essentialmidwifery

Times like this drive us all right back to the basics—are we loving each other well enough?  Are we paying attention in the moments that we have our loved ones nearby?  Are we who we intended to be?  For mothers, all those nuero-receptors stuck in our guts and our hearts fire without their normal checks and balances.  For a brief moment at least we see our children through the eyes of the frailty of life and the unquenchable thirst of time.

And though my youngest is now a strapping man-sized child of 13, I just want to gather him in my arms and feel him close to me, to say nothing of my 18 year old who is on the other side of the world having a fabulous college experience. So why is it that when the world goes to pieces it is our arms that feel like the safest place to shelter our children?  Surely gathering everyone in a sturdily made bomb shelter outfitted with 20 or 30 years of supplies would be safer—but the gut and the heart call our children to our arms instead.

New mothers often struggle with questions of how to be “the best” kind of new mother.  We read books by the dozens, watch videos, attend classes, and subscribe to “parenting philosophies”.  We tumble from one to the next, constantly in search of the next better method to follow.  We could blame the internet or the smart phones, Amazon or the year 2013, but taking a brief tour through the history of parenting psychology shows us that we are not alone in these struggles.  Our American grandmothers struggled with all of the same issues—pamphlets and doctors and the neighbors all piped very loud messages into their ears and brains.  When I have the opportunity to talk with student and practicing midwives, it is a very rare occasion that I don’t quote Dr. Donald Winnicott (a protégé of Freud’s, who lived from 1896-1971) for one reason or another.  I love his sense of mother’s rights, of his trust in the mother as the best expert when it comes to her children, and his calming demeanor which shines through in his writing as he address mothers head-on.

Dr. Winnicott talks extensively and beautifully about what happens in the arms of a mother.  It seems like a crime to paraphrase too much, so indulge me as I quote him on this issue—a task I cannot do in real life without catching my voice and taking deep breaths.

“There is room for all kinds of mothers in this world.  And some will be good at one thing, and some will be good at another.

Or shall I say some will be bad at one thing and some bad at another?

Some are anxious holders.  It may be worth while looking even a little more closely at this business, because if you do handle your baby, well I want you to be able to know that you are doing something of importance.  This is a little part in the way in which you give a good foundation for the mental health of this new member of the community.”

He goes on to say that he could have chosen any topic at all to illustrate how wise and important mothers are, but he chose the seemingly menial task of holding babies to demonstrate his beliefs:

“You are specialists in this particular matter of care of your own children. I want to encourage you to keep and defend this specialist knowledge.  It cannot be taught.

Then you can go and learn from other specialists about more technical things  [like vaccines and vitamins]  But only if you keep what is natural in you is it safe for you to learn anything that doctors or nurses or others can teach you.”

It is in the holding of our own baby that we flourish as an expert—comfort in our arms is one of the primary needs of a newborn, and we provide that! It is in the holding of babies that we give them their sense of the world, of cause and effect, and the confidence to know that their one secure base is reliable and trustworthy.  They see themselves reflected in our regard for them.  They smell us and we smell them.  We bond deeply from this place of holding.  Our hearts are knocked together, beating in time with each other.  We breathe together in this position, and find comfort and desire to nurture here.  Our milk pulses downward towards their needy, growing, bodies. And as our eyes lock with theirs, we share intensely personal space with each other here.  As our children grow, they start to move away from our arms, but return for bonding, healing, and grounding throughout their lives.  We instinctively know to hold them—even as they become men or women, even as they have their own lives and connect with us in thousands of ways outside of our arms.  We know that we have done our best, deepest work in that small space which is the span of a couple dozen inches at the widest part.  Our children know that they gained their sense of safety and balance in those inches.  And that is why, even when they are grown, the original home-base is the one that calls us to each other with such fantastic eloquence and urgency.

As many of you have watched over the past month, I’ve been building the Essential Birth & Family Center bit by bit.  I grew up exposed to the life of entrepreneurship via my father and grandfather, and I’ve always had a love for business.  I do not, however have any formal training so much like Jane cut a mop to pieces to get the string she needed in Uganda, I’ve been pulling parts out of seemingly disconnected pieces to create a new and unique whole.  I’ve read a handful of business books, browsed the web late at night for innovative advice, and in the end I’ve just relied on my sense of what might work best.  I’m still learning, I’m not afraid to ask for help, and I recently became part of 5 student’s Capstone Project from Seattle University’s School of Business.  We had our first meeting this week and they asked me loads of great questions.  It provided me with the opportunity for reflection and goal-setting.  And I got to share my enthusiasm about the strength and capability of mothers and babies with college students—always a bonus.

This Center has long been a dream of mine—to have one place where families can connect with each other and the professionals who provide the services they want, to develop a sense of community around expecting and new families, and to change outcomes and access to quality, not just routine, care, in my neighborhood. In my mind’s eye, I thought I would make some phone calls, people would agree to teach a class or sublease a treatment room for a few hours or a day each week, and mothers would flock in to receive the benefits.  The reality proved to be one of the most meaningful experiences of my life.  Over the past 5 weeks I have met with dozens of professionals and parents.  We sit in the lovely Meeting Nook aka The Nursing Nook, and settle into the comfy chairs with some tea in one hand and a pen in the other.  I wanted to understand what services we might offer, what’s missing in our neighborhood, and how we can translate all of that into something meaningful for families.  We spent hours dreaming and refining, writing curricula, and sharing stories.  That Nook has some kind of special magic to it—it is so cathartic to sit there and connect with people.  I’ve had meetings with leaders of local birth organizations, a home organizer, a professional photographer, doulas, educators, business specialists, and a surprising number of grandparents and fathers of twenty-somethings.  It turns out, this idea of creating community around families makes sense to people.  Together, we’ve managed to create a dynamic offering for mothers, babies, and the people that love them.  We have classes covering everything from how to organize your house for baby, infant massage and photography, to babysitter’s training and grandparents classes.  We offer Friends and Family CPR—a simple two hour class designed to create comfort for anyone who spends time with babies or kids, and a beautiful class called Girl Sense—a seven week program for 8-9 year old girls.  We have the classics you would expect in a Birth and Family Center—childbirth education, postpartum drop-in and support groups, lactation classes and support, doula care, nutrition counseling, acupuncture, massage, and more.

As I struggled with how to create a group of doulas who can work out of the center, I met with doula trainers and new doulas and local doulas and finally, with Jane.  I was telling her about my struggle, “I deeply want to promote the work of local doulas–how can I recommend them if I don’t really know a lot about them?” We began to hash it out, the things we learned over the years through trial and error, acquisition of information, and sheer luck.  Before long we realized how great it would be to create an extended learning opportunity for newer doulas, or those that never had formal training.  And thusly was born The Essential Doula Training Academy—a year long course designed to delve into all of the issues that doulas face using the model we have adopted in our work lives. As we filled in the curriculum for the program, the conversation became more animated and passionate; we hit on something that we care deeply about.  We are thrilled to bring this resource to the community here.

In the end, what’s in a community is the people, their ideas and hopes for building a place to gather together and grow in our knowledge and support of each other.  I am so grateful for all of the people who have given me so much time and energy, and to those who have pledged theirs’ for the coming months to help launch this business.

I hope you’ll check out the website for Essential Birth & Family Center, and share it with your friends, family, colleagues, and clients.  Come by and visit me there—we are located in the heart of Seward Park just a few blocks south of PCC.  If you have ideas for classes, workshops, groups, or services come sit in The Meeting Nook and brainstorm with me—I have a great selection of tea and can’t wait to meet you there.

The Meeting / Nursing Nook

Welcome!