there are so many things that my children don't know or aren't able to understand yet. when they got up this morning and bounded into the room, covering my face (and earlobes) with kisses and kubers, they were unaware of the secret life of mama bubbling under the surface.you see, i had only gone to bed about an hour before. i came home, stripped off my clothes that were spattered in someone else's blood, and fell blissfully asleep for one hour before the day started.
this is the life of a doula- a life that breathes and grows mostly in the dark hours of the night. a secret place where hands are held, backs are massaged, comfort is given. me, driving through the night rain listening to the beatles "come together" and feeling connected to the world. holding someone at both their strongest and weakest moment. that feeling to watch the head crown, and then to watch the baby spill out. the blood. the glory of a new mom. the wiping of a brow. the first suck. the sweet baby cries filling the night, making sleep unnecessary.
this is my secret life.
