What do you feel like when you come home from a day of work? Tired? Energized? Cranky? Cuddly?
When I come home from a day (or more) of being with a laboring mom I feel like I’ve been in another world. A world where life and death hang in the balance. A world where lives are changed dramatically and forever. A world where women and their partners exhibit amazing feats of endurance and remain exquisitely beautiful as they negotiate decisions in the throes of great physical and emotional strain. I bond with these people as if we’ve been in a war zone together, hanging on to each other for dear life.
That may sound awfully dramatic, but in those moments it sometimes feels that real.
And given all of that drama, it’s impossible to just reintegrate to normal life. I know that birth happens every day–it’s mundane in that sense–but when you have just witnessed The Miracle of Life it doesn’t shake off easily.
I was talking to a doula friend who said that she’s uncomfortable with this transition period. She wants to be able to flip a switch and go back to her normal routine. But she can’t. She’s working on how to reconcile this emotional dilemma of how she thinks she should feel versus how she actually feels. In the mean time, she just lives with that uncomfortable feeling until it fades away and things start to feel normal again.
For me, after 4 years of doing this work, the post-birth “syndrome” is predictable and recognizable. It has two sides. On one side I am in love with the world and everyone in it and truly grateful for the most important things in my life–my family. I live in the moment and take joy in things like baking a big batch of granola for the family or cleaning the kitchen. But on the other side I am incredibly vulnerable. I have a hard time tolerating grouchiness or bickering, especially if it is directed at me. Sometimes little things will make me break into tears. And I look around at people honking at a bad driver or venting about a co-worker and I think, “Why? Why spend your energy on this when there is so much to be happy for?” I appreciate this feeling. Sure, it makes me a little moodier (this is where I apologize to my husband), but it routinely humbles me, reminding me to take nothing for granted.
Death has the same effect on people that are close to it. Two bombs exploded yesterday near the finish line of the Boston marathon. Three are dead and many others are wounded. My heart goes out to the victims, their families, and those who just narrowly missed being in the path of the blast. I often feel powerless after events such as these. What can you do? But where I find my power is knowing that in the face of great pain we often find great strength. Those who survive will be reminded not to take their lives and their loved ones for granted. Those who have lost loved ones will hopefully find healing by finding ways every day to love, honor and remember the one they lost. Boston, pull your loved ones in close, give kindness, compassion and casseroles. Take nothing for granted.
And to all my doula clients past, present and yet to come, I thank you. I thank you for the chance to support you, for the chance to be a part of your life at such a critical time, and most of all, for the consistent reminder that life is amazing, fragile and beautiful.