September, I'll remember

There are 2 starts to each year. New Years Day of course and Back-to-school. I love the fresh start that autumn brings, a return to wearing socks and falling into a routine.

Earth House tribe continues to swell. I know these days of noise and young energy will pass, so today I am grateful for What Is. Carson started a new school.  He now attends Copper Canyon with his cousins. That means school bus adventures. 

Dear World,

Be kind to this boy.

Tomorrow Presley starts orchestra, picks up ballet and will most likely grow another inch!

Kody starts his new job. 6:30AM!

Sage starts preschool! 

I give thanks for all of it. I deeply love the people I live with and the cooperative spirit that provides our drum beat. Marching into September with hope and happiness. And new socks!

and yet perfect among mornings

 The Pearl is one of my most loved stories.  Its like scripture. The message adapts to nourish me in whatever hungry place I find myself.  Interestingly, it wasn't even on my radar when I chose the name Pearl Midwifery. It's time to take a meditative pause and reread this book. I was reminded of something this morning in a stunning, tender way.
To self:  Please dear midwife, remember who you are and what sacred trust has been placed in your hands and heart.
Be grateful for all that you have been given and radiate your light. Prepare to be taught by the humble ones.

Little Light Beings

Stelly. 
Sagey.
Oli.
They are strong ladies, these baby girls of mine.  Mine.
I think I'm going to have  GrammyCat Camp. They have so much to teach me!

spaced out

Imperfectly perfect. 
This space of mine.  
My work day started early. It was everything that makes it work. Not enough sleep, tight schedule, fax reports lost in cyberspace, spilled water bottle on my charts, forgot to eat and left the blood draw tubes on my desk.
I yelled at myself in the car. Then I settled enough to pray out loud. 
"Calm my heart.  Calm my mind. Calm this body and make me strong."
The work morphed into joy.  It always does. 
First, SaraLove. smiling in the slushy snow. She jumped into the backseat behind me (spilled water bottle still on the front seat!) and we laughed at the sight of us speeding in the Mini. 
First appointment.  Almost 3 year old comes running in her pink leotard and announces that today her name is Big Sister Mulan. Prenatal ended with her laying her ear on top of mom's 23 week baby belly, wide eyed, telling us what wee brother was saying.  Dad packed us some scones for the road and we were off. 
Next appointment. 16 weeker hid from my doppler. Mom laughed about something and I told her laughing was not permitted.  That was all it took. We were all laughing so hard. Dad and jammied toddler too. I found the heartbeat and all was well.
Off to Eagle Mountain.  Our "mom" met us on the porch, smiles and hugs.  In 10 weeks she'll birth her 9th child, a girl already named.  Eden. Mom still looks like a radiant schoolgirl.  Love does that to a person and this house is full to the brim with Love.  We laughed about Primary kids and dogs and nurses that think babies will drown if water is not broken before birth.  More hugs and some treats for my Georgie dog from her Leo dog. Back on the road.
Fourth appointment. We have grown to love this woman, her man and their dog, Steve. So much! Within a couple of weeks she will be born as a mother. She's getting scared, wonders if she'll be strong enough.  We assure her that she will be, that we will help her. She asks how.  "I will look in your eyes and breathe with you and remind you when you forget, that this will be worth it." She calmed. Visibly. We left her and Steve snuggled under blankets on the couch.
That was the first half of my day.
Bye Sara.  Hello BeckiZen!
We had an official 2 hour  peer review disguised as lunch at Squatters. BZ is a midwife now. We had a million things to catch up on, funniest stories ever and were still not done when our time was up. Was it really 6 years ago when we started our adventures?
I finished the day up by myself.  2 more home visits. 2 more baby bellies. 2 of the sweetest mamas. 2 baby boys that will be born very close together.
Six women and their families shared their spaces with me today. Their trust humbles me. So much.
Is there such a thing as content exhaustion? That's how I would describe me heading westward during rush hour.  Heading home. So happy. So tired.  So ready for my own space to receive me.
Here it is.  
Everyone is asleep. The tea is good.  Spotify "discovered" a playlist just for me. The salt lamp glows.
I'm going to review these charts (They are finally dry!). Then I will simmer here in gratitude for as long as my eyes can stay open. This midwife was fed today with the things that matter most.  

Approaching Crone-hood

I'm blogging again.  Seems I've entered an introspective, deeply humble phase. As my thoughts find words, I miss this outlet.  Seriously.  I need a place to release and untangle the stuff that swims in my brain and heart or else.
Firstly, I am in love.  With so many people and so many places and the RareWolf dog of mine called "Georgie."
Secondly, I swing from feeling powerful and content with my parts like family, work and all, to feeling deeply inadequate and helpless. What does that mean? 
I cry easily and laugh deeply. 
I'm in a vulnerable place most of the time and an invincible place some of the time.
I wonder about my character when the best I can come up with for New Year's intentions is to shave my legs more often and grocery shop with a list. 
I miss the people of my heart that I can't see.  I long to hold them and hear them. So much that I feel my heart being squeezed. So hard that I can barely breathe. 
I'm sure that if I could just see Tracy Chapman and Eddie Vedder shows that I would want for nothing else, ever.
Then there's this terrible truth starting to seep in: I can't feed all of the hungry ones. Can't assure every mama that her babe will be gently welcomed. That panics me. If not me, then who? 
And then I come across this picture. Pretty little thing.  Faelin. Her family floated into my life and we all made a big difference to each other.  For good. For peace. I remember the ripple effect and realize that is what I can do.  Spark a bit of loving  joy and sit back.
I'll pray my life out loud. Thanking and asking.
There.