This Self-Assuredly Strange Life

(In this post, I'm including pictures from a dreamy photo shoot I did with some lovely Denver ladies back in March outside of Red Rocks, as promised.  Enjoy.)

The lifestyle I've always dreamed of is finally, and strangely, taking shape.  A nomadic path bridging city and country life, uprooted in order to respond to any breeze or need.  I've been sleeping in a cozy four-person tent, bought cheap from Walmart, in my dear friend Amy's backyard.  Picture her city lot full of fruit trees, elderberry bushes, volunteer vegetable plants and perennial herbs surrounding a fire pit, just before entering the back half of wooded territory, which I have made my little grotto.  I've hung my hammock, although it's much too humid to avoid the mosquitoes.  I have a basket for linens, a crate of clothing, a drum, a book, and a rain fly.  My cooking tools and supplies are up by the house and my bulk herbs are in the garage.  The rest of my necessities are packed down in my Chevy Venture.  

Things as a medical professional are exploding.  I was just accepted to the Office of Women's Health and Women's Health Leadership Institute's Community Health Worker (CHW) training, which admittedly changes everything.  It impacts my doula work in a huge way, as CHWs are essentially public health "doulas" in a more broad sense in that they provide education and advocacy for a variety of different health conditions and populations (not just pregnancy and birth).  This means that I will be able to widen my services to include many aspects of reproductive health.  CHWs also have an interesting and critical role as their work places a heavy emphasis on culturally competent care- that is, providing it themselves as well as enforcing it from medical care providers.  Part of this particular training is getting set up with a supervisor who helps the trainee execute a community project in their home community.  So Sycamore Center will be heavily impacted by this, and it may even prove to give shape to the organization completely.  

I've also started my volunteerism with the American Red Cross.  I have distant dreams of being deployed in the face of natural disaster to set up mobile birth units, and I figure that climbing their ladder and getting trained in mass food distribution as well as shelter management is the best free way to do it (no degree!!  woo!!).

 

And I've also met the man of my dreams.  There's no other way to put that, really.  He feeds my vision of escaping the troubles of the world to high atop a Black Hill-side, feeding my goats and staring up at the clouds with nothing but the wind to hear.  Waiting patiently for the next mother to go into labor as I cultivate my herb garden, smoke out a hive of bees, or help him haul in the next project.  He calls me his goddess, Nefer, and perhaps someday I will be his queen, yelling at kids from the porch he built.  Through all of the hard work I'm doing these days, I'm walking on Cloud 99.

But tonight, with all of this spiraling around me (and not out of control, mind you, but part of the ever-changing cycle of my life which right now is busy, busy, busy), I am trying to stay mindful of the simple things.  Sage infusing in white wine vinegar.  Slow eating.  Choosing to stay in one place for the moment.  Walking barefoot on the earth.  I need that reminder to be here now, but being on the right path makes it easier to give to myself.  

I've never felt this self-assured of my own joy.  It's pretty wonderful.

Motherwork as an oppressive state

I really didn't think I would be a stay-at-home-mom.  Ever.  

In fact, if I were to have gone to a fortune teller as a twenty-year-old, have her look in her deck and tell me that I would someday, very soon, be a stay-at-home-mom, married to a man who worked full time bringing in all the money, I would have demanded my money back.  Or punched her in the face, or both.  Obviously, I think my son is the most amazing human being I have ever met (and, for the record, I'm not the only one) and I consider my role as a mother one of sacred trust from the universe, however I wasn't really expecting the reality of this society's lack of appreciation for the work I'm doing to slap me in the face so.. hard.  I'm actually pretty upset about it.

As with everything in motherhood, it's too complex to completely explain, but other mothers have an intuitive sense of what I'm talking about when I say, "I've had it!"  Trying to explain it to others has been met with perplexed and apologetic responses such as, "But isn't it great that you get to raise your kid the way you want?" or "And you're doing such an important thing!" as if that's enough to shut me up and make it okay that I'm volunteering so much time for the benefit of society at large.  This is why the whole "cute baby reward" argument doesn't chalk up to me.  It's not okay for me to sacrifice paying work (believe me, if I got paid for my motherwork, I would shut right up) for a cute baby to cuddle with every night.  That's not the point of it for me.  It's hard work to consciously parent and to be bringing this kid up as a person who values the people around him (his mother included).  The U.S. minces no words in its value on this work.  And it's a hard pill for me to swallow.  Every.  single.  day.

I try hard not to resent my partner.  It's really hard!  The important thing with that is my compassion for his experience.  He would rather be parenting than working.  And I would rather be dragging the meat home.  This is why I married him!  I realize that he, too, is a victim in this nuclear set-up.  I wonder how this happened- is it just that easy to fall into this kind of situation for people?  Is it that prescribed?  The most difficult part of it is that I'm the one who's in charge of finding yet another solution.  And while I understand that any revolution or change comes from the ground, or those at the bottom, it just makes me wonder how much of that contributes to any sort of oppression.  How are the burnt-out expected to make their own lives better?  Where is the support?  I'm expected to schlep my car-seat-hating baby around town, find free childcare every week, feed him with my body, grow my own food, go to class, get good grades, AND organize that childcare co-op with all of the other isolated mamas in town that will magically solve all my problems? 

Again, I don't expect anybody without children to grasp this reality, to be fair.  It's also hard to hear things like, "I'm so glad I don't have kids", when I am asked how I'm doing (because I tell the truth).  Obviously, I don't have a single-handed solution, so I can't script the support, but hearing those types of things further undermines the great job I'm doing, and my contribution.  And right now, I'm out to make it known that my motherwork is a contribution to society, and that all mothers (and papas doing motherwork) are currently providing a free service in raising the next generation of rabble-rousers.  And it's damn hard work.  The last thing I need is to have some child-free privilege flapped in my face (intentional or not), because I value my work.  I just wish I wasn't so alone. 

New VBAC recommendations- Yay or Nay?

I started school back up after a 5 week summer break and it's been a difficult transition.  I've been pretty distracted by the internet- the new Feministing layout, doula stuff including my upcoming ToLabor training and a feature on RadicalDoula.com, and several pieces of news that have dominated my mind.  

The first thing to share is the new recommendations from the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) on VBACs (vaginal birth after cesarean).  "The preponderance of evidence suggests that most women with one previous cesarean delivery with a low transverse incision are candidates for and should be counseled about VBAC and offered TOLAC."  Not that we didn't already know that, but the fact that the ACOG is coming out with a more positive opinion on VBAC is encouraging.  Take it with a grain of salt, though- we all know the trend of caregivers ignoring the medical community's recommendations (take circumcision for example), but I'm hoping this will give women seeking a VBAC some leverage when looking for a care provider.  How do you think it will effect birth options?

On the abortion front, several women in Mexico have been found being held in prison, serving 20-30 year sentences, for having abortions (one of which reported to be a spontaneous abortion, i.e. miscarriage)   The worst part is that the same district that is incarcerating them (while denying it) refused to teach sexuality education in it's schools.  Read the complete article here.

On a more positive note, I just got the first issue of SQUAT in the mail.  I'm really excited to see the beginning of a wave of radical birth journals and zines (including Outlaw Midwives Vol. 1).  It's making me think that I should probably work on my writing skills... 

Of unquantifiable value- radical doula services in a capitalist society.

I'm beginning the process of putting together a sort of childbirth education discussion group with my back up doula and a yoga teacher I'm friends with.  I really appreciate it when things just come together organically, as far as organizing things goes.  There have been so many times I've tried to put things together after sitting on it for a long time, only to find that the idea was so much better than actualizing it will ever be.  But this morning was refreshing.  No second guessing, no hang ups.  It's a really sweet thing to find an effective, efficient group of folks who are passionate about getting something done.    

It's making me consider my feelings about charging for my services, though.  As an anarchist, I am definitely cost-prohibited (in reality as much as in theory), not to mention that I think doula services are something that every mama has a right to.  I know that this is something that other radical doulas have struggled with.  What are the implications of applying the capitalist system to childbirth?  Beyond just the thought that health care is a right, but is it appropriate for me to adhere to a hierarchical cash exchange over something with unquantifiable value?  Does that make sense?  I just feel a little hypocritical sometimes with the thought of engaging my sisters in a system that is often oppressive to us (especially mothers).  My practical, mothering mind says, though, that this is what I've got to work with, and that my time and skills are valuable- I am an intelligent, gifted woman who wants to help others- and until we are set up in a different framework, I have to find someway to make my life sustainable now.  I just always feel like I have one foot in and one foot out with a lot of this stuff.

Oh, and to update, I got lazy with the emmenagogues.  I guess I just get to a point where I ultimately trust my body to do what it needs to do, instead of trying to control it or coerce it to doing something that's comforting or convenient.  That's what it's all about, anyway.