The angel in the snow............

My Blue...........

My blue is back. I've been waiting for her, expecting her to show up on my door step. I'm a bit surprised she didn't show up weeks ago. But here she is, all decked out in her tears disguised as smiles and her weariness heavy as a wet winter coat. I am sad with her. And all I want to do is curl against her back and sleep until the chill is gone and the sun is too bright through the window pane.

Her company makes me homesick. I am so very homesick today. I am missing my North Carolina mountains and my North Carolina friends, and my North Carolina familiar. I want to go home. Home please. For so many years I was not sure where home was, but I know now. I understand where, and more accurately, who my home is. And I want my home to be all in one place. And I want to BE home. Blue's company makes me long for home because she sometimes can keep me from it.

I don't imagine this makes much sense to anyone who doesn't know Blue. Who hasn't kept her company, especially in the winter. I wrote in one of my songs about that. It's one of my favorite songs at this time of year. It goes:

"I know you'll find no reason in all I do and say.
Blame it on the winter - this need to sail away............"

Blame it on the winter is the name of the song. I guess I blame a lot on the winter. Poor Old Man, he's just doing his job. But Old Man Winter, he's the one that brought Blue a-callin'. He brings her to my house most every year.

I miss my home - my children, my mom, Bobbi and Steve, Cindy and Hannah and Dylan, the familiar road heading out of town with the view of Table Rock or the other with the view of Grandfather, the feeling of belonging.

Peace y'all. Keep the back porch light on and a fire in the stove. I'll be home before too much longer. Until then, my friend Blue will keep me company. And Scott will do his best to keep me warm.

It's always something..........

That was my status update on Facebook last night. "It's always something......." And it's true, isn't it? No matter how smooth the waters, no matter how easy the course, something always happens to rock the boat just a little, sometimes a lot, and sometimes even turn it over and send you out into cold water! This week it's the septic system at the house - too much water in the ground and the drainfield and now the freeze - certainly not things I can control, but there you have it. The thing is not working right. So I have to try to remember not to flush. Do you know how hard that is? Unless it's already a habit, you will find yourself, more often than not, flushing. And then, "Oh man!! I wasn't supposed to........" and then you sweat bullets for a little while, hoping it'll go down anyway! I'll be glad to see the sun and feel some warmth in the air. I think that'll be the only thing that'll actually cure the situation!

The other "something" is whatever it is that's making that horrible sound under my left foot in the car. It's kind of a grindy, scraping kind of sound. Brake? Wheel bearings? Strut? CV joint? Who the hell knows?! (My guess is that it's the brake doing something that it shouldn't though the man of the house [hence the auto expert] says there is plenty of brake shoe and the rotor is not wearing so it's not the brake?). The car has been in the shop more times in the past six months than it has since I bought it, new, in 2003! I shouldn't complain. She's been a great great car. She's got 170,000 miles on her and I've driven her hard! I kind of wish the trips to the shop could have been a little bit more spread out over the past seven years instead of the past seven months! I guess I'll have to take her back in. It's too blasted cold to work on her in the driveway!

You know, the thing is, in the winter time - "it's always something" seems to happen more and it is way more difficult to make light of it. I was talking to Jacob about this very thing early this morning when I called him. We were talking about Seasonal Affective Disorder (which I capitalize because I have a lot of respect for it and because then when you write SAD, folks know what you mean). I have it. Scott has it. Jacob's pretty sure he has it. I think, in actuality, most all of us have it to some degree. It's because our natural instinct right now is to hibernate. To put on a big layer of body fat and to hunker down and be still. That goes all the way back to our days in caves when body fat and hunkering down is what kept us alive. So it's our bodies natural instinct but life is in conflict. So we have to go and do and work and have Christmas and New Year's and all that stuff. When, really, what we want to do internally, is sit still, sleep more, and come out when the sun is warm again. There are a lot of people that just absolutely love the winter - when someone says that to me, I just think "you ain't right!" - and they just truck right along, happy and energetic. I think maybe that's where the "sad" part of SAD comes in for those of us who can't quite perk up to that level. We have so much to be grateful for, we live in warm houses, our cars have heaters, we have good food, we can go to the Y and work out, so why do we feel so blue, so lazy, so damn tired?! They say it's lack of sunlight. I think it's lack of warmth, too.

So when you got this SAD thing going on, it makes all these pain-in-the-butt kind of stuff harder to take. "It's always something" becomes "it's always something, damn it, and I can't take it any more!". Granted, those feelings pass, but it sure can bring out the grumpier side of a person. I know I get quite a bit grumpier in the winter.

I will be so glad to see the spring. (I know, I know - it's only the 10th of January! it's awfull early to be longing for the spring already! February is going to be particularly long this year!!). In my mind's eye, I see a picture of myself in the spring, emerging from a muddy, damp cave, squinting up at the sun, eyes trying hard to adjust to the light, looking around and seeing green and thinking - "Ahhhhhhhh!".

Peace to you. And thanks for listening to my whining!

The Long Wait............

It's a little after one in the morning. I am at the hospital, waiting on a baby. It's a major part of my life - this waiting. I realized this evening that I've spent a large part of the past fifteen years doing just this - waiting patiently. Sometimes, like tonight, the mom has had some pain medicine and is mostly sleeping through labor, so I am waiting in my little home-away-from-home. Sometimes I wait out at the nurses' station with the nurses, hanging out, telling stories. Lots of times, I wait in the room with the mom and the folks she's asked to be with her. I have learned that my role in that room is a fluid thing and moves in whatever direction the mother and the baby dictate. Sometimes it is an active role, coaching, talking, soothing, coaxing, encouraging mom to sit or stand or turn or walk. Sometimes I just sit quietly, listening, watching, waiting......

I've learned a lot being a midwife. When I think about it, from that perspective, I always feel a bit humbled. Because it's taught me so much. For example, it's from that sitting quietly - just listening, watching, being present - that I've learned the gift of "being with". My friend Cindy told me once that my greatest gift to her as a friend was my ability to just "be with" her in her stuggles - her grief, her heartache, her fear; not trying to change it, not trying to direct it or make it go away, but just being there with it. I learned that from being a midwife. I know that I cannot take the pain away. I can't really even relieve it that much. But I can be there with it, be there with the mom, be the presence that says "let it happen", "trust yourself", "you'll be alright after awhile."

I've learned a lot of patience. One of the things that midwifery has taught me, through experience, is that when I get in a rush and I try to make things happen faster, I generally end up wishing I'd just let things alone to happen on their own time and not mine! And I've found that to be true in my life as well. Trying to hurry things up and make them happen faster, or pass faster, or get done faster - you lose something in that and sometimes you make things a lot harder. So I've learned this great patience as a midwife. And it's overflowed into so many areas of my life. I think about how much I've enjoyed (and continue to enjoy) watching my boys become the people they've become (are becoming). Watching their spirits unfold and take flight. I've tried not to hurry it. Sometimes I worried (and I guess I always will worry for them in the ways that mothers worry - do they have enough to eat? are they happy in their relationships? will they find careers and jobs in which they are happy and fulfilled?), but I didn't try to change the process. I've tried to be patient and let it happen - and they are both such amazing people!!All of the waiting for these little babies I've done has taught me to be alright with the wait. It's worth it.

This patience - it's like the patience of old age, but even more so. I think it's made me patient in a way that's even deeper than that. I find that I am patient about most things. Not only patient, but glad to be so. I can flow with things much easier now than I could even five or ten years ago. Because I do it all the time. Almost every day, I wait and let things happen, and encourage other people to do the same.

It is a miraculous thing watching a baby being born, guiding a baby into this world with your own hands. It really is one of the coolest things I know. I've delivered just under 1500 babies now. Those are just the ones I delivered with my own two hands. There are many more that I took care of in labor that had to be delivered by cesarean. And before I became a midwife, I witnessed many many births in the seven years that I worked as a labor and delivery nurse. It thrills me still! Every time. It is just such a wonderful thing to witness - a new life beginning. And from that, I have learned how amazing we all are. Unique. And perfect in our own way. At the beginning, we are all incredibly beautiful. I haven't seen a single one yet that I didn't think was beautiful.

I know that it is an incredible blessing to love your life's work. I am intensely grateful for that gift. I'm like anybody - I can whine and complain sometimes; I get overly tired and can be pretty bitchy about it; it takes me longer and longer to recover from those all-night waits; and my back complains more now about the work it has to do keeping me up. There are women that I see that frustrate me and some that drive me a little crazy (though less now than even a year ago). I am glad that I chose this path. Even when I am at the hospital at almost 2 in the morning, waiting again, instead of sleeping warm in my own bed. I am still glad I chose this path.

I am missing Daniel and Jacob today. I wish they lived closer and that I could see them every couple of days instead of every couple of months. I am missing my father, too, especially yesterday and today. I miss the sound of his laughter. So I turn to the patience that all these mamas and babies have taught me and rely on its comfort. Soon I'll be in company with my sons and it'll be sweet and warm and fun, as always. And when my time here on this earth is done, my father will be waiting patiently for me on the other side. Time is so very short. I have learned to savor every minute. (The women I take care of in labor would tell me unprintable things if I asked them to savor every minute of labor!).

Savor it. Be grateful for it. It is a beautiful thing.

Peace.