I will admit; I caught the writers block. Sorry about that. I also caught 17 babies since we last spoke, so don’t feel completely guilty for stringing you along.
But, (but!) I am almost finished walking this long road of becoming a midwife. Four more days, two eight-hour exams, and this part of the journey closes off for good. This path of focus where two days of snow-shoeing, or a quick ski jaunt up-island, or tea with a good friend feels like the most delicious luxury in the entire world.
Midwifery school forces one to compromise. The idea that midwifery is not a job, but a lifestyle, sounded romantic when I applied to the program. It was tough to execute. I struggled. I struggle still. It was especially tough on the people around me who had to learn with me to accept this new unpredictable pattern of life. But this act of being in the moment- of making the sacrifice of knowing that at any second you may have to run fast from your lover’s arms or away from your best friend who needs you- to answer the call of birthing women in the depth of the night (some weeks all the nights), makes one strong. I am grateful for how midwifery forced me to solidify, to throw out everything that wasn’t central to survival, to trust my own wisdom and intuition. For this I am so grateful, and so happy. Grateful for all those beautiful babes born into my arms, and lucky for this work of supporting women and families to make informed choices into parenthood that work best for them.