A good friend of mine had a baby last week and it has stirred up in me all kinds of emotions. Shockingly, mostly good ones. Mainly am I excited to someday do it again: not just have a baby, but to give birth again. Almost everyone looks at me oddly when I say that, because it’s apparently not a very common sentiment of women who have given birth before. But I am weird and not only do I love being pregnant (throwing up notwithstanding), I love labor and I love birth.<\/p>\n
I have thought a lot about pursuing it further, to become a birth doula. It’s something I’m pretty certain I would love doing, something that would give me an emotional high, be fulfilling. It is not, however, something that will make a lot of money, nor is it at all practical with a small child. That’s the part that’s holding me back right now. Den has a very secure, predictable day job. We don’t have any relatives nearby who are available during the day – everyone works. If a birth happened during the day – which they would, given how spontaneous these things occur – then Den would have to call in to work and stay home with Kate. Which may possibly work a few times, but seems kind of counter-productive to me. And stressful. I am thinking that the joy of attending births would be significantly diminished by the stress I experience trying desperately to get someone to watch Kate.<\/p>\n
So, as before, it’s an idea I shelve for now. “Maybe later” – later, after the kids are in school, after they are self-sufficient. But then I will probably (hopefully) have a job of some sort… or be in college in order to get said job. (As I said before, being a doula just is never going to pay much.) Maybe I’ll find another way to be involved in birth somehow.<\/p>\n
::<\/p>\n
My mom was visiting us for two weeks, she just left. My mom and I have never been super close, but we have been getting along great ever since I moved out. It took a while for me to understand – we are just very different people. She is a great person, warm and giving and gets along with everyone. She is always there to help a friend or family member in need. We just clash personality-wise when we live in each others space. It was a good thing when I moved out.<\/p>\n
Watching her with Kate, however, really made me think too much of what could have been. Kate loved her, and of course my mom reveled in the attention of her granddaughter. There was something so wonderful about watching them together. And of course it was so much easier on me. Needed to run to the store while Kate was napping? No problem! Needed Kate distracted while I cooked dinner? No problem! Needed a babysitter so Den and I could attend a work event? No problem!<\/p>\n
It has left me very homesick – though not exactly missing home itself. I miss my family. I see my SIL’s relationship with her parents, how much they lend a hand with the kids, and I think about bow it could be if my family were close. What a different life it could be. That doula thing? I could do that if my mom were here. Not only is she willing to babysit on short-notice, but she thinks the idea of being a labor coach is wonderful.<\/p>\n
I find myself really mourning. And the thing is, there is no way to change it. The area that my parents live, so close to Vancouver, is absolutely not affordable – not to mention the fact that my husband, the sole money-maker, works for the Military. It’s not like he can transfer to Canada. We love this area, we have his family here (but they are not available the way my family would be – they all work). I love just about everything else about living here. I just wish my family were a few streets over, not a 7 hour flight.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
A good friend of mine had a baby last week and it has stirred up in me all kinds of emotions. Shockingly, mostly good ones. Mainly am I excited to someday do it again: not just have a baby, but to give birth again. Almost everyone looks at me oddly when I say that, because […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":71,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[560,99],"class_list":["post-3662","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-grandparents","tag-home"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3662","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/71"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3662"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3662\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3665,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3662\/revisions\/3665"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3662"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3662"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3662"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}