Sit a Spell: What I Want to be When I Grow Up

Every time a new mother invites me into her home to help her with a breastfeeding issue, I'm reminded of what a wonderful place this world is because of the contribution of women. ?Sleep deprived, sore, determined, she holds her baby in her arms. ?A baby she just met. ?A baby she's always known. ?Postpartum tears. ?They fall without any effort. ?A never ending path across her face. ?Some of these women have recently been through major surgery. ?An?unexpected?trauma. ?Nothing went the way they wanted it to go, and it's still not going in the right direction.

Motherhood often feels like gaining a child and losing control. ?We trade one for the other.

It's been a?privilege?to love and serve women during one of the most vulnerable moments of their life. ?A woman who has recently given birth. ?A brand new baby. ?Both strong. ?Both fragile. ?While listening and troubleshooting breastfeeding issues, I've learned so much along the way. ?Some of those lessons have to do with the actual art of breastfeeding and nurturing a strong relationship between mother and child, but mostly I've been given the consistent, steady invitation to truly think about womanhood and motherhood.

I've made many mistakes while learning to support women. ?Especially in my younger years. ?Immaturity often means we're unable to value the beliefs and methods of others. ?We're quick to judge. ?We're unloving and aloof when someone doesn't think the same way we do or mother according to our convictions. ?We forget we don't all carry the same memories, upbringing, and values in our suitcases. We think we can live different lives and all come out the same shape. ?We are quick to decide who "gets it" and who doesn't. ?We love putting people into piles. ?We major on the differences and forget how similar we all are. ?I've been guilty of hurting women in this way. ?Twelve years of invitations into the homes of new moms has trained me to look for common ground. ?Thankfully, there's a whole lot of it to be found. ?

I've learned that supporting women means loving them right where they are and trusting them to make the best decisions for themselves and their families. ?It means listening, offering suggestions, ideas, but always reminding each woman that she has choices, these are her decisions, she has a voice, and she should use it. ?She deserves accurate information and support as she decides what is best for herself and her children. ?There is freedom. ?So much so, that freedom should be what overwhelms us as mothers, not fear, and certainly not guilt.

It's been a?privilege?to offer help and information to women. ?It's been an even greater?privilege?to learn from women. ?So many women in my past have shaped me into the woman and mother I am today.

I know I've hinted on this blog that some changes are coming up in our home. ?After being gone from our community and the life we knew for a couple years, we're finally feeling settled, in some ways - but not in every way. ?I confessed in my last post that there's simply no way to fully be back to "normal" after living in such close proximity to intense poverty. ?When we left the United States we wanted it to change us. ?We wanted it to change our kids. ?I guess it's good that it did. ?

For many reasons, that I'm not sure I'll totally spell out here in this space, I've decided to go back to school and start the process of becoming a nurse-midwife. ?I was offered the opportunity to go back to school earlier in the year, and I've been back and forth about what I want to do - what path I want to pursue. ?By back and forth I mean, I've driven my adviser-friend insane, and should probably give him a gift certificate to a local therapist or a giant case of wine. ?He had no idea when I said, "I want to go back to school" I also meant, "Help me figure out what I want to be, what makes the most sense, and what I believe about being a woman." ?Obviously, my choices not only affect me, but a house full of people I dearly love. ?Those kinds of decisions make me all kinds of sweaty. ?Taking into consideration every human being living under my roof - factoring them into my decision making process - isn't that what we do as women?

After a lot of prayer, night-sweats, record breaking chips/salsa consumption, and discussion with Aaron and the boys, I'm excited to say that I'm going to nursing school in the hopes of eventually becoming a nurse-midwife. I'm officially registered for classes (yikes!). ?I start this spring.

Being back on a college campus after a decade of being gone will feel weird, but this field of study feels like home to me. ?My work in the breastfeeding realm, our time in Haiti, the honor of assisting with births, have led me, in a very natural way to this place of feeling eager and ready to take this next step. ?While in Haiti I had the rare?privilege?of watching various nurse-midwives in action. ?Their love for women, their knowledge, and mind-boggling skill deeply inspired me. ?I'm excited to learn more about women's health and how to better support women and advocate for them during labor/delivery and postpartum care. ?This is, of course, assuming my brain still actually works. ?We shall see.

Most importantly, our time in Haiti, Half the Sky, and my news feed overflowing with articles about women's health, remind me that women and babies around the world are dying needless deaths because they don't have access to trained birth assistants. ?I have no real idea how my journey will eventually lead to actively engaging in the fight to reduce maternal and infant mortality around the world, but one day, I want it to. ?The fight to reduce the deaths of mothers and babies is the fight to value women and celebrate their strong, determined, selfless,?contribution?to our world. ?Lately, I find myself dreaming big dreams. ?Scary ones that make me feel alive again.

Thanks for always walking along with me on this journey - even the new, unexpected ones. ?I'm grateful and eager to share all this new with you.

Source: http://allthingshendrick.blogspot.com/2012/11/what-i-want-to-be-when-i-grow-up.html

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