Work with your team. Let us providers get out of the way and allow you to connect with your baby and your body on a deep, intuitive level. When that freight train passes, embrace the bond of new life.

Joining Hands

A little something in the works...

My steps into healing and medicine began when I was about 6 years old and had enough awareness to see the work my grandfather did. I was fascinated by his instruments, mostly by the stool that I knew he used to slide from a desk to a patient. I was obsessed. When my grandfather passed away, I was in the seventh grade. I hung up the phone after speaking with my daddy about grandpa and I said, “I will become a doctor.” My path to midwifery wasn’t all that straightforward, however. I began the journey out of high school to be a pre-med major. However, a significant family event moved me to head down a path of self-discovery. I quit medicine and explored education, wilderness pursuits, and the world of shamanism, yoga, energy-work, and integrative healing medicines. I had silenced crucial ingredients in my life from age 10 to 19: magic, earth wisdom, integrity, and a sense of wonder. My grades began to reflect that my desire to go to medical school was waning and my desire to learn to be a leader, visionary and educator was surfacing. I rose to the occasion. After 6 years of this adventure, the yearning returned. These six years laid the foundation for a huge leap I would take in the coming years. When I asked, I listened and heard the calling to empower and transform the lives of women and families through healthcare and medicine. But wait...I thought I was going to be a healer and the kind of healer that lives out in the woods with all her spirits and woody treatments. Instead, I saw myself in both hospitals and the wilderness. I saw myself in homes and clinics. I saw myself surrounded by infants and children. I saw all these visions and I continued to shove them to the very back of my brain where they would lay dormant until I was ready to awaken. Somehow, the adventures of my life from 1996 to 2003 mashed together and created what I am becoming today. In 2003, I applied to midwifery school. Shortly before the program was to begin, my best friend died in a climbing accident. I was asked to conduct and hold the space of the memorial service. During this moment, as snakes slid into our circle and osprey flew in circles above I learned about the true meaning of the word “Midwife.”

Midwife, phonetically, means “with woman.” It was an expert in education who reminded me that we can be more than just a midwife to the parturient woman. He reminded me to be a midwife to my students, a midwife to the dying and mourning, and most important a midwife to myself. I am one of the fortunate women and men who have studied Midwifery and have become licensed as a Midwife. This work is extraordinary. It is a profession, in the United States, that has been pushed to the bottom of the totem pole even though we fly to tall heights for our patients. It is a profession that compromises relationships, social adventures, birthday parties and sometimes love-making because the phone rings and you hear your client is having contractions 2 to 3 minutes apart and feeling lots of pressure. Commonly, you then have to get your assistants and students lined up, all while brushing your teeth and getting ready for the “day.” As one friend said, “You just miss out on so many things.” I don’t see my job that way. I see it as the opportunity to leave the mundane rituals of our human existence to move along side with a woman in labor; and when the activity of labor presents I am there to make sure everything is birthed safely and as intuitively as the agreement made between mother and baby before the birth begins. And when that agreement is meant to draw in the attendant and challenge them, I am there with all my education and training to act as a health care professional and make sure both mom and baby are “born” safely.

I chose the profession of midwifery over obstetrics because it matched my beliefs in women, birth and health care. I see pregnancy and birth as an opportunity to grow and learn, rather than an illness and condition. I am trained and educated to recognize and work with complications, however the mother is not a complication to me nor is the baby inside her womb until she presents with a complication and needs medical attention. I see pregnancy as a magical time. At birth is when we become the gatekeepers, whether you wear the acronym of CPM, CNM, MD, Ob/Gyn. I still see birth as a magical event. In this country, where 1 in every 5,600 mothers giving birth unfortunately dies-we the gatekeepers are here to change that issue and see to these numbers improving. It is our job people, our job to make this number fewer and fewer each MINUTE. Each minute.

A new chapter began today, started gestating a couple months ago. As I slowly grow into this new chapter in Midwifery and Maternal/Child Health I will do my best to be a better writer. To keep you informed. However, if you are a Midwife, a Doctor, or a Momma carrying her child inside or in her arms, or a poppa loving your family-do your best today to find your strongest vision, your strongest point in which to take care of the women that surround you, the women that make community, the women that we need to hold in life. Find it, write it here, write is somewhere else. Just make sure it matters to you, to your highest self and create what is yours. Again, CREATE it with all your heart.

Unwinding

Restitution: the move a baby makes to find it's way into the world. What happens when a baby decides to restitute slowly or not at all? It's what we providers call the fine art of Dystocia. Do we love it? No! I have heard from some OB's that Midwives are "brave" for being able to manage such complications outside of a hospital suite. Brave...Brave...I can remember not feeling so brave. Was I being forced to "dig deep" and as deep as I can go to trust in safety and trust in the body's wisdom. Yes. What have been the results? Babies come out, they are born.

Why don't you want to restitute baby? What's in there that's so great? Or is it that opening is shaped just a little uniquely and it's not so easy to fit through. How can I help you? Come on, one more contraction. Deep breaths (momma and provider). The release will happen. The release will happen. One more contraction. So we wait for the contraction, because that provides the force. If with the next contraction, still no progression, we as providers begin to act and the flight or fight hormones work in cadence between mom and provider. It is a team effort, and there is no "I" in team. There is a tedious protocol when it comes to managing dystocia, as when not resolved after one or two maneuvers you must act quickly to reduce damage to both momma and baby. You think about mom, you think about baby, you pray. You think about the resuscitation station. You think about postpartum hemorrhage. You get the mom out of the tub. When "encouraged" to dig deep, I work in an active form of meditation. Or maybe it's silent recitation.

So here i go...digging deep to "wonder." What is the one thing I call upon when I am watching a woman push and birth her baby? Is there more than one? Do I ever reflect on my energetic/karmic influence on a birth? I have got all the tools. I can hear the babies heart, I can see the mom's well-being, I can work with my environment and it's inhabitants. Where do I dig to go into action? Even if my role as a player in this genuine dance is really off in the distance, where am I stuck? What frees me? Freedom. Wonder. If I show up, fully present and in my most loving state, will this be enough?

I remember getting tested for our final exams in midwifery school and walking into the Dystocia lab. There, an actress sat, "birthing" her baby. It was nothing like the test when it happened alone, with no other assistant beside me. When I dug deep, I heard Suzy Myers and Gail Tully slowly walking me through the steps. I felt fear ripple through my body. I talked to the baby. I listened. I took deep breaths. Loved ones came. I saw the guides I call on to help me. I saw the Board of Alternative Medicine in Montana. I saw my sister midwives. Somehow, they all came to the birth for a brief moment. Then I called deeper and remembered things I never knew I'd remember. And they left. I worked. Then baby was born, vigorous and mad at me (for a while). This is the act of digging deep in Obstetrics and we all have to do it. And we all talk about it. We share and tell our stories.

If you are finding yourself "stuck" what is it that inspires you to unwind and jump back to your path? Where is that well inside of you that gets you to "deep" and clicks the light back on? That last little squeeze can be the greatest effort on a newborns behalf and it is the beginning of life, a very important step in the first breath of life. We will continue to restitute throughout life and I hope today you explore resolve and restitute to your call. Enjoy.

Demystifying the Obstetrician

This month I shadowed a fellow maternity care colleague, Melissa Augustyn, MD. Melissa is an OB/Gyn who has an incredible history and known for being a brilliant, 36 year old independent and unique woman and physician. As I repeatedly state, I know and acknowledge that in the US there are many controversial issues that sit between the medical and midwifery models, hence rubbing onto the skin and creating irritations between OB's and Midwives routinely. We all have big shoes to fill and this month I found no extra time to be in the creative process of my "mini-series." I am reminded what full clinic days are like, combined with a birth or five, and now add on surgery and potential cesarean births. The days you get home late in the night, if you get home, and drop in bed after a shower because that is all you can do. Then I think to myself, "This is what I do." This is why my spare time is precious. Providers in the midwifery model and medical maternity model do not live ordinary lives, as ordinary as we wish we could be. Yet here's my attempt to bring ordinary courage, compassion and connection to a big mystery. Some say, "let the mystery be," but I am WAY too curious to have let this opportunity slip by.

To aid in the mini-series, I read Brene Brown's book to contextualize and "Dig Deep" into my first project. I am a midwife who wants to walk in the shoes of those who walk in all Maternity Care. I want to access women who would not choose home birth as a birthing option. Therefore, I got to walk the halls and offices and surgical suites of Bozeman Deaconess. My first day was classic. We were on call, we had 22 patient visits, we had 2 births going on-one a VBAC (where I was the planned doula) and um...I decided to walk out of the house with 2 different colored clogs on. At around 2 pm, after our third non-stress test visit I looked down at my feet and noticed one brown and one black shoe. GO FIGURE! Here's a midwife exploring the medical world, wearing two different shoes. I walk out of the room and say to Melissa, "So when were you going to mention the shoes?" Her response, "I thought it was cool, some new trend and you were hip to it." We cracked up and I comfortably made jokes about myself the rest of the day. Never in all my apprenticeship years did I do that, but the day I decide to enter the medical model of course I show up "unique."

A demystifying comment. Within an hour of arriving to the office, I met a fellow physician in the practice. When she heard I was a midwife she responded, "So you've come and now you can see that we're not anti-christ." Well, I never thought OB's were the anti-christ to begin with so I responded, "No, I am here so you learn midwives are not the anti-christ." Our relationship began to bloom right at that moment. Reciprocity exists.

I was able to walk the halls of Bozeman Deaconess intimately with a compassionate physician. A physician who sits with her birthing mom's and waits well into the postpartum to make sure everyone is situated, one who leaves the surgical suite with her patients as they enter recovery, and one who goes out of her way to make sure care is coordinated and comfortable. Every provider, midwife or OB, has differing styles and yet I deeply believe we have the same goals: healthy mom, healthy baby.

The month blew my mind and heart wide open. I have had little capacity for social activity. The mountains my refuge. Birds signs of calm, owl calling on a snowy evening as the sun set and moon rose. Body standing for hours watching women have the organ removed that helped them bring life into this world, leaning to one side because I never knew I would be so profoundly attracted to surgery and to the power of helping women continue forward in comfort rather than excruciating pain. Assisting in a cesarean that in the moment I could see my vision changing. Deep compassion, awareness changing. Connecting. Nerves. Courage. Watching the most beautiful VBAC happen naturally with two parents, two friends who inspire me in parenting, inspire me in family, inspire me in love. Watching their hearts fill and to witness their 'miraculous journey' in what has been an intolerant hospital to VBAC. Whispering into the ear of another mom (who had asked me about placental encapsulation) and who was unmedicated and pushing in side lying, "You are doing brilliantly and you're strong." She whispered back, "Thank you." And on the next push baby entered our world. Letting go of the structure that held me solid for years to allow for new opening, new expansion and allowing whatever wanted to enter to enter. Breath.

The last 5 hours of my last day, we waited around the hospital as the backup team for another mother who was a VBAC. Start with a VBAC, end with a VBAC. As we talked in Melissa's office for 5 hours post clinic and the 8 hours of surgery, she asked me about energy healing, the depths of my midwifery education and if I could see auras. She asked me about shamanism. She asked me about nutrition. I asked her about her residency at Case Western Reserve in Ohio and she taught me about the tricks of the trade in saving lives during moments when you have 5 minutes to save a woman's life. We watched on the computer the birthing VBAC mother as she progressed, together we sent her positive birth energy because every successful VBAC at Bozeman Deaconess paves the way for the next. At 10:19 pm on the 24th of February, another mother had the chance to attempt a vaginal birth after cesarean on wavering waters and her miracle occurred. First, the intrauterine pressure catheter slid off the strip and 2 minutes later so did the external fetal monitor. We phoned down to Labor and Delivery and heard the positive reports, sent a congratulations text, packed our bags from the day and went home. Happy momma, happy babe, happy family, and new possibilities always are able to occur for in the universe there are no boundaries and absolutely everything is possible.

After Brene's book, I began reading "Spell of the Sensuous" by David Abrams. The first chapter, Ecology of Magic, I have read in the past however it comes back around. After a personal dose of oxytocin I read these lines,"Without a continually adjusted awareness of the relative balance or imbalance between the human group and its nonhuman environ, along with the skills necessary to modulate that primary relation, any "healer" is worthless-indeed, not a healer at all. The medicine person's primary allegiance, then, is not to the human community, but to the earthly web of relations in which that community is embedded-it is from this that his or her power to alleviate human illness derives."

As I continually adjust my awareness, I am so grateful that I live with an open heart. My work is just beginning. It fills me with tremendous joy to have had such an invaluable experience this last month, and if anything I can say that I reminded my obstetrician friend how to see auras. After all, she is the one who could see air molecules when she was a little girl. I deeply believe in magic and faith.

A mini-series

Coming home from a day in the backcountry Sunday, while I was reminded of the grandeur of my backyard and what happens to an off-call adventure woman turned midwife who spent 3 consecutive years OFF her skis and on-call, an idea came to me. Just like Simon Sinek, TED turned me on to Brene Brown on Dec 31st. As well, a line from a Mumford and Sons song came to me. Both sing of loving with our whole hearts. Being maternity care and midwifery care are wholehearted loves of mine, I am going on a creative writing endeavour based around complications that occur during childbirthto bring ordinary courage, connection and compassion to these somewhat normal yet often terrifying occurrences in maternity care.

Why do I focus on the complications? Brene Brown inspired a thought...she speaks that when people are asked about love that they talk about heartbreak. When you ask people about belonging, they talk about exclusion. When asked about connection, they tell you about disconnection. In a land of normal births, where complications are few and far between, it is often that we midwives discuss the complications rather than the birth that lit the light in our hearts. What if we turned our experiences around, from fear to love? What would it do for all of us as providers? As Brene encourages, I am going to lean into these occurrences on this creative adventure. It's like the mystery strength of the womb that keeps a baby safe and nourished, leaning into a membrane that may provide some temporary discomfort can bring great awakening and deeper connection to our experiences in the outside world.

To begin, I leave you with a piece from the Tao to inspire an entrance into creativity:

"To be whole, let yourself break.

To be straight, let yourself bend.

To be full, let yourself be empty.

To be new, let yourself wear out.

To have everything, give everything up.

Knowing others is a kind of knowledge;

knowing yourself is wisdom.

Pushing ahead may succeed,

but staying put brings endurance.

To know that you do not know is strength.

Not knowing that you do not know is a sickness.

The cure begins with the recognition of the sickness.

Knowing what is permanent opens the mind.

Open mind, open heart.

Open heart, magnanimity."

Photo: Pennycandy Handmade

A little phrase

...goes a long way when it comes to the words Martin Luther King spoke, "I have a dream." Last night, at a fundraising supper, I was asked to dream. Dream about what project I would create for a three to five year strategic plan for Global Midwife Education Foundation. Well, with me, dreaming has no limits because my parents and grandparents always encouraged me to fly.

I watched Simon Sinek speak back in May 2010 on TED. Mr. Sinek uses MLK as an example of a great leader who inspired. First off, Simon is brilliant. Over time, he discovered that inspiring leaders like MLK all think, act and communicate in the same exact way and their thinking is opposite of everyone else. His learning helped him develop or "codify" The Golden Circle. This code explains why some organizations are able to inspire and succeed while others do not. This code encourages organizations and businesses to operate from the inside out, being that we operate from WHY we do what we do first. Then we explore HOW we do it, and finally WHAT we're going to do to accomplish the goals of why we do what we do. That's a tongue twister. In his words, "People don't buy what you do they buy why you do it...The goal is to do business with people who believe what you believe." Biology is the foundation for Sinek's research. He says, "None of what I'm telling you is my opinion, it's all grounded in the tenets of Biology." This is when I get sucked in and listen closely. How does this Why, How and What correlate to the brain and biology? He describes how that three areas of the brain correlate with the components of the Golden Circle. The limbic brains (operating: all feelings/all human behaviour/all decision making/has no capacity for language) control the inner parts of the Golden Circle (why and how), and the neocortex (operating: rational thought/analytical thought/language) controls the outer circle (what). He continues on to repeat, "people don't buy what you do, they buy why you do it." Instead of reiterating this whole presentation, I really encourage you to go watch it. There is so much to be gained, especially when you're asked to dream up a project that you can implement in the future and one that can inspire change. A project you present to a Founder and a Board of Directors, because you believe so deeply and passionately in something and you'll know this dream can become a reality.

Two people know one of my dreams, soon three people will know it, including myself that makes four. Most of you know the gist of the dream pertains to the improvement of maternal and infant health, globally and locally. However, until I can make this dream a reality I will work on it within our foundation and continue to tend the fire that feeds me to believe in why i do what I do. Once it's ready "for release," you'll surely hear of it.

I leave you with Simon Sinek's mission: To run and jump and laugh and cry and love and hope and imagine...to experience as much as I can all for one purpose: to inspire. We can all hope for so much. I know I do. If you have a dream, go out and get it.

Song of Gentleness

Developing the awareness that a loved one has been diagnosed with stage four or metastatic cancer is shocking. It is a development that sat me down and made me see the world I lived within in a whole new way, one I am still adjusting to. After the shock wore off, I could do my best to stand tall, support, and be love with my dad as he journeyed through his last year. My friend works in Oncology and we often talk about living with cancer, and the magnitude of life these people live with. The reality: some people live, some people die. Who knows the reason some live and some don't, however as family and friend and community it is our job daily to send love to that person whether energetically or physically. I remember the days I "forgot" my dad was living with cancer. He was just my buddy and my big fat teddy bear, the one who sang me to sleep every night until (I'm admitting this) I was easily in 8th grade. Swing low, sweet chariot. The one who now lives in my heart.

...my poppa set his wings free two years ago Jan 12th. I want to say thank you daddy for showing me that love never quits you and is always right there in our heart waiting for us to wake up each day and hear it's call. I know this was your last lesson, the call to love. When I asked you if you'd make it to your birthday, Feb 13, you said, "Just barely." Thank you for making it to mine that year, sharing in such delicious cake and a large group of people who love us. Thank you for your infectious laugh and warm, warm spirit. I hope it keeps rubbing off onto me. Peace to your continued flight. I love you.

It's a beautiful day, don't let it get away. Eat and drink it up!

Tending Threads

There's this little thread that hangs from a piece of clothing that needs to be stitched on my sewing table. it has been waiting for me since July, about the same time I finished my last birth. I remember the day in my garden when I looked down and my trusty work/climbing shorts that have been through years of exercise decided they needed a bit of a break and ripped right at the zipper. Either that, or my butt had increased in size just one inch too much. As the last month has held a lot of rearrangement in house and in heart, I have found freedom in space, creative expansion and stability. I have been looking around at the things that needed stitching and tended to them, as well as I have been thinking of tending to this little URL that has been a creative outlet all year long.

Autumn to winter took me on the trip of becoming very clear with my goals in midwifery and what my focus for 2011 would be. One day in October, I had heard how there was this doctor going to Morocco teaching midwives and when I checked out the website I realized a dear friend was the Director of Education of this burgeoning foundation. I connected with Genevieve Chabot, Ed.D, and she told me all about Global Midwife Education Foundation. While Genevieve and I dove into conversation about the organization, I knew that this was work I wanted to be part of. When we first spoke, the Executive Director Genevieve Reid, MD, was just about to leave for her first midwifery training in Morocco. Therefore, our initial meet and greet would have to be postponed to late October or early November. After the conversation with Chabot, I gathered and collected like I like to do in my research ways, externally and internally. The big question, "How do I present myself to these women? How can I make this work become a part of my every day life?" Over the next month or so, Chabot and I emailed and spoke often. Our friendship goes back a handful of years, so we could catch up on GMEF and on life. Together, we find many ways to laugh, play, and enjoy company. I sent Genevieve Reid my resume and then just let the rest unfold. In early November, we met up for what I felt like was an interview for my future. I met with Genevieve Reid and Chabot, and Cloe Erickson (the conduit connecting GMEF in Morocco). Together, we sat around the table for a brief hour and it was enough time to feel the fire ignite. My goals with midwifery, which had been coming into place since June, became clear.

Shortly after I began to see these goals, I read a quote in a backcountry ski rag that sits on the back of my loo. The quote, spoken from a ski racer turned humble poppa/ski mountaineer read, "A goal without a plan is just a wish." I deeply believe in the wish, but his words sunk in over a cup of coffee. "Just like midwifery school," I thought to myself. It was a long-time goal, and the plan and structure of my formal education was the gift that gave me the inspiration and drive to sacrifice a lot in life, to train in three different states with over 8 midwives, write a increasingly convincing thesis, and enjoy myself in the process. Also like running an endurance race, to do well it takes a plan.

2010 and the few special births in 2009 were rites of passage for me. It was these years that gave me the confidence to apply for a job in a very busy birth center in Austin, TX and (even with a solid interview) not get the job because it appeared "I had other fish to fry." Maybe it was the fact that I like fried fish...However, it was all in perfect alignment. 2010 brought me home. It welcomed a few handfuls of births that taught me the training, the research, the effort and all the energy I planned and directed from 2005 to 2008 were worth it beyond expression. I remember the birth where I left home in April around midnight and crossed 7th and Durston to see a close group of friends of mine walking to the local bar and I thought, "How lucky, I get to watch a baby come into the world. How lucky they'll be dancing." Both bring joy in different ways. I remember the birth in May where we watched snow fall as a sweet boy entered the world, and yet by the time I left the house the sun was up and the snow was beginning to melt. I remember a lot more than that with my picture taking mind, but it is every moment that was spent with midwifery that got me to work out the holding patterns and the kinks that were surfacing during the fall. I welcomed my return to confidence. I welcomed the return to light, even though the light of day was waning. I embraced that good plans, woven with the intentional threads of a goal, take commitment. I made the commitment to return to a path connected to the Beloved, the Infinite, the creative and loving Universe, Mother Nature, God or Great Spirit. We all have different names to connect and feel the pulse and flow of love that is never-ending from this Source and it is the commitment I was made to carry out as I was born at 6:24am in Northfield, MN (almost in a garbage can in a Fiat, but made it to a hospital) on January 5th, 1976. The commitment to be love and to find my way back when taken off course. To reach fruition, meeting goals takes planning and commitment is inherent. Argue with me if you want, but this is what works for me.

2011 brings inspiration, new beginnings and continued commitment. It brings to me the maturation of a long love affair with the art of medicine, healing, and the passion it provides. In November, I was elected to the Board of Global Midwife Education Foundation. Since, the meetings and conversations have me feeling like myself again and in relationship with the work that pertains to this blog. I have been inspired by these women and our talks, and I hear I have been inspiring. It appears we all like to have a lot of fun together, the business process is creative, and there is solid dynamic developing within GMEF. At the current time, we're gestating. We are intensively fundraising, therefore nobody involved can quit their day jobs just yet. We all live passionately for this work. It is amazing to be part of an organization that in its very early developmental phases so deeply believes in why we will do what we do. The future is bright. One more aspect that is as crystal clear as the snow outside as this new year starts, midwifery is my work whether at the end or beginning of life. My hands are always in it and I love the places it has taken me, the experiences I have witnessed, and the people I have met. I love where it will take me in 2011. A year where I get to sleep thru the night, at least almost every night of the year. I get to ski and run more than I have since 2006, and that in itself opens a window wide. I get to dive deeper into a new world of midwifery, business, education, and activism because these elements are my focus, my goals and the plan is in place.

I stitched that garment up today. It's now back in the drawer and waiting for summer when I can run around in shorts and play in the warm summer air. Until then, I will frolic with full heart, mind, soul and body through the mountains with their majestic snow. Blessings to this new year and may you find inspiration in every day. It's there waiting for you.