Random Thoughts

I’ve been comfortable being me since I was very young. Never cared about being in with the “in” crowd and surprisingly (or maybe not) I was always pretty popular anyway.

Joseph Prince says people tend to judge others based on their actions but judge themselves based on their intentions, smh. We’ve got to do better at taking responsibility for our own actions and the part *we* play in our lives. That’s a hot mess!

There are people who are never wrong or at fault. Or when they are in fault, it’s only partially their fault, somehow, they’re still “the victim” in the situation.

Birth- seeing what I see as a doula and trying to process it.
People who say they want x kind of birth and then walk out of their home and get what they get.

People who keep themselves in bondage and look to others to pull them out. Then when they get some help, it’s temporary because they put themselves right back into that bondage again because they’ve not changed their way of thinking.

I experienced birth trauma as a birthing mother with my firstborn. After that experience I vowed it wouldn’t happen again and from then on, my babies were born outside the hospital.

I never imagined I’d still experience birth trauma via some of my clients’ births but unfortunately, it’s happened more than a few times.

Of course the birth belongs to the family involved and is their responsibility (whether they want that responsibility or not which is a whole other story) but when someone hires me as their doula and then they go on to experience some of the craziness that often accompanies obstetrics, I often wonder where I went wrong.
My business is called Empowered to Birth Naturally for a reason. My goal is and has always been to assist the woman who is after a normal/natural (unmedicated) birthing experience. This is the very woman the system is set up against and she’s the one I love to support.
I know some doulas scoff at that idea saying every woman who wants a doula should have one and deserves the support of a doula. Quite honestly I hold the same beliefs but I know I’m not the doula for every woman and I’m completely ok with that. If a woman knows right off that she wants drugs, that’s ok, it’s her birth, but I’m not the doula she should consider. I know where I serve best and I’m ok with staying in my “lane”.

Every once and a while we have the distinct pleasure to meet people who are willing to fight for themselves. One of my favorite births was with a young woman who knew that God created her body perfectly and she trusted this fact so much that what could have been a disastrous hospital birth (which started out as a planned HOMEbirth) was made (by her trust in God and the birthing process) a beautiful unassisted homebirth with no perinial tearing at all. AND this was her FIRST baby!

Like any mom, I love my babies so very much. They bring such joy and fun to my life that I have no clue what I’d be doing or who I’d be at this point if I’d never had them.
As a radical unschooler taking a very different path in life, I know all too well how my decisions have and can make others lash out in judgement and/or anger. It’s as if others who go about things traditionally or conventionally, can brag and have bumper stickers that say how proud they are of their honor roll student but if I mention what my unschooled girls are accomplishing, I’m bragging and it’s somehow in bad taste. I’m sure I’ll get many a disapproving snort when I put my bumper sticker on my new truck. It says, “My unschooled child will hire your honor roll student”.

Labels and credentials. I think they’re dumb. Really who cares? I always take notice in the obvious astonishment and change in attitude and behavior towards me when people find out something about me that they weren’t aware of or hear me sing. Sometimes it feels like they see me as some insignificant nothing until blah, blah about me is revealed. It doesn’t matter though. I know very well who I am, Whose I am and no man can define me as I’ve already been defined and have fully accepted the definition of the One who created me.

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