Waiting for the corn bread to be done and some weird-ass soup I made with random elderly vegetables and a can of black beans. As we roll around here.
A wee babe this morning around 5 AM. The mom called in the deepest part of the night and the deepest part of sleep. The kind of sleep you crawl out of, the sleep cave where your clan is snugged up next to you and all are warm and safe.
Duty calls so you climb out into the freezing bedroom and the even colder closet to find you birthin' clothes (the ones you can get goop on and it doesn't matter), those delicious wool socks, all your gear, phone, car keys etc to sit in the freezing car with the defroster going full blast while you scrape off the ice so you can see to drive across town.
Quiet highway, perfect time to be riding to a birth; no traffic, no cops, no drunks bumping the yellow line.
The babe comes quickly. Dad is so beautiful holding his girl to his chest. Sometimes we look away because it is too tender.
We go make some tea, clean up, get the mom to the shower so we can strip her bed and give her clean sheets, give our postpartum instructions and head out.
I take my crew to breakfast. It's the least I can do. We've eaten in some interesting places-the all nighters where the hookers and gangsters and late night hipsters go for a steak at 3 AM.
At home I find the electrician and the guys. There's still snow on the roof and ice everywhere so no roofers today. The electrician has recently married her girlfriend. I congratulate her and she tells me she knows someone I might like to date. Oy.
Ok, but I'm pretty good by myself up here on the hill, looking over the mountains and the lake, as long as I have a friend to call who can help me move the dresser or have a meal with me or hike the Cascades on the weekends.
And anyone I ever date who wants to hang around? The moms and babies come first. They always have. They always will. That's the deal with midwifery. That kind of service is hard for some to handle. And that's ok. I used to be puzzled by my lovers who got cranky with me as I ran off into the night. Now it's ok. It really is.
We midwives have a special job. And it's impossible to explain why we do it. It's what our hearts lead us to do. It heals us and maybe it heals the world.