Gratitude

Yesterday, December 27, 2016

I went over to a friend's place early in the morning to deliver a package for my son. Then down to the cafe with some supplies and ingredients for our baking extravaganza. Then over to pick up a gift for a friend who is grieving.

Then home for a minute, and I spoke to a postpartum mother who is healing from  c-section and learning how to breastfeed. Spoke to another postpartum mother who is finally getting the hang of feeding, and we discussed poop and the color of poop and breasts and all that baby talk.
I went for a run, I was going to do five k but man! the sidewalks were icy, I came home after a slippery run of 3 and a half k.

Back to the cafe, to pick up a meal for my grieving friend. I dropped it off at her house, full of love and sadness.

Then off with my family: three sons, husband and "daughter-in-love". We went shopping! I bought my lovely DIL a pair of sandals to wear indoors, and we got some booze, and didn't buy anything else but laughed together at the crazy consumer-inspired road rage happening.

I love my family - all for one and one for all! L'Chaim!!

Then back home, a bit to eat, drive downtown, to the movies!! Rogue One! I brought drinks in my purse because Cymbalists don't like to pay $7 for a small Coke.

Hey, the battle between good and evil? Good wins!!! But everyone dies in the end.

Then out for a drink, and we got a big plate of nachos, but they had chili con carne on them which we don't eat, so we got it to go and dropped it off for a homeless man on St Catherine - he ate well last night!

Then a different bar, the Whiskey Cafe, our regular. Drank good Scotch, had a blast, went home to our warm house, welcoming dog, and comfortable bed.

I lay in my bed so happy, so full of love and gratitude.

People living in Greece right now who have escaped the bloodshed in Syria? They had lives much like mine! Ok, maybe without the really insane Boxing Day consumerism, and no going to bars, but they had nice clothes and furniture and real houses and devices and good jobs and cars.

Now they have nothing. Tens of thousands of them are living in Greece, and I want to go there for three weeks to help young families with newborns, or those who are pregnant, so that their lives and the lives of their children, can be made a tiny bit better.

Please donate to my campaign, and share if you can!

https://www.gofundme.com/MothersandbabiesinGreece

Mothers and Babies

Many years ago I decided to interrupt my studies and go to Africa. I visited my parents in Botswana, then traveled for months through southern and east Africa, visiting the place I was born and the countries I last saw when I was very young.

On a border somewhere in East Africa, two things happened on the same day that deeply affected me and led me to where I am today. As I was waiting to cross to the other side, a young woman leaned heavily on the fence, clearly having labor contractions. She was on her own; a group of women crowded around her and led her away.

A few hours later, a woman came to me with a baby. The baby was sick, clearly dying. The mother explained to me that the baby had diarrhea and asked me if I could help. Back then, I was 23 years old, and although I knew quite a bit about First Aid, herbal healing, helping survivors of sexual assault, and the English Romantic Poets, I knew nothing about newborns or breastfeeding.

I didn't know that around 20% of all infant deaths were due to diarrhea, I didn't know about the links between malnutrition, formula feeding, breastfeeding, and infant death.
She thought I could help her, and I couldn't. I hope you never see a baby and mother looking at you like that.

I realized that day that I wanted to devote my life to making a safer world for mother and babies. I had a lot of other things to do with my life  as well, though, and spent several years meeting my true love, raising five sons, running an organic farm, studying midwifery, and working as a doula. 

Now I am ready, I have the skills to share and the time to spend. I am going to Greece to contribute to the effort to provide prenatal, childbirth and breastfeeding assistance to families in Greece who are living in very difficult conditions. Temperatures are low; people do not have good winter clothing; they are living in tents, in squats or in the streets. Babies are still being born, and children are still being raised.

“…statistics showed that in serious emergency situations, such as the one currently facing those affected by the Syria crisis, disease and associated death rates among under-5 children are higher than for any other age group.

The risk of dying is particularly high because of the combined impact of communicable diseases and diarrhea together with possible increases in rates of under-nutrition as people flee their homes.  The people inside Syria and those displaced may find themselves often in very difficult and unsanitary conditions thus can be at major risk of serious water-borne diseases. Breastfeeding confers critical protection from infection especially where safe water is unavailable and there is poor sanitation. Breastfeeding saves lives.” from safelyfed.org


I have created a GoFundMe campaign to raise funds for my trip. If you have been wondering what you can do to help, this is it! Please help me help mothers and babies in Greece!

GoFundMe

Please share my campaign, and if you can donate even a small amount, it will be gratefully appreciated. The funds will go towards my air travel, accommodation, transport, and supplies while I am there, and any left over will be donated directly to the organizations in Greece who are working with mothers and babies. 


I am wishing you all a year full of health, joy, peace and love.  

Grateful for X?

Sometimes, that is the question. It's not about being an ungrateful person, just that sometimes things don't seem sweet.

I'm grateful for X today. Not certain what it is, but I'm sure there's something. If I name it I might jinx it, so I won't say it. I won't name that elusive X that I am grateful for.

What's so important about being grateful, anyway? I'm not planning on going down the privilege rabbit hole right now. I'm talking about a more profound reason to be thankful. What does that feeling do to our souls? What does it do to our bodies? Our minds?

Is it even a good thing to be grateful? What am I doing when I'm "being grateful"? I'm feeling a feeling of .... of what? contentment? No, not really.

Am I feeling happy that I have something that someone else doesn't have? Am I comparing myself to someone else?

How else would I know that I was grateful? Am I saying thank you for having something? Who or what am I thanking?

I am grateful to be alive. I'm grateful for my health. I'm grateful for having five kids and a husband. I'm grateful for the love I feel around me.

Why though? What makes me grateful? Is it all just a big ole hoax?

So ... what do y'all think?

Run, lady, run

Well, I ran my ten k (68 minutes, I'll tell you why in a minute). I was signed up for a half marathon but my heel was hurting and I was afraid of the dreaded Plantar's fasciitis, and the Running Room wouldn't let me push it forward so I downgraded to a ten. It was fun but, as always with running, I learned some things along the way that I would like to share with y'all.

These tips are all interconnected, and if you follow them you will have a better time and make a better time too!

1. Get to your place destination an hour early! I arrived at the race area (no public transit, it was in a beautiful spot in the country), had to park in a distant parking lot, took the race bus but I ended up at the start line four minutes late (with a bunch of other runners).
If I had gotten there early, I would have had time to figure out where I was going, check in to the washroom (see next point), and get to the starting gate early.

2. Pee before you run! Gotta do it, even if you don't think you need to. Get in there and pee! Especially those of us with the female anatomy, it takes longer to pee at the side of the track, and its not always seemly to dribble as you run.

3. Figure out what's going on!!! If you're in your home town, or even your home country, you will probably be able to read the directions or at least understand what the MC is saying (btw, just a shoutout to my favourite Canadian mc Mark Stein). But what if you're somewhere you can't understand the mc? What if you go to Rome in the spring? (Check it out!)
All the more reason to GET THERE EARLY!! You need to know where everything is so you don't have to try to understand what is being yelled in a foreign language through a loudspeaker.

4. Wear a running watch or your smart phone so you can log your distance. Smaller races don't show you the kilometers, and of course its nice to know, even if you don't have your eye on your pace.

So why did I clock in at 68 minutes? I got to the starting gate, but I was with a large crowd of runners from the bus. Everyone was jolly, walking fast, and the mc was yelling loudly in French. All good. I was also walking fast because I wanted to get to the REAL starting gate. Then we passed a small red sign that said "1K". Shit! I started my TomTom watch and started sprinting, so basically ... my pace for nine of the ten was ok but for one of the ten it was snail slow. Also, yes, because of my late arrival I did have to make use of the Portapotty at k 5 ... so ... live and learn.

Looking forward to getting faster and stronger.

Runner's Blues

This is where I want to be!

But for now, I'm limping around the house in my old running shoes with a sore heel, a sore neck, and a sometimes pain in my hip.

What the hell happened?

Well, the first thing that happened was I started running minimalist. Three years ago I got my first pair, a pair of Merrells that were amazing! I have always worn flats, flip flops, and I have super strong feet...
Then I got my first pair of Vibrams. The first run I went on wearing them, I literally ran the fastest I had ever run! I love these shoes! But, like anything you love, I overindulged. I ran many, many kilometres with them and I ran down the heel... and hurt my bod.

And, all you social justice warriors out there, you say, why do we care about what shoes you run in? Granted. I remember how guilty I used to feel while the South Africans were fighting for justice and I was going to university, drinking, and having a good old time. It tore me apart. I remembered when I was in Africa and someone brought me her baby, the little one was dying. There was nothing I could do... 

But when I look at the running movement around the world - man, we are just out there running, in shoes, without shoes: men, women, girls, boys, wombin, people that identify as whatever they damn well please so long as it includes "runner" somewhere in the title. Titles mean so much to us though, don't they? I don't call myself a midwife, or do I? Do I do midwife stuff? Is it a duck or a zebra?

A duck LOOKS like a duck. A Zebra LOOKS like a zebra. A runner LOOKS like anyone. 

So, I was supposed to be running a half marathon on Sunday but I can't do it because I don't want to hurt myself any more. So I'm just doing a ten k and really looking forward to the challenge! 

I ran the other day in my new shoes, Sayonara Wave, it was great! No pain, just a little tired after five k, a little out of shape. I spent my run trying to empty my mind, had a sore neck as well from tension, because of some awful witch hunt thingy I heard about, also worrying about the inaccessibility of decent midwifery care and midwifery education for people who can't afford it.

But I ran anyway. Then I ran yesterday, lovely to be back out there, I ran through a leafy suburb behind our house, trying to keep my pace under six but I didn't, I kept it under 6 and a half though.

The thing about running is, you're competing against yourself, even if you're in a race, you just want to run faster and better than you've ever run before. You empty your mind: you don't worry about your kids, or why you ever left the farm, or how the people in the birth community are treating each other so badly, or why the good people die young. You just run.

It's kind of like life that way. You just keep doing it, and trying to do it better and better and better and better, and it feels so good to keep on keeping on!
So, wish me luck! And wish y'all luck and - hey, give it a try! You might like it!

W is for Why

As we move through this world on our way to who knows where, many of us try to do good. But we can never know whether what we do makes a difference or not, so what to do?

I just spent time at a conference about all things birth and beyond. I presented on several different topics, and met some lovely people there. I stayed in a room with the powerful Beth Murch, BirthKeeper and poet extraordinaire. We compared poems and had a laugh.

I met someone who was raised by her father, another one who has been drawn to herbs her whole life. One person who almost died giving birth to her child who stayed on the other side, dead in birth.

I met someone who is scared to tell people about her joyous and deeply satisfying birth because she has heard that people with unpleasant birth experiences will feel badly.

I spoke to someone I have admired for fifty years who has suffered loss and difficulties and still provides encouragement and belly laughs for others.

I met someone who I thought was a bitch and then she told me her story. She isn't a bitch. 

Someone else told me about her concussion and how she is moving forward with her life.

I met old friends and sat in their Sukkah and we told stories and made fun.

The tapestry is being woven, our lives continue or not, there's really only one way forward and that is through.

Through love, no fear.

V for Victory!

I got lazy with my gratefulness alphabet.

But I am super thank full that V stands for Victory, and now I want to talk a little bit about victory:

Victory means winning against yourself. It means means overcoming obstacles. It means admitting you're wrong. It means staying up all night with a birthing mother even though you're tired. It means getting up in the morning and going for a run even though you don't want to. It means feeling good about yourself when you know you could have done better.

It means being content with your bumpy old body, even when you feel like you're still 23. It means taking risks and laughing through them. It means holding out a hand for someone you think you don't like. It means doing what you believe in, even if its dangerous and difficult.

It means keeping your damn mouth shut sometimes. It means speaking up for what you believe. It means moving forward. It means sitting on your hands and not doing anything. It means being true to who you are.

It means having babies, any old way, or not having them, raising your children or not, living with someone your whole life or not, being alone, being an enemy, being a friend. Being a sister, or a brother, being a mother.

Hasta la vittoria siempre