The Truth Is… 2021 Was a Year!
I really didn’t want to Oprah this blog by making it about me, but it’s the last week of what was (another!) very intense, unpredictable, and rough year, so I thought I’d take an opportunity to reflect a bit. It’s the end of my first official year as a doula. It’s the end of my first decade of motherhood. And it’s the end of my thirties. It just seems like the end of a lot for me right now and I’d like to package it all up with a nice little bow and keep it in the past where I can look back on it as part of what shaped me, but not what determines my future. I’ve let go of a lot this year, which isn’t an easy thing for me to do, but it has given me a sense of peace, freedom, and the opportunity to create new possibilities for myself… with a lot of hard work and stumbles along the way.
My first year as a doula has been an incredible journey in which I feel very grounded. I completed three different doula certifications this year and one in Global Maternal and Infant Quality Care, all of which taught me about how important compassionate and nonjudgmental support is during pregnancy and birth, yet how far we still have to go in achieving reproductive justice for all. I plan on continuing my education so that I can keep learning and growing as a birth worker, but also because it allows me to connect with brilliant, fierce, and compassionate humans who are committed to improving birth outcomes and experiences for all. Showing up and being present for my clients has shown me firsthand how essential this type of support is and how it must be accessible to anyone who needs or wants it.
The end of 2021 also marks almost ten years (as of January 7th, 2022) of motherhood for me. It is surreal to accept that a decade has gone by this quickly. As of this writing, ten years ago I was living in San Diego in a small apartment with Dave, my mom, and our dear, late Bogey boy, eagerly awaiting the arrival of our first son, Michael. Who knew over the next ten years we’d move across the country, have two more boys, a loss in between, produce a film, and live through nearly two years of a global pandemic. We’re exhausted, just like most of you. I also wouldn’t be keeping it in any way real if I said any of it was easy. It was not and continues not to be as the years roll by. We’ve all just been expected to keep on going, and we all have, however impossible it has seemed to be. Being human is hard. Caring for and raising humans is really fucking hard. Add a backdrop of a pandemic, societal upheaval, and misinformation at every turn? It’s just too much at times. But just know, I see your struggle, pain, and frustration. I see just how incredibly done you all are, but if it’s any comfort, please know that you’re not alone. The heaviness of it all can feel unbearable at times, which is why we all need to lean on each other. Please lean on me. On a personal note, I will say as hard as it has been for me, I know that I’m also very lucky. I owe everything to my husband, family, some of the most amazing friends, and community of moms who have supported me through it all. And somehow my three kiddos have thrived through all the muck and mire. Again, it all comes back to support. Essential. Necessary. Accessible TO ALL.
Me, a month shy of my 30th birthday, with baby Michael.
Finally, RIP to my thirties. On February 3, 2022, I will turn the Big 4-0 and I couldn’t be happier to welcome this new chapter of my life. As you’ve just heard, my thirties have been exhausting as all hell and I’m ready to really embrace more simplicity and give less Fs. There are no more diapers in my life (besides those of my clients’ babies - which I change happily FYI), the kids mostly sleep through the night (which allows me to do the same), and with the help of an organizer I plan on doing a major purge of unused, unworn, unwanted things in my house to clear out some space and stagnant energy. I’m also making myself a promise to live (mostly) without judgement, resentment, remorse, or anger toward myself and especially toward others. You have permission to call me out if you see me break this promise in person or on social media. I also give myself permission to forgive myself with grace when I inevitably fuck up.
Alright folks, that’s it. As promised in my first blog: short, sweet, sometimes sad, but as sincere as I can be. Wishing you all a safe, happy, and especially healthy new year. And all the support in any area you may need.
