MotherWit Postpartum Doula Training
MotherWit Doula Care is pleased to present a comprehensive training in holistic postpartum doula care.
In a culture that puts a lot of pressure on new mothers to live up to the mythical image of SuperMom, a MotherWit Postpartum Doula has the power to bring a sane, calm perspective. We believe in nurturing the new mother so all she has to do in the precious few weeks after birth is focus on her new baby/babies and her loved ones.
Full healing of everything a woman has gone through during the childbearing year requires some space and reflection. By providing opportunities for rest and proper physical and emotional nourishment, the MotherWit Postpartum Doula creates a special space within which a woman who has just given birth and her partner can heal and come into their own power as a mother and father.
We like to call this space the BabyMoon.
As a MotherWit Postpartum Doula Trainee, you will learn the following:
good listening skills: new mothers need to share their birth stories and discuss the intense
emotions that becoming a mother brings up
proper physical and emotional care of the postpartum mother, with focus on nutrition and safe,
natural remedies to soothe a variety of common complaints, such as breast engorgement,perineal discomfort, fatigue, etc.
how to provide education about attachment style parenting, and give non judgmental support
for new parents' choices
basic baby care such as bathing, diapering, baby-wearing, swaddling, etc.
how to provide basic breastfeeding support, and how to know when to call in a lactation consultant
how to recognize signs of postpartum depression
how to help with basic organization of a home with a new baby
how to support a mother with multiples, and how to engage older children
....and much much more!
This training will either be a 4 day intensive.
Cost:
$850.00 total -this is $700 for the 4 day training, plus $150 for your apprenticeship...all costs include
taxes.
MotherWit Doula Care looks forward to offering this training in Spring
For more info please contact info@MotherWit.ca
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
MotherWit vous propose des cours prénataux en français dès le mois de septembre 2010, à Montréal.
Cours Prénataux MotherWit
Les Essentiels de la Naissance
Les cours prénataux Les Essentiels de la Naissance, offerts par
MotherWit Doula Care, visent à vous préparer à la naissance de
votre bébé, ou bébés, et à votre nouveau rôle de parents. Pour
obtenir de l’information sur l’accouchement, la majorité de futurs
parents participeront à des cours prénataux traditionnels donnés un
hôpital ou une clinique.
Ces cours ont tendance à présenter le travail comme un événement
qui suit un rythme prédéterminé, et décrivent la façon dont
l’hôpital prend en charge la mère et le bébé. L’emphase est mis sur
les chiffres (les contractions, la dilatation…) qui servent à
déterminer le progrès du travail ; la mère et l’expérience qu’elle est
en train de vivre sont des éléments secondaires. Il y a peu
d’instruction pratique pour doter les parents d’outils leur
permettant de faire face aux sensations du travail.
Les accompagnantes à la naissance sont de véritables mines d'or
d'informations à partager au sujet du travail et de l’accouchement.
Nous demeurons aux cotés de la mère pendant toute la durée de
son expérience, jusqu’à la naissance de son bébé. N’ayant aucune
responsabilité médicale vis à vis de nos clients, nous sommes
libres d’observer et de soutenir. Lors de nos observations, nous
avons appris beaucoup de choses à propos de l'accouchement que
vous ignorez peut-être, et nous observons même des choses avec
lesquelles le personnel médical a peu d’expérience. Par exemple,
comment soutenir effectivement une femme en travail sans la
péridurale. Chez les mères qui accouchent pour la première fois, le
taux de recours à la péridurale est de 98%. Ces chiffres ne sont pas
forcément représentatifs des désirs des couples par rapport à la
naissance de leur bébé. Souvent, une femme choisira la péridurale
car elle et son partenaire se sont sentis démunis face aux sensations
qui accompagnent le travail et n’étaient pas suffisamment pas
préparés à l’événement de par la simple lecture de livres sur le
sujet.
Il est de notre avis que les cours prénataux Les Essentiels de la
Naissance vous donneront les outils qui vous permettront de faire
des choix éclairés par rapport à cet événement si important. Plutôt
que de nous concentrer sur les “plans” de naissance, nous
encourageons une attitude ouverte et équilibrée afin de faire face
aux inattendus qui font partie de l’accouchement. Nous mettons
l’emphase sur la pertinence de l’observation et le besoin de
regarder la femme en travail versus la montre.
Les accompagnantes de MotherWit sont convaincues que la
plupart des femmes sont capables de mettre au monde leurs bébés
avec un minimum d’intervention à moins qu’une situation
particulière n’exige autrement. Nous souhaitons vous aider à
trouver votre sagesse intérieure, une sagesse qui a permis à des
milliers de générations de femmes d’accoucher. Nous prenons le
temps de discuter de vos soucis par rapport à la naissance, et de les
valider. Selon nous, la meilleure éducation consiste à présenter les
différents choix et à respecter les décisions que vous prenez avec
votre professionnel de la santé (médecin ou sage-femme). Bien
que notre objectif soit de vous donner la confiance d’accoucher
naturellement si vous le souhaitez, et si les circonstances en sont
favorables, nous soutenons pleinement vos propres choix.
Les cours prénataux MotherWit Les Essentiels de la Naissance
sont une série de cinq cours de deux heures et demie chacun qui
ont lieu le soir, une fois par semaine durant cinq semaines. Les
cours sont donnés par des accompagnantes à la naissance et aux
relevailles expérimentées. Les cours sont destinés aux femmes et
aux couples, peu importe leur situation. Une mère qui accouchera
sans la présence d’un partenaire peut venir avec une personne de
soutien si elle le désire. Le meilleur moment pour participer aux
cours prénataux est autour de la 25ième semaine de grossesse. Des
cours privés à domicile sont aussi disponibles (cours en format
condensé).
Coût pour les cours de groupe: 250$ par couple – 12.5 heures de
formation en groupe
Coût pour les cours privés (format condensé): 400$ par couple -
environs 8 heures de formation individuelle en trois séances (ou
deux séances intensives).
Tous les participants des cours prénataux MotherWit Les
Essentiels de la Naissance sont les bienvenus dans nos soirées de
rencontre MotherWit. Venez partager vos histoires de naissance,
rencontrer d’autres parents et découvrir les ressources de votre
communauté.
Descriptif des cours:
1er Cours: Votre Corps et l’Accouchement Normal
la naissance aujourd’hui, le reflet de notre culture
nourrir le corps et l’esprit pendant la grossesse
anatomie et physiologie de l’accouchement
les signes annonciateurs du travail
le travail – à quoi ça ressemble, qu'est-ce qu'on ressent ?
mettre au monde votre bébé
le rôle du partenaire
2ème Cours: Faire des Choix
quoi apporter au lieu de naissance prévu ?
quand partir pour le lieu de naissance prévu ?
une fois arrivée, que se passe-t-il ?
procédures médicales de routine et interventions pendant
l’accouchement: les avantages, les risques, les alternatives
défis rencontrés lors du travail et de l'accouchement
3ème Cours: Comment Agir Face à Votre Travail
ne pas vous préparer à la réalité de la douleur, une piège à
éviter
la valeur inestimable de la douleur normale du travail
comment gérer vos attentes
comment déterminer le moyen par lequel vous arrivez à passer
à travers la douleur
affrontez la douleur du travail avec la respiration, la
visualisation, le mouvement, l’alimentation, le repos et les
changements de position
encourager un positionnement optimal du foetus
4ème Cours: La Douleur (suite), Préparation Émotionnelle au
Travail, Fondements de l’Allaitement Maternel
la théorie du portillon (Gate Theory of Pain Inhibition) mis en
pratique – massage de la mère
encourager la détente
les femmes enceintes: exploration de vos craintes par rapport
à l’accouchement avec la visualisation guidée et l’art
partenaires: quelles sont vos craintes ?
jeux de rôle
l’allaitement mené par la demande du bébé
5ème Cours: L’Allaitement (suite), la Période Postpartum, le
Rôle de Parent
défis fréquents de l’allaitement et comment dépister un
problème
la famille pendant le période postpartum
questions fréquentes sur les nouveau-nés
prendre soin du couplePublish Post
un entourage qui prend soin de vous
Les cours débuteront le lundi 13 septembre à 19h00 chez Materni-T, 3289 Saint-Jacques O, Montréal de 19h00 à 21h30. Pour plus d'informations, appelez-nous au 514-569-5878
info@MotherWit.ca
Countdown to Madagascar
Finally, this trip to Madagascar I've been dreaming of for a few years is just on the horizon. The itinerary is solidified, the workshops on keeping oneself and one's environment healthy, family planning, breastfeeding, and training for midwives are being worked on, the last of the midwifery equipment and supplies are going to be bought on Friday, and updates on the political situation in Tana, the capital, being given to us by our friends (Karen and Mitch) there. Karen, who came up with the idea for this event, as well as planned and coordinated the entire thing in between tandem nursing, teaching university, and doing hardcore paleontology expeditions on the beaches and in the forests of Madagascar, not to mention planning a move to Australia (did I mention Karen and her husband Mitch are some of the most remarkable people ever?), has been in Madagascar the past few months and has let me know that the women and midwives of the Taratra group are excited for our arrival. This, of course, just stokes my own excitement.
I have my raincoat, camping mattress, back pack, warm sleeping bag (it gets to freezing at night there this time of year), and every homeopathic diarrhea remedy known to man. I've had my hepatitis A shot, and was very kindly given some malaria pills by my fellow MotherWittie Steph who had some left over from her travels in Africa. Every available bit of free space we (Sarah and Deborah, the other Canadian members of Taratra) have will be packed up with warm clothes to give away to children and adults in Mahatsinjo, the area in which we'll be spending most of our time. We have also had a request for Elizabeth Taylor perfume (not sure for whom, but hey, everyone should have some something fancy to feel good, even if they live or work in a rain forest) and dental floss. We're also bringing some bubbles for the kids there to blow (apparently they LOVE blowing bubbles, and it's a real treat), and a couple of soccer balls (deflated, of course) for the kids to play with.
I know that when we get there (after a flight to Paris, a layover for a few hours, then a 10 hour flight to Madagascar), we will be met by Karen and Mitch and go to the house they rent just outside of the capital. The next day, we will drive for several hours as far as a car can take us to our destination, then probably hike a couple of hours to the site. If the weather allows, we will go visit some lemurs, and be introduced to the four midwives. The next few days will be spent holding workshops, taking down some data, getting a sense of what is wanted/needed and the best way to help, hopefully creating an infrastructure for easy follow up and future visits. Back in the capital, we'll scour the souvenir market, and Sarah and I will be hunting down tons of essential oils (Madagascar is famous for their amazing oils) and interesting homeopathic remedies. We'll have dinner with Mitch and Karen at their favourite Chinese restaurant, then we'll grab our flight home.
Sarah, Deb, and I decided to pay for a 24 hour stopover in Paris, another place I've never been. Our plan is just to walk around the entire time and soak it all in. If we're stopping there anyway, we might as well travel 'til that travel bug is spent. Then we'll come home.
I am beside myself with excitement for the entire experience, but there are a few things in particular which fill me with the most anticipation. One, is the knowledge that I'll get to sit around and chit chat with the Malagasy midwives (with the help of an interpreter). If all the midwives speak a bit of French, we can get by with that, but if not, we'll need help communicating with each other. These ladies have attended TONS of births, all at home, obviously, and I can only imagine what kind of knowledge they have. They have asked for some hands on technical training for difficult situations, as well as for some basic information that will help them immensely in their work. It definitely feels good to be able to contribute to that. But I know I'm going to be awestruck by these Rainforest midwives and many aspects of their customs, beliefs, and intuitions surrounding the birth process. I can only imagine the inventive things these women have come up with in challenging situations. My sense is that they probably have some pretty amazingly developed motherwit. One of the midwives Karen has told me about is named Ratine. She is a tiny lady who is a total hoot. She literally collapses onto the ground with laughter. Ah, midwives...they are probably riot grrrls everywhere you go.
Another thing I am looking forward to is the newness of this experience. I have never done anything remotely like this. My family is a little worried about me, worried that something might happen and I'll be so far away from "civilization". But to be honest, when I think of my being on the edge of the Rainforest in the depths of Madagascar, I don't feel afraid. Truly, the thing I'm most afraid of is a bad stomach. But even if that does happen, I'll be okay. We will have some Cipro available if things get out of control, and there is apparently a really good first aid kit in the camp to treat infections, some injuries, and stomach bugs. Deb is a family doctor, so I figure her knowledge and skills will be a great resource if anyone is sick or hurt (providing it isn't her). In an area as truly remote as this, probably nobody is going to get hit by a car, be a victim of a crime, or fall out of a window. There are apparently no major poisonous creepy crawlies to worry about, and there are no man eating predators around, so unless there's some kind of lemur uprising, I think we're good. If there is a major emergency, there is a satellite phone at the camp. Karen and Mitch bring their young daughters there, and all feel very healthy and strong when they spend months at the camp, eating simple rice, beans, veggies, and whatever fruit is in season, and getting a lot of exercise, fresh air, and rest. Getting a break from city noise and electricity is pretty healing too.
I am SO happy to be going with friends. Sarah and I are close. We are friends who have attended each others' births and have attended some seriously far out, crazy, intense and amazing births together. You're pretty much sisters at that point. I have been a doula for quite a few of Deborah's patients, and I feel we have absolutely glorious birth team chemistry. The more I've had the opportunity to hang out with her as we prepare for the trip, the more I see what a generous, compassionate, smart, funny lady she is. When Karen asked for my help in choosing a doctor for our team, she was the first I thought of, and she agreed right away when I asked her. She clicked easily with Karen, Sarah, and me, and I am just so happy she's on board. I have attended the births of Karen and Mitch's daughters, and I have loved them since the first time I met them. So while we all be doing important work, it will be immensely fun too. Knowing I can announce, "Oh, man, stop the hike for a sec, I think I have the runs!" or sniffle because I'm missing my husband, kids, and dog so much, and that there will be support and good humour, makes me feel very safe indeed.
But I think what stands out in my dreams of Madagascar the most right now is the sky. I can only imagine looking up at that sky at night, miles and miles away from any electricity and major roads, and being able to see STARS. I can't fathom the profound, car-less, electrical hum-less silence that must exist in the space between and surround the night sounds of the forest. I cannot even conceive of the smells of the air and the earth.
If you'd like to read more about Karen and Mitch's work in Madagascar, and/or would like to make a donation to Sadabe, please visit www.sadabe.org
I promise, Friends, to take as many photos as possible and blog whenever I can, though it probably won't be until I get home.
MotherWitties Millie and Steph are going to meet next week to conceive of a grant request for us MotherWit doulas to one day go to Peru, where Millie's brother is a neonatologist. Millie is passionate about learning about the birthing culture and experiences of the women there (Millie being of Peruvian descent) and facilitating an expedition for us to learn and to teach. She relayed a scene her brother witnessed of a traditional midwife holding a woman in a supported squat. The midwife was vocalizing very harshly and strongly. The birthing woman would respond in a big yell. Back and forth they shouted. To Millie's brother, it looked as if the midwife was yelling violently at the lady in her care. But the baby emerged gently. When the midwife was asked, "Why were you yelling like that?" she answered, "I was healing that woman!" This midwife was very connected to the emotional pain the birthing woman had experienced in her life, especially aware of the energy of the pain surrounding the death of the woman's mother. The midwife was yelling for all the tension to dissipate. And it worked. She was probably very aware of the vibrations of her tones and where they would resonate in the woman's body, and that the ferocity of her sounds gave the woman permission and strength to release. This story was so powerful to me. Women who work with birth are so rich in amazing knowledge that I feel insatiable in my desire to learn from them.
As doulas, we are committed to reconnecting women to and supporting their motherwit. Having the opportunity to go to different lands and learn from other birth attendants gives us new and wider perspective, allowing us to bring so much back to help heal this culture. And our knowledge of the really positive aspects of birth in this culture can help others in theirs too.
Blessings to birth attending sisters everywhere. Blessings to the midwives under the Malagasy sky. Blessings to the Peruvian birth healing women. Blessings to my doula sister Rivka in Italy. Blessings to my doula friends in New Brunswick. Blessing to my doula students past and present, scattered around the globe (from Portland USA to Benin Africa). Blessings to my Facebook doula buddies from near and far. Love to all of you everywhere.
I will be back in mid September with lots of stories to tell. Stay tuned, and be well.
Lesley
The lady on the far left with the curly hair is Sarah Roberts, who just returned from Mahatsinjo where she hung out with Karen and her family, and spent her days facilitating games, fun activities, and educational opportunities for the area's many children. The lady with the baby in red is my friend Sarah, who is a US trained birth attendant who practices in Texas. The next lady with the child is Karen. The two ladies at the end are Marie-Maude and Renee, owners and operators of Melons and Clementines. They were kind enough to let us use their lovely space to hold our silent auction to raise funds for our project. And the two small people in front are Deborah (in pink) and me. We are bending our knees a little, but yes, we are teeny. So now that you have an image of us, send us prayers for a safe and fruitful trip. Thanks!
I have my raincoat, camping mattress, back pack, warm sleeping bag (it gets to freezing at night there this time of year), and every homeopathic diarrhea remedy known to man. I've had my hepatitis A shot, and was very kindly given some malaria pills by my fellow MotherWittie Steph who had some left over from her travels in Africa. Every available bit of free space we (Sarah and Deborah, the other Canadian members of Taratra) have will be packed up with warm clothes to give away to children and adults in Mahatsinjo, the area in which we'll be spending most of our time. We have also had a request for Elizabeth Taylor perfume (not sure for whom, but hey, everyone should have some something fancy to feel good, even if they live or work in a rain forest) and dental floss. We're also bringing some bubbles for the kids there to blow (apparently they LOVE blowing bubbles, and it's a real treat), and a couple of soccer balls (deflated, of course) for the kids to play with.
I know that when we get there (after a flight to Paris, a layover for a few hours, then a 10 hour flight to Madagascar), we will be met by Karen and Mitch and go to the house they rent just outside of the capital. The next day, we will drive for several hours as far as a car can take us to our destination, then probably hike a couple of hours to the site. If the weather allows, we will go visit some lemurs, and be introduced to the four midwives. The next few days will be spent holding workshops, taking down some data, getting a sense of what is wanted/needed and the best way to help, hopefully creating an infrastructure for easy follow up and future visits. Back in the capital, we'll scour the souvenir market, and Sarah and I will be hunting down tons of essential oils (Madagascar is famous for their amazing oils) and interesting homeopathic remedies. We'll have dinner with Mitch and Karen at their favourite Chinese restaurant, then we'll grab our flight home.
Sarah, Deb, and I decided to pay for a 24 hour stopover in Paris, another place I've never been. Our plan is just to walk around the entire time and soak it all in. If we're stopping there anyway, we might as well travel 'til that travel bug is spent. Then we'll come home.
I am beside myself with excitement for the entire experience, but there are a few things in particular which fill me with the most anticipation. One, is the knowledge that I'll get to sit around and chit chat with the Malagasy midwives (with the help of an interpreter). If all the midwives speak a bit of French, we can get by with that, but if not, we'll need help communicating with each other. These ladies have attended TONS of births, all at home, obviously, and I can only imagine what kind of knowledge they have. They have asked for some hands on technical training for difficult situations, as well as for some basic information that will help them immensely in their work. It definitely feels good to be able to contribute to that. But I know I'm going to be awestruck by these Rainforest midwives and many aspects of their customs, beliefs, and intuitions surrounding the birth process. I can only imagine the inventive things these women have come up with in challenging situations. My sense is that they probably have some pretty amazingly developed motherwit. One of the midwives Karen has told me about is named Ratine. She is a tiny lady who is a total hoot. She literally collapses onto the ground with laughter. Ah, midwives...they are probably riot grrrls everywhere you go.
Another thing I am looking forward to is the newness of this experience. I have never done anything remotely like this. My family is a little worried about me, worried that something might happen and I'll be so far away from "civilization". But to be honest, when I think of my being on the edge of the Rainforest in the depths of Madagascar, I don't feel afraid. Truly, the thing I'm most afraid of is a bad stomach. But even if that does happen, I'll be okay. We will have some Cipro available if things get out of control, and there is apparently a really good first aid kit in the camp to treat infections, some injuries, and stomach bugs. Deb is a family doctor, so I figure her knowledge and skills will be a great resource if anyone is sick or hurt (providing it isn't her). In an area as truly remote as this, probably nobody is going to get hit by a car, be a victim of a crime, or fall out of a window. There are apparently no major poisonous creepy crawlies to worry about, and there are no man eating predators around, so unless there's some kind of lemur uprising, I think we're good. If there is a major emergency, there is a satellite phone at the camp. Karen and Mitch bring their young daughters there, and all feel very healthy and strong when they spend months at the camp, eating simple rice, beans, veggies, and whatever fruit is in season, and getting a lot of exercise, fresh air, and rest. Getting a break from city noise and electricity is pretty healing too.
I am SO happy to be going with friends. Sarah and I are close. We are friends who have attended each others' births and have attended some seriously far out, crazy, intense and amazing births together. You're pretty much sisters at that point. I have been a doula for quite a few of Deborah's patients, and I feel we have absolutely glorious birth team chemistry. The more I've had the opportunity to hang out with her as we prepare for the trip, the more I see what a generous, compassionate, smart, funny lady she is. When Karen asked for my help in choosing a doctor for our team, she was the first I thought of, and she agreed right away when I asked her. She clicked easily with Karen, Sarah, and me, and I am just so happy she's on board. I have attended the births of Karen and Mitch's daughters, and I have loved them since the first time I met them. So while we all be doing important work, it will be immensely fun too. Knowing I can announce, "Oh, man, stop the hike for a sec, I think I have the runs!" or sniffle because I'm missing my husband, kids, and dog so much, and that there will be support and good humour, makes me feel very safe indeed.
But I think what stands out in my dreams of Madagascar the most right now is the sky. I can only imagine looking up at that sky at night, miles and miles away from any electricity and major roads, and being able to see STARS. I can't fathom the profound, car-less, electrical hum-less silence that must exist in the space between and surround the night sounds of the forest. I cannot even conceive of the smells of the air and the earth.
If you'd like to read more about Karen and Mitch's work in Madagascar, and/or would like to make a donation to Sadabe, please visit www.sadabe.org
I promise, Friends, to take as many photos as possible and blog whenever I can, though it probably won't be until I get home.
MotherWitties Millie and Steph are going to meet next week to conceive of a grant request for us MotherWit doulas to one day go to Peru, where Millie's brother is a neonatologist. Millie is passionate about learning about the birthing culture and experiences of the women there (Millie being of Peruvian descent) and facilitating an expedition for us to learn and to teach. She relayed a scene her brother witnessed of a traditional midwife holding a woman in a supported squat. The midwife was vocalizing very harshly and strongly. The birthing woman would respond in a big yell. Back and forth they shouted. To Millie's brother, it looked as if the midwife was yelling violently at the lady in her care. But the baby emerged gently. When the midwife was asked, "Why were you yelling like that?" she answered, "I was healing that woman!" This midwife was very connected to the emotional pain the birthing woman had experienced in her life, especially aware of the energy of the pain surrounding the death of the woman's mother. The midwife was yelling for all the tension to dissipate. And it worked. She was probably very aware of the vibrations of her tones and where they would resonate in the woman's body, and that the ferocity of her sounds gave the woman permission and strength to release. This story was so powerful to me. Women who work with birth are so rich in amazing knowledge that I feel insatiable in my desire to learn from them.
As doulas, we are committed to reconnecting women to and supporting their motherwit. Having the opportunity to go to different lands and learn from other birth attendants gives us new and wider perspective, allowing us to bring so much back to help heal this culture. And our knowledge of the really positive aspects of birth in this culture can help others in theirs too.
Blessings to birth attending sisters everywhere. Blessings to the midwives under the Malagasy sky. Blessings to the Peruvian birth healing women. Blessings to my doula sister Rivka in Italy. Blessings to my doula friends in New Brunswick. Blessing to my doula students past and present, scattered around the globe (from Portland USA to Benin Africa). Blessings to my Facebook doula buddies from near and far. Love to all of you everywhere.
I will be back in mid September with lots of stories to tell. Stay tuned, and be well.
Lesley
The lady on the far left with the curly hair is Sarah Roberts, who just returned from Mahatsinjo where she hung out with Karen and her family, and spent her days facilitating games, fun activities, and educational opportunities for the area's many children. The lady with the baby in red is my friend Sarah, who is a US trained birth attendant who practices in Texas. The next lady with the child is Karen. The two ladies at the end are Marie-Maude and Renee, owners and operators of Melons and Clementines. They were kind enough to let us use their lovely space to hold our silent auction to raise funds for our project. And the two small people in front are Deborah (in pink) and me. We are bending our knees a little, but yes, we are teeny. So now that you have an image of us, send us prayers for a safe and fruitful trip. Thanks!
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
The "Can do no Right" Doula Blues
We have talked about the phenomenon of "doulas behaving badly". I have brought up a few things about doula work to try to help us be understood a little better by medical professionals. Now I wanna sing the blues. The truth is, more often than not, doulas who behave conscientiously still get their share of berating. It's true that those who behave badly can create or exacerbate prejudice for our work, but the reality remains that sometimes we're hated on sight simply because of who we are. Our very presence does tend to evoke thoughts of "Are you here to challenge my authority?" in some caregivers. But instead of asking questions or trying to come to a place of understanding, what can happen are knee jerk reactions. Personal attacks, even. I have beseeched doulas to do their part in playing nice and have explained the nature of our work so caregivers will hopefully feel a bit more at ease with us. This doesn't mean I expect overnight changes. I would like to take the opportunity to vent a little of my sadness. Here are my blues:
If I try to respect a hospital staff member's job by getting out of his/her way, I can be asked huffily, "Why aren't you helping me?" If I jump in and try to help (change bedding, soiled gowns, etc.) I am often criticized for not doing it properly, or told altogether to not interfere.
I have been told, "I know what I'm doing!" when I tell a resident who has just arrived on shift and who is about to take the mother off the monitor for an hour, that the reason she is still on the monitor is because of the fact she's been having unusual bleeding during labour and the last resident said she was supposed to stay on it for a while (I'm just relaying information). Taking this as a strong message to just keep my mouth shut and not assume to inform anyone, I have with the same client been told by another staff member, "If you KNOW she has unusual bleeding, why were you going to let me take her off the monitor? I have visited 6 patients in 15 minutes...if you KNOW the drill, speak up!" Sigh.
When I've removed a bloody pad from the bathroom floor so as to keep the environment clean, I have been told, "You can't move that! I need to measure the blood loss!" When the next time the situation has arisen and I have left it there for the nurse to assess, I have been told, "Why would you leave that there?! It gets germs all over the place! I thought you liked to keep the environment clean? Isn't that a doula's job? Jeesh!"
When I have placed a towel under a standing, nude, extremely actively labouring lady to protect the floor from slippery amniotic fluid, it has been yelled at me, "she's going to trip on that towel..it's a hazard!" When I have not placed that towel down, I am yelled at, "What are you thinking not putting a towel under her? Don't you know that amniotic fluid on the floor is a hazard?!"
When I have been buzzing for someone in a busy hospital to help a 1 hour postpartum lady up to the bathroom to have a much needed pee, I can be asked with scathing indignation, "why wouldn't you just bring her yourself? Isn't your job to tend to her?" And, when I have taken the initiative and just brought the full bladdered lady to the bathroom myself, I have been been told, "You can't take her to the bathroom! What if she faints? I'm responsible!"
If I have shown as much respect for boundaries as possible and asked first before doing anything, I have been advised to stop pestering, to take initiative, and just DO what needs to be done (barring anything considered medical). When I have taken the initiative, I have been told to do nothing without permission.
A doula can be a scapegoat for staff members' frustrations. When things are busy, we can be damned if we do, and damned if we don't. Sometimes it feels like I can just do no right. If that's the way you feel sometimes, my doula friends, let the attitude roll off you like water. Don't take it personally. Sense the tone, and do what you think will cause the least tension. If you're wrong, you can rest assured you at least respected your scope of practice, respected your client, and did your best to respect the staff.
I personally have some boundaries I don't cross, even when asked. I will not "just put the lady on the monitor for me..I have another lady about to deliver and don't have time." I will not start "coaching" and counting during the second stage of labour, unless this is what the mother wants. If a staff member wants to assume I'm lazy or don't know what I'm doing because I don't engage in the Purple Pushing Circus, that's fine. I will not "make" my client stop vocalizing and "get control of herself" even if the whole room is scowling at ME because of my clients' "antics". If she is releasing tension by using her voice and is obviously progressing beautifully, there is no need to change anything. I will continue to just be quietly present if that is what the feel of the labour dictates, not worrying about the whispered comments I hear, "why isn't she DOING anything, like telling her to breathe or anything? Why did they hire her?" I will not be over solicitous to a client to please onlooking staff members by performing sacral counter pressure, spraying lavender, applying cool cloths and asking endless "are you okay?" kinds of questions when I know it's going to get on this particular client's nerves. I will also not answer, for example, if my client is going to take postpartum Synto by IV or injection, as this is not a call a doula should ever be asked to make. Yet we're asked to speak for our non-communicative clients all the time. I will communicate preferences the client has discussed with me, but I will never speak for her concerning a split second medical decision!
And yes, sometimes I do get eyeballs rolled at me when I gently say, "I'm sorry, but I can't speak for my client." Just like I get eyeballs rolled at me when I offer important information about my client that was not asked by the staff, because I'm not supposed to "speak for" her (ex. "Mrs. P had a double mastectomy 4 years ago..she has asked me to communicate that she wishes not to be asked if she will be breastfeeding").
I just continue to smile and be kind, trying not to get caught up in the criticisms and comments. When my clients hold their babies in their arms with huge smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes, shining with gratitude for everyone in the room having been there for them how they needed them to be, this is all the "reward" for my efforts I need. I have surrendered the need to please everyone on a hospital staff and invest huge efforts in having them like me and approve of my work. You can't please everyone. I serve my clients, and am confident I do nothing inappropriate to endanger them. I respect all boundaries to the best of my abilities, and do my best to reduce tension. And yes, it does burn sometimes. I do so much work to be the most diplomatic and conscientious person in the room (as do the vast majority of doulas), though there is not as much pressure on caregivers to do so at all, thus FAR more occurences of challenging medical staff behaviour than actual bad doula behaviour (such as non emergency episiotomies done without explanation or consent, or the undermining of a woman's desire to have a natural birth "you think it hurts now? It only gets worse. Are you SURE you don't want your epidural now? Anesthesia is on the floor." or, upon vaginal examination the incredibly insensitive "hmmmm, it's pretty tight in there...I HOPE this goes the way you want, but, hmmmm.I don't know...how tall are you and what's your shoe size?") I know these actions and comments are not intended to hurt, and most likely they are intended to spare a woman from perceived potential harm or disappointment if things don't work out the way she wanted. In fact, though, the tone of these comments is disempowering, and women need to stop being infantalized. A doula knows that a lady is more apt to be able to handle an honest trouble that arises, but will be far more disappointed if she felt not believed in from the start with these misguided attempts to "protect" her heart from getting its hopes up. This paternalistic type of protection so often creates self fulfilling prophesy through the oxytocin killing stress it introduces into the room.
If I am at a birth and someone takes me aside and says, "why aren't you letting this mother get an epidural? Can't you see she's suffering enough? Why would you be so cruel as to encourage her to keep going with her labour when clearly she is in agony? Have you been feeding her garbage about how epidurals are bad?" I just smile and explain that an epidural is a mother's choice, not ours to make for her, and that she will most certainly have our support if she asks for one. When I'm with a woman who TRULY wants an epidural, there's not much I could say to stand in her way from getting it, even if that's something I WANTED to control. It's pretty crazy, really, when you think about it: at the same time as being thought of as puppet masters who have omnipotent powers to pull all the strings and have all control over a woman's attitude, sounds, movements, breathing, requests, bodily functions and choices, we are often not thought of as smart enough to even hold a vomit bowl competently. I am reasonably well known and familiar in the hospitals I go to, and have the reputation of being a respectful doula. But if I run into a staff member I don't know, enough times that it ends up being quite hurtful, I feel like I'm guilty until proven innocent. This is why I apprentice my trainees: so they can become a little acclimatized to the environment before their dreams of going off into the hospital and building bridges and making friends are dashed at the first harsh comment or judgement. It is good for them to know that this is a challenge that will remain with them perhaps even after 17 years of good practice.
Someone needs to make a decision. Is it our "power over our clients" and our seeming omnipotence that is perceived as dangerous, or is it our stupidity and ineptitude that endangers, as we are, after all, just a bunch of hippie moms? Do you really think we could magically stop a woman from demanding an epidural she really wants one? Do you really think our clients are so malleable and uninformed that they'll put all their clinical decisions into the hands of a DOULA? We just translate the information that's said in a more nurturing way and open the doors for more questions and options. Why is it seemingly believed that when clients speak up for themselves it's because we doulas are playing ventriloquist in the corner, in a voodoo like way using our labouring ladies to promote our agendas and personal beliefs? If we ask questions that any well informed consumer of maternity care may ask (ie: what are the benefits vs. the risks of her taking Synto at this point? Is it possible an epidural in this case could slow down/speed up labour?), it's because we have been asked by our clients to do so to help them gather as much information as they can about their care. In labour, they are busy trying to have their babies, and may not be in a logical state to pose these questions, the answers to which they most likely already know, as most of them read a lot, but aren't in the headspace to think about unless things are presented plainly.
And if we're so stupid and inept, not jumping in to do all the stuff everyone knows doulas are "supposed" to be doing every moment, like double hip squeezing until the cows come home, or doling out ice chips, and asking "dumb" questions of our clients like, "are you comfortable pushing on your back like this? Is this the position you want to be in?" why on earth are we sometimes asked to put a mom on a monitor or handed a bowl of warm water and stack of compresses and told, "just tell us when you see the head." I'm not kidding, I have been asked to do these things. I'm often asked how dilated my client is when I show up to the hospital! I'm a doula so I DON'T have to assume this type of responsibility, thank you very much.
Let's just debunk these misperceptions altogether. I am neither omnipotent nor stupid. I'm a doula, and my work is important. Klaus and Kennel and many others have done studies on the amazing reduction in unnecessary medical interventions, better overall infant/maternal health, and greater satisfaction with birth and breastfeeding, that doula care can provide. So evidence states that IN FACT good doulas (not those few doulas actually behaving badly) are the opposite of dangerous. And I have to say, IN FACT, most of us ARE good doulas. Just as most medical caregivers are good. Prejudice and/or misunderstanding from some medical caregivers that can turn anything we say and do into an outrage because our very presence "threatens" status quo in the hospital is as likely to be a reality as an actual bad doula behaviour. "No matter what you do, somebody always 'knew' you would".
Perhaps this fear of us having the potential to make everything SNAFU in the hospital maternity ward is not actually a testament to our dangerous, witchy natures, but simply a fundamental resistance to the uncharted waters of that unfamiliar, radical thing our clients often want and we support called normal physiological birth! That's right, no bells and whistles like nifty beds, prophylactic cuts for postpartum healing enjoyment, constant monitoring, restricted food and drink intake, imposed positions, prescribed pushing formulas, silly jokes right after the baby comes out instead of reverent silence...and yes, they want it in the hospital because they appreciate the potential for swift and skilled intervention...when necessary. They want to have their cake and eat it too, and why not?
Putting doulas in their places because they've been perceived as being uppity, or sabotaging us by telling us one day something we do is wrong and then the next day the opposite thing we do is wrong too doesn't hurt doulas (permanently, anyway..we're used to it, and have thick skins), but the birthing women themselves. The birthing room is no place for a pissing contest.
If I try to respect a hospital staff member's job by getting out of his/her way, I can be asked huffily, "Why aren't you helping me?" If I jump in and try to help (change bedding, soiled gowns, etc.) I am often criticized for not doing it properly, or told altogether to not interfere.
I have been told, "I know what I'm doing!" when I tell a resident who has just arrived on shift and who is about to take the mother off the monitor for an hour, that the reason she is still on the monitor is because of the fact she's been having unusual bleeding during labour and the last resident said she was supposed to stay on it for a while (I'm just relaying information). Taking this as a strong message to just keep my mouth shut and not assume to inform anyone, I have with the same client been told by another staff member, "If you KNOW she has unusual bleeding, why were you going to let me take her off the monitor? I have visited 6 patients in 15 minutes...if you KNOW the drill, speak up!" Sigh.
When I've removed a bloody pad from the bathroom floor so as to keep the environment clean, I have been told, "You can't move that! I need to measure the blood loss!" When the next time the situation has arisen and I have left it there for the nurse to assess, I have been told, "Why would you leave that there?! It gets germs all over the place! I thought you liked to keep the environment clean? Isn't that a doula's job? Jeesh!"
When I have placed a towel under a standing, nude, extremely actively labouring lady to protect the floor from slippery amniotic fluid, it has been yelled at me, "she's going to trip on that towel..it's a hazard!" When I have not placed that towel down, I am yelled at, "What are you thinking not putting a towel under her? Don't you know that amniotic fluid on the floor is a hazard?!"
When I have been buzzing for someone in a busy hospital to help a 1 hour postpartum lady up to the bathroom to have a much needed pee, I can be asked with scathing indignation, "why wouldn't you just bring her yourself? Isn't your job to tend to her?" And, when I have taken the initiative and just brought the full bladdered lady to the bathroom myself, I have been been told, "You can't take her to the bathroom! What if she faints? I'm responsible!"
If I have shown as much respect for boundaries as possible and asked first before doing anything, I have been advised to stop pestering, to take initiative, and just DO what needs to be done (barring anything considered medical). When I have taken the initiative, I have been told to do nothing without permission.
A doula can be a scapegoat for staff members' frustrations. When things are busy, we can be damned if we do, and damned if we don't. Sometimes it feels like I can just do no right. If that's the way you feel sometimes, my doula friends, let the attitude roll off you like water. Don't take it personally. Sense the tone, and do what you think will cause the least tension. If you're wrong, you can rest assured you at least respected your scope of practice, respected your client, and did your best to respect the staff.
I personally have some boundaries I don't cross, even when asked. I will not "just put the lady on the monitor for me..I have another lady about to deliver and don't have time." I will not start "coaching" and counting during the second stage of labour, unless this is what the mother wants. If a staff member wants to assume I'm lazy or don't know what I'm doing because I don't engage in the Purple Pushing Circus, that's fine. I will not "make" my client stop vocalizing and "get control of herself" even if the whole room is scowling at ME because of my clients' "antics". If she is releasing tension by using her voice and is obviously progressing beautifully, there is no need to change anything. I will continue to just be quietly present if that is what the feel of the labour dictates, not worrying about the whispered comments I hear, "why isn't she DOING anything, like telling her to breathe or anything? Why did they hire her?" I will not be over solicitous to a client to please onlooking staff members by performing sacral counter pressure, spraying lavender, applying cool cloths and asking endless "are you okay?" kinds of questions when I know it's going to get on this particular client's nerves. I will also not answer, for example, if my client is going to take postpartum Synto by IV or injection, as this is not a call a doula should ever be asked to make. Yet we're asked to speak for our non-communicative clients all the time. I will communicate preferences the client has discussed with me, but I will never speak for her concerning a split second medical decision!
And yes, sometimes I do get eyeballs rolled at me when I gently say, "I'm sorry, but I can't speak for my client." Just like I get eyeballs rolled at me when I offer important information about my client that was not asked by the staff, because I'm not supposed to "speak for" her (ex. "Mrs. P had a double mastectomy 4 years ago..she has asked me to communicate that she wishes not to be asked if she will be breastfeeding").
I just continue to smile and be kind, trying not to get caught up in the criticisms and comments. When my clients hold their babies in their arms with huge smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes, shining with gratitude for everyone in the room having been there for them how they needed them to be, this is all the "reward" for my efforts I need. I have surrendered the need to please everyone on a hospital staff and invest huge efforts in having them like me and approve of my work. You can't please everyone. I serve my clients, and am confident I do nothing inappropriate to endanger them. I respect all boundaries to the best of my abilities, and do my best to reduce tension. And yes, it does burn sometimes. I do so much work to be the most diplomatic and conscientious person in the room (as do the vast majority of doulas), though there is not as much pressure on caregivers to do so at all, thus FAR more occurences of challenging medical staff behaviour than actual bad doula behaviour (such as non emergency episiotomies done without explanation or consent, or the undermining of a woman's desire to have a natural birth "you think it hurts now? It only gets worse. Are you SURE you don't want your epidural now? Anesthesia is on the floor." or, upon vaginal examination the incredibly insensitive "hmmmm, it's pretty tight in there...I HOPE this goes the way you want, but, hmmmm.I don't know...how tall are you and what's your shoe size?") I know these actions and comments are not intended to hurt, and most likely they are intended to spare a woman from perceived potential harm or disappointment if things don't work out the way she wanted. In fact, though, the tone of these comments is disempowering, and women need to stop being infantalized. A doula knows that a lady is more apt to be able to handle an honest trouble that arises, but will be far more disappointed if she felt not believed in from the start with these misguided attempts to "protect" her heart from getting its hopes up. This paternalistic type of protection so often creates self fulfilling prophesy through the oxytocin killing stress it introduces into the room.
If I am at a birth and someone takes me aside and says, "why aren't you letting this mother get an epidural? Can't you see she's suffering enough? Why would you be so cruel as to encourage her to keep going with her labour when clearly she is in agony? Have you been feeding her garbage about how epidurals are bad?" I just smile and explain that an epidural is a mother's choice, not ours to make for her, and that she will most certainly have our support if she asks for one. When I'm with a woman who TRULY wants an epidural, there's not much I could say to stand in her way from getting it, even if that's something I WANTED to control. It's pretty crazy, really, when you think about it: at the same time as being thought of as puppet masters who have omnipotent powers to pull all the strings and have all control over a woman's attitude, sounds, movements, breathing, requests, bodily functions and choices, we are often not thought of as smart enough to even hold a vomit bowl competently. I am reasonably well known and familiar in the hospitals I go to, and have the reputation of being a respectful doula. But if I run into a staff member I don't know, enough times that it ends up being quite hurtful, I feel like I'm guilty until proven innocent. This is why I apprentice my trainees: so they can become a little acclimatized to the environment before their dreams of going off into the hospital and building bridges and making friends are dashed at the first harsh comment or judgement. It is good for them to know that this is a challenge that will remain with them perhaps even after 17 years of good practice.
Someone needs to make a decision. Is it our "power over our clients" and our seeming omnipotence that is perceived as dangerous, or is it our stupidity and ineptitude that endangers, as we are, after all, just a bunch of hippie moms? Do you really think we could magically stop a woman from demanding an epidural she really wants one? Do you really think our clients are so malleable and uninformed that they'll put all their clinical decisions into the hands of a DOULA? We just translate the information that's said in a more nurturing way and open the doors for more questions and options. Why is it seemingly believed that when clients speak up for themselves it's because we doulas are playing ventriloquist in the corner, in a voodoo like way using our labouring ladies to promote our agendas and personal beliefs? If we ask questions that any well informed consumer of maternity care may ask (ie: what are the benefits vs. the risks of her taking Synto at this point? Is it possible an epidural in this case could slow down/speed up labour?), it's because we have been asked by our clients to do so to help them gather as much information as they can about their care. In labour, they are busy trying to have their babies, and may not be in a logical state to pose these questions, the answers to which they most likely already know, as most of them read a lot, but aren't in the headspace to think about unless things are presented plainly.
And if we're so stupid and inept, not jumping in to do all the stuff everyone knows doulas are "supposed" to be doing every moment, like double hip squeezing until the cows come home, or doling out ice chips, and asking "dumb" questions of our clients like, "are you comfortable pushing on your back like this? Is this the position you want to be in?" why on earth are we sometimes asked to put a mom on a monitor or handed a bowl of warm water and stack of compresses and told, "just tell us when you see the head." I'm not kidding, I have been asked to do these things. I'm often asked how dilated my client is when I show up to the hospital! I'm a doula so I DON'T have to assume this type of responsibility, thank you very much.
Let's just debunk these misperceptions altogether. I am neither omnipotent nor stupid. I'm a doula, and my work is important. Klaus and Kennel and many others have done studies on the amazing reduction in unnecessary medical interventions, better overall infant/maternal health, and greater satisfaction with birth and breastfeeding, that doula care can provide. So evidence states that IN FACT good doulas (not those few doulas actually behaving badly) are the opposite of dangerous. And I have to say, IN FACT, most of us ARE good doulas. Just as most medical caregivers are good. Prejudice and/or misunderstanding from some medical caregivers that can turn anything we say and do into an outrage because our very presence "threatens" status quo in the hospital is as likely to be a reality as an actual bad doula behaviour. "No matter what you do, somebody always 'knew' you would".
Perhaps this fear of us having the potential to make everything SNAFU in the hospital maternity ward is not actually a testament to our dangerous, witchy natures, but simply a fundamental resistance to the uncharted waters of that unfamiliar, radical thing our clients often want and we support called normal physiological birth! That's right, no bells and whistles like nifty beds, prophylactic cuts for postpartum healing enjoyment, constant monitoring, restricted food and drink intake, imposed positions, prescribed pushing formulas, silly jokes right after the baby comes out instead of reverent silence...and yes, they want it in the hospital because they appreciate the potential for swift and skilled intervention...when necessary. They want to have their cake and eat it too, and why not?
Putting doulas in their places because they've been perceived as being uppity, or sabotaging us by telling us one day something we do is wrong and then the next day the opposite thing we do is wrong too doesn't hurt doulas (permanently, anyway..we're used to it, and have thick skins), but the birthing women themselves. The birthing room is no place for a pissing contest.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Within 24 Hours: A Snippet of Doula Life
Within 24 hours I travelled from Niagara Falls to Montreal, listening to music which reawakened an old and overwhelming desire to learn to play guitar like a man. There is nothing like being a passenger and immersing oneself into music, mind, and scenery, only interrupted by sporadic fights in the back seats by 3 bored kids and Tim Horton's pit stops.
I attended two beautiful births (even though still technically on vacation). How can one say, "I'm still off call" when one is called by a lovely labouring woman, the powerful craving for the sanctity of the birthing room (what one can salvage of sanctity in a hospital, anyway) infusing one's blood? And since that one went quickly and I still had energy, why not just tend to the next equally beautiful and sacred labouring woman, who, thank God, birthed quickly and smoothly too?
I watched an episode each of True Blood and Hung(between babies). I admit to an HBO addiction. I don't watch any other tv, but I do love my Louisianna vampire and awkward girl pimp dramas.
After the next birth, I ran into my nurse friend Jodi, and both of us swaying in the hallway with exhaustion (me from working, her from being kept up all night by a 2 year old), we passionately created an outline for a doula-training-for-new-nurses. The date is confirmed, and I couldn't be more excited. The energy sizzled and flowed in those few minutes in a way that made us resonate with a huge YES in terms of the training's content and intention, after a year of musing and wondering and not being sure how to most delicately but authentically approach it. Inspiration vibrated through those hallways, punctuated by labour sounds and the buzz of a busy hospital staff, and we tapped it and created something special.
I took a bus home, and fell into a short, but deep slumber for a few hours after saying "hi" to the kids.
I woke up to 4 new requests for my services, glad for my team of MotherWitties to take on these lovely ladies, as I am already booked for all the dates for those requests. It is an amazing thing to have abundance doing something I so love to do. Something I need to do. I count my blessings.
I awoke to my healthy, amazing children, and am waiting for my husband to come home so we can restock our empty, post vacation 'fridge, and hope to watch a movie tonight before tackling a huge day tomorrow of catching up on administrative work.
A doula never knows what her day is going to be like when she wakes up. It is a rich and good life. There are days in which my life sounds like something out of the strangest of Tom Waits songs, days I end up doing things I would never have imagined in a million years I'd be called upon to do. The rhythm is always spicy, and boredom is never an option.
I attended two beautiful births (even though still technically on vacation). How can one say, "I'm still off call" when one is called by a lovely labouring woman, the powerful craving for the sanctity of the birthing room (what one can salvage of sanctity in a hospital, anyway) infusing one's blood? And since that one went quickly and I still had energy, why not just tend to the next equally beautiful and sacred labouring woman, who, thank God, birthed quickly and smoothly too?
I watched an episode each of True Blood and Hung(between babies). I admit to an HBO addiction. I don't watch any other tv, but I do love my Louisianna vampire and awkward girl pimp dramas.
After the next birth, I ran into my nurse friend Jodi, and both of us swaying in the hallway with exhaustion (me from working, her from being kept up all night by a 2 year old), we passionately created an outline for a doula-training-for-new-nurses. The date is confirmed, and I couldn't be more excited. The energy sizzled and flowed in those few minutes in a way that made us resonate with a huge YES in terms of the training's content and intention, after a year of musing and wondering and not being sure how to most delicately but authentically approach it. Inspiration vibrated through those hallways, punctuated by labour sounds and the buzz of a busy hospital staff, and we tapped it and created something special.
I took a bus home, and fell into a short, but deep slumber for a few hours after saying "hi" to the kids.
I woke up to 4 new requests for my services, glad for my team of MotherWitties to take on these lovely ladies, as I am already booked for all the dates for those requests. It is an amazing thing to have abundance doing something I so love to do. Something I need to do. I count my blessings.
I awoke to my healthy, amazing children, and am waiting for my husband to come home so we can restock our empty, post vacation 'fridge, and hope to watch a movie tonight before tackling a huge day tomorrow of catching up on administrative work.
A doula never knows what her day is going to be like when she wakes up. It is a rich and good life. There are days in which my life sounds like something out of the strangest of Tom Waits songs, days I end up doing things I would never have imagined in a million years I'd be called upon to do. The rhythm is always spicy, and boredom is never an option.
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