Manifestation

I'm overwhelmed.  

The blessing that came my way today is my sign, really the culmination of the task I've had at hand- pave way and open space for the gifts of the universe to unwrap themselves for me.  Over the past year I've had two major break ups (three if you count a business partner), I moved out of my first home, quit (and got fired from) a few jobs, stopped taking classes, and opened my heart.  I surrendered my sense of control, of beating my life into submission, and learned to just be.

You know what happened?  Pregnant moms started to call on me.

The Goddess (or who/whatever you will) made it unmistakably clear that serving the rite of birth is what I'm supposed to be doing.

People often wonder how I got into birth in the first place.  Well, my interest in women's health happened on accident- I went to Plan-It X Fest in 2006 where there was a workshop on self cervical exams put on by DC's Down There Health Collective.  I was blown away.  I went home from Bloomington with an arm full of zines, including Alicia non Grata's Take Back Yr Life and Hot Pantz.  That was how I first was introduced to herbs, the idea of inducing your own miscarriage, and not using tampons anymore.  I was 18 and it felt good to be a woman.  

When I moved to Denver, I had no inhibitions about teaching a free school class (if these ladies could do it, so could I!)  So for six months every week I taught a class called Positive Menstruation.  It was wonderful.  It resulted in the safest space I had ever been in, a lovely fluidity of topics from feminist spirituality to anatomy and physiology.   We talked so much about how not to get pregnant using the Fertility Awareness Method that it didn't occur to me (at age 20) that birth was part of this circle I was a part of.  I first learned what a doula was through my tribe of women there but I didn't feel called to that until I was pregnant myself.

All the while, in the back of my head, through births, talking with women about their most intimate details, getting emails asking me questions from what kind of vibrator to get to difficulties with arousal and heavy menstrual flow, receiving phone calls from women in crisis, and seeing a clear need for holistic, understanding, compassionate health care for women and their allies, I've had a dream of what my practice would look like.  How can I best serve people?  I need somewhere that people (women, genderqueers, and men) can come for workshops, to buy supplies, to receive consultations and services such as screenings and pregnancy tests.  I need somewhere to teach natural birth control, childbirth education, and herbal intensives.  And by somewhere I really have thought "something".  I just want this dream to turn into a thing.  To manifest.  I don't know if as my business, as a non-profit, or as a collective.  I just know that this is what I want to pour myself into and that there is a need for it.  

Today I was given a space for it.  

I have access to two beautiful yoga studios, plenty of storage space for educational materials and medical supplies, and the potential (if we grow) to move into an office space of my very own- one that I could see my clients in, do treatments in...  It's in a beautiful house which held a Buddhist temple there for the past several years.  The woman that owns it wants to see this happen (almost) as badly as I do.  I can't believe it.  I have to believe it.

So now the pressure is on.  If I don't make it happen, some karmic apocalypse will have me for dinner.  Lots of decisions to make, lots of energy to give to the design of this project.  

I need help.

I was a wanted mama

I've been thinking a little bit lately about abortion.


Laurel posted a great thread on Full Spectrum Doula Network about the emotional and mental realities of abortion entitled "Abortion as Perinatal Loss".  One of the other commenters said something poignant about how abortion can have the emotional repercussions of miscarriage.  And I've always thought that it's a damn shame that so many of the strong, in-tune women I know who have gotten abortions have swept the experience under the rug, seemingly afraid to admit the full spectrum of their emotions due to the fear of their emotional pain and physical healing being used against them by people who want to take away their rights and make them feel guilty about their decision.  Do I blame them?  Not necessarily.  I just think it's really fucking sad.


Also, I've been chatting with a good friend of mine about working with The Doula Project in NYC to get an abortion doula training here in the Midwest, something that this area desperately needs.  I see this work as incredibly valuable in light of the very thing I was just discussing- the emotional and mental realities of people who choose abortions. 


Maybe this would be the best time to disclose some very personal information.  I have, and always will be, pro-choice.  I am also anti-abortion.  This means I'm pro-everything-that-could-prevent-abortions, such as comprehensive sexuality, access to contraception and improved maternity care, as well as programs to end poverty and the subjugation of women.  I think abortion is a sad thing, that we should be working to minimize abortions, because they have no positive effect on a women's sexual health (dare I say a negative one) not to mention take place in a society ill-equipped to support the healing that must take place afterward.  Until all of those things are in place, it will sadden me that it must be integrated into modern womancare.  But I graciously offer all my support and love for any woman who chooses this, because she deserves it.


On the other hand, my partner was raised extremely pro-life.  We've talked and talked about this, and he agrees now that he is pro-choice, but also has such a deep-seated aversion to welcoming abortion into the norm of my work due to it's nature- or what he perceives as its nature.  And ultimately, I agree with him that the nature of abortion is that it's a hard decision nobody wants to have to make, yet he feels that it runs deeper than just that- that it's a loss- and it's hard because I don't exactly disagree with him.  It's just that his feelings on the subject are in the way of me moving forward with working as an abortion doula, and I want to respect his feelings but also want him to respect what I'm called to do.


What to do, what to do.  I am fierce when it comes to ladies' access to abortions, supporting them and their ability to make educated reproductive decisions for a lifetime.  I would NEVER question somebody's intent on having an abortion.  Yet today I saw a bumper sticker of a Mother Teresa quote that said "It is a poverty to decide that a child must die so you can live as you wish."  And it struck me with involuntary truth.  And maybe it's because of the crisis I had when I was pregnant, as a pro-choice woman, thinking, "This is a baby."  And knowing how relatively easy it's been to be a good mama to my baby despite my struggle to elicit support and resources.  But this is my privilege.  He was a wanted baby.  I was a wanted mama.

Lawmaker may propose cutting epidurals, C-sections from medicaid

A bit of a delayed response on this bit of news, but it's still worth sharing.  Lawmakers in Utah are considering a proposal to overhaul Medicaid, starting with cuts in the most interesting of places- epidurals and elective Cesareans.  The move would be an attempt to minimize the spending the state says it makes for out-of-state college students "freeloading" on Medicaid (because apparently Utah has an epidemic of pregnant college girls) since they might not technically be employed, yet still dependent on wealthy parents residing elsewhere.  However, despite there being examples of how the rates of these procedures go down when insurance refuses to pay the high price for them, the motivation of this particular move is troubling.  

I agree with the response this has incited that denying a woman an epidural she is desperate for based on her insurance provider is classist and totally misogynistic.  On the other hand, exclaiming epidurals an issue of choice just doesn't sit well with me.  I guess it's that old feminist line of thought that says we have the right to escape the pain of childbirth, as if the pain of birth was, in fact, meant to punish us for being women.  It's not going far enough for me.  The right to a healthy, normal, empowered birth is a feminist issue.  This argument to protect Medicaid-sponsored epi's reeks of the sentiment that lower class women aren't capable of a normal, non-intervened birth (which is suspiciously useful to the state- can you imagine if poor women everywhere started having supported, empowering births?  Watch out!)  I agree that women who are systematically denied education and resources contributes to the lack of informed consent, and therefor the cascade of interventions, which makes an epidural sound pretty nice.  But nobody here is talking about providing the women effected in this situation alternatives (such as implementing hospital midwifery programs, like this one, and this one).  They're just fighting to protect the epidural.

This is a classic case of a few bad apples spoiling the bunch, because sometimes an epidural can be a useful tool, not every college kid has wealthy parents, and the overwhelming majority of pregnant women on Medicaid are there for a damn good reason.  It's just disappointing for me to see that the biggest reaction to this has been so unimaginative and classically self-blaming.  We should really be taking this opportunity to talk about how to empower the women this would effect, to look at the evidence, and try to create something positive out of a poorly motivated, yet opportunistic, change.  The question here should be, "Do we need the epidural?"