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​The Sunlight of the Spirit

11/30/2018

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Next week son starts his new job.
 
He will be working for City Harvest with their Institutional Partnerships Team.
It is a non-profit in NYC.
 
I am very proud of him.
 
When son was a younger son, he volunteered at City Harvest for community service requirements in high school. Maybe college too. I can’t remember. I do remember he really enjoyed working there.
 
I am happy. I am happy because I really wanted to raise my kids in an urban environment so that they reap get all the benefits such an experience might offer. And I feel son is reaping some of those benefits right now.
 
He is leaving a job that Wuzzy got for him in Educational Publishing. It was a very nice start but it was all the way up in Pelham. Which is pretty far from Brooklyn, or even Queens.
 
Now he will have a simple commute and get to work in Manhattan with all the convenience that brings. And all the luncheon choices.
 
When I see son over Thanksgiving, we talk about his new job and I am reminded of my 20’s, working in Manhattan, dashing about here and there, squeezing in the gym at lunch, lurching off to a doctor’s appointment before work. And, of course, many, many after work Happy Hours. Which sometimes got a little bit messy.
 
I don’t do that anymore.
But you already know that.
 
Son also got a promotion at SEEN, a company he does freelance writing for. He used to review shows. Now he is copy editing as well.
 
And next year, he will be MARRIED!
 
: O
 
I feel son is hitting his stride.
Walking in the sunlight of the spirit.
Son, I am so very happy for you.
Yes, I am.

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​The Ordinary Holiday

11/28/2018

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This weekend son is here for the Thanksgiving Festivities.
 
Daughter is here too, although she is not sleeping over. She is going home at night to her very own apartment.
 
Still it is very nice to have them both here together.
 
We have our usual Thanksgiving with turkey and gravy and mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes and broccoli and carrots and crescent rolls and cranberries. Before we eat we do our grats, which everyone pretty much hates except me. This is when you have to write things you are grateful for down on a little card and put the card in a bowl and we all pick a card and read the cards out loud before we eat.
 
My card says I am grateful for my family all being together.
: )
 
So we eat. Afterwards daughter makes brownies. Now we are really stuffed. After the clean up, everyone piles onto the couch to watch football. I don’t know when I started liking to watch sports, but I think it has to do with moving to Philadelphia.
 
Not too long and I am falling asleep on the couch. My bedtime seems to be getting earlier and earlier. I tell everyone, “I have to go to sleep.”
 
“Ok.” They say. “Goodnight mom.”
 
I am very lucky Philly stays up late. He takes care of all the late things like driving daughter home.
 
Next day I get up and go for a 17-degree run followed by yoga. When I get home son is just waking up. Daughter is on her way over so we can have leftover lunch. In between I am hungry so I eat a Millet Muffin.
 
While I am eating I tell son, “Kind of tastes like sand.”
“Sand?” he asks. “Why are you eating it then?”
“I like sand.” I say.
Which is true.
 
Daughter REALLY loves sand. When she was a toddler I used to have to chase her around at the beach and unfurl her little sand filled hands before she put them in her mouth.
 
We eat lunch and now we are stuffed again. We shuffle back to the couch. I sit next to son. I tell him, “It is nice to have you around son.”
 
Son says, “I know you like to have me around.”
“Ha! You’re a funny guy.” I say.
“I have picked up a few things over the years.” he says.
 
He is funny, right?
 
Then he says, “I am waiting for some mom classics like:”
We should go for a walk!
Give me a hug!
How about a kiss?
Let’s have a talk!
 
Actually, I do want to go for a walk with son. We have nice talks when we walk.
“Yes!” I say. “A walk!”
 
Pretty sure I see eyeball rolling.
 
Next day comes and I get THE WALK! We go down the street and into the field that leads to the woods. We walk on the path and talk about his upcoming wedding, and the quiet nature of son. We talk about daughter and about all the recent happenings in Philadelphia. I tell son how much I miss being able to be part of his day-to-day life.
 
“I know mom.” he says.
 
When we get back it is time to go bowling. Bowling is a holiday family favorite event. We pile into the KIA and drive to the bowling alley.
 
Philly takes command of the score keeping. Son goes first, then me, then daughter then Philly. It takes awhile to get our groove going but after awhile daughter is throwing strikes! I am still winning however. Mostly this is due to my experience on a bowling league when I was 12.
 
Philly is trying really hard not be all competitive. But really he can’t help himself. He is pretty competitive for a Buddhist. He makes a joke about all sentient bowlers.
 
When we are done daughter tries her hand at the giant claw machine. You know the one with all the stuffed animals packed into it that you can never get out? Wuzzy used to be very good at this trick. Daughter is not having the same luck. She really wants the toad. She almost has it, but then the claw releases.
 
“Aw!” she says.
 
A few more tries and we give up and head down towards daughter’s work to drop her off. On the way we listen to The Strokes and The White Stripes and Nirvana and have a KIA SOUL sing-a-long. This is one of my very favorite things. The sing-a-long.
 
We arrive. Before daughter goes into work we all do a little shopping along the avenue. I walk into a store and am immediately overwhelmed with a sudden no-sense-of-identity or idea of what I want. Thankfully daughter is thinking way more clearly and helps me pick out a very cute hat. The very same hat she has picked out for herself.
 
I am honored.
 
Soon it is time for daughter to go to work and so son and daughter say their goodbyes since son will be leaving tomorrow. I feel sad seeing them hug goodbye.
 
Soon it is time for dinner. Philly makes us a lovely salmon dinner. Son gets the plates and utensils.
 
“Look at all these plates.” he says, “You should donate some of them.”
“Donate?” I say. “You know what would be more fun? We could take them outside and smash them and make a mosaic.”
Son shakes his head. “Mom kind of likes violence.” he says.
 
!!!!!
 
“Not true!” I say.
“Well you do like to smash things.” he says.
“That is different.” I say.
 
We talk. We watch more sports. I go to bed early like I always do. When I wake up I have a little sad feeling because I know it is the last day of our little holiday.
 
It has been so nice. Just to be together.
An ordinary holiday.
Extraordinary.

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​Home Cookin’

11/24/2018

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Last night Philly made the dinner.
This is notable because in the past Philly has not been much of a cooker.
 
Actually, neither one of us has been much of a cooker. Most of our meals come from the delivery person. Yes, I am embarrassed to admit this. Our other option is homemade Nachos. We are expert at the Nacho dinner.
 
I was a cooker for a short time when I first arrived in Philadelphia and had lots of free time. Almost every night I cooked. Then I got busy and the cooking just sort of slid off the radar.
 
However, many people are busy and still find time to be cookers. Because they really like the cooking. Son is like this, a cooker.
 
I am not sure where he got it from but perhaps it is due to his food allergies. It is so hard for him to eat safely in a restaurant. But at home he can make whatever he wants dairy and nut free.
 
And so it is yesterday and Philly is cooking the dinner. He has chosen a nice piece of salmon. It looks very beautiful in the pan with all spices on top.
 
“Wow!” I say. “Look at you go!”
“I know!” he says. And he smiles.
 
He is also cooking rice. He wanted to make the little red potatoes but we ate them the other day when he cooked chicken.
 
“This is so great!” I say. Because I love it when food appears.
 
Not too long and it is time to eat. We set up the table. I find some beets I forgot we had in the fridge. We add them to the array. Also, lemon, for the fish.
 
Reader, I did not even know I liked salmon. Most of my life I have just avoided fish due to bad childhood memories of eating it.
 
“So good!” I say.
“Right?” Philly says.
“We should do this more often.” I say. Which really means I hope he cooks more often. Although I am a little inspired to get back into my cooking groove.
 
When we are done we kick back and have a post dinner chat. It feels good to have a home cooked meal.
 
Are you a cooker, reader?
What kinds of things do you like to make?
Maybe we can try one of your recipes?
Maybe we can!

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Extraordinary

3/10/2016

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​The other day I attended a birth.
It was birth number two of three mamas all due within a week of each other.
 
Yeah, yeah. I know.
Kind of crazy.
 
As it works out, Mama number 1 goes into labor almost two weeks early. So now I am just waiting for Mama number 2 and Mama number 3. Both of who have various complicated circumstances possibly requiring inductions.
 
So it is Wednesday and I get a text from Mama number 2: I am here for my check. They are admitting me to start induction tonight.
 
I can tell M2 is not happy. It is a week before her due date. This is not the way she was hoping it would go.
 
I text: It is ok. I know it is hard. But try not to worry. We will do everything we can to get things rolling. They will prep you tonight and I will meet you in the morning.
 
She texts: Ok.
 
I text: Meanwhile, let’s see if we can get ACUPUNCTURIST to come to the hospital.
M2 texts: YES!
 
A few phone calls and approvals and we make the arrangements. Acupuncturist will go to the hospital and work on M2!
 
I text: Woo!
M2 texts: I know!
 
This is very exciting reader. Acupuncturist has had very good results helping labors get going. Very good.
 
I text: Ok. Call me if anything starts happening. Meanwhile, rest!
 
I begin to prepare for the upcoming festivities. I make the necessary calls to get my yoga classes covered. I sit down with the family and go over the next 24 hours with them.
 
“I do not know how long I will be gone.” I tell them.
And I make sure everyone knows THE SCHEDULE.
So they can DO ALL THE THINGS while I am away.
 
Morning comes and I wake at 5:30. I look at the phone. Nothing. I think: I will wait until six and then I will call.
 
Right at six I get a text from M2: I have been having three or four contractions an hour!
 
I text: Go acupuncture!
She texts: OMG yes!
 
We make a plan for me to meet her after getting daughter off to school. By the time I am ready to go, I get a text from M2 husband: Contractions four minutes apart.
 
Whoa!
I text Doula Mentor: I got to go!
 
It is rush hour and so it takes me 40 minutes. When I arrive the parking goddess has left me an excellent parking spot. I pull right in.
 
I grab the DOULA BAG and scurry up to Labor and Delivery. When I open the door to M2 room she says, “Is that you?” in a little laboring voice.
 
“It IS me.” I say. And I go over and give her a big hug. “How is it going?” I ask.
 
We discuss all the happenings between contractions. M2 is having a lot of lower back pain and so husband and I are trading off with the counter pressure. In between I give M2 a little massage.
 
Everything is going really well and then suddenly, we stall. Everything slows down. Midwife comes in for a check. She tells us, “Not much progress. I think we should add just a bit of pitocin.”
 
M2 looks at me. I know she is a little scared. I give her the it-is-ok nod.
 
Not too long and the pitocin is hooked up. Inside I am a little nervous because I know how intense things can get in this kind of situation. However, the Birthing Goddess is with us. After just an hour of pitocin M2 is almost complete!
 
Woo! I do a little Doula Happy Dance.
 
“Soon you will see your baby!” I say.
 
Preparations for pushing begin. Instrument trays are rolled in. Lighting is adjusted. Gowns are put on. This is the part where I get very excited. In fact I have to work to contain myself. Soon, a new life will come into the world, right here in this room.
 
M2 is a champion birther. She pushes for less than an hour. Right in the middle she says to the room, “This pushing part is great!”
 
When baby comes out baby’s eyes are wide open! M2 reaches down and pulls her baby right onto her chest. That baby is looking all around reader. ALL AROUND.
 
M2 cries. I cry. M2 husband has the camera. M2 looks at me and says, “I feel SO good!”
She is all hopped up on her hormone birther goofballs.
 
I smile and I say, “I can tell. I am so glad!”
 
This time when the staff takes baby to do all the weights and measurements I go over there to be with baby. Baby is a very alert baby. We look at each other for a long time. I tell baby, “You are going to have a great life with these parents.”
 
Soon, it is time to transport the whole situation over to Maternity. And it is time for me to head home. M2 says, “I am glad you will make it home in time for dinner.”
 
Ha! This is funny because she is really serious. These mamas, they take care of me you know.
 
“Ok.” I say. “Text with you later! Congratulations everyone!”
“Yes! Thank you!” they say.
 
I grab my Doula Bag and walk to the KIA, waiting for me in its most excellent parking spot. It is just starting to get dark. I think: It is almost like an ordinary workday.
 
Except that on an ORDINARY workday you do not usually get to see a brand new being open it’s eyes for the very first time ever.
 
No, you do not.
 
EXTRAORDINARY.
That is what it is.
Yes.

Ode to Daughter June 2016

Tomorrow daughter will graduate high school.
 
The second born, graduating high school just after her brother just graduated college.
 
It has occurred to me, now, as a mom, that sometimes the second born seems to get SECONDS. I myself am a first-born. And so I do not have this experience.
 
And so, the second born will graduate. But there is nothing SECOND about this graduation. Daughter will sit upon the stage. She will be receiving a special award.
 
We do not yet know what this award is for exactly.
I have a few ideas, knowing who she is and what she has accomplished.
 
As many of you know, daughter has had her challenges. She has met them one-by-one. If you have a child with a learning difference and a special talent you KNOW this takes time. Effort. Communication. Travel. Expense.
 
Basically a lot of extra work.
Yeah.
 
But this day is not just about difficulty. This day is about accomplishment. And strength.
This day is about DAUGHTER.
 
Her ability to turn things around.
And to let go and move on.
The beauty of her voice.
Her innate ability to relate to children, and their response to her.
The gift of her writing.
Her politics and passion for the rights of all people, everywhere.
The comfort she freely offers friends and family.
Her interest in how the mind works and her  amazing ability to empathize and sympathize
And her tenacious nature, applied as necessary.
 
Tomorrow daughter will be a graduate.
She is already a young woman, full of dignity and grace.
 
I stand today, so proud of you daughter.
For your accomplishments.
For your resilience.
 
For everything you are.
For all you will become.
 
Rock on daughter.
Rock on.
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Crossing the Threshold

3/4/2016

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Today is Thursday. A day like any other day except I am beginning to write this, the DOULA BLOG. And as I begin to write I think about all the many resources out there for moms-to-be. And how confusing it can be to try to sift through all of this information and to begin to make difficult decisions on what things one wants and does not want for the their upcoming birth and baby.
 
I think about when I was becoming a mother. And how no one really told me the pivotal moment that birth would be.
 
Or maybe they did and I just could not hear them.
 
Mostly, that I would come to know unconditional love. Maybe for the first time in my life.
 
Beautiful, heartbreaking and wordless, taking me from a life I thought was surely MINE, to a life beyond the beyond. And you know what? Not always all butterflies and sunshine. Not always all NEW MOM GLORY. Plenty of days I curled up and cried, from exhaustion, from loving this little being so much and sometimes struggling to meet his needs. And as neuroscience advances we know more. Our brains actually change: Joy, attachment, anxiety, protectiveness-all begin with biochemical reactions. Researchers and neurologists are finding pregnancy “tinkers’ with the maternal brain in a way we can now map and understand. Adrienne Lafrance speaks in greater detail on this topic in her article, What Happens to a Woman's Brain When She Becomes a Mother.
 
It is my hope as we go along in this blog to touch upon topics important in pregnancy and birth and provide useful, simple, clear information with links to dig deeper. But also to cross the threshold of birth together and embrace the conversation on BECOMING a mother, on BECOMING a family.
 
There are times I speak with my clients months after their births. Much has happened, and they do not need any less support than they needed while pregnant. New mothers need to be heard. We somehow miss this as a society. New moms need to keep talking.
 
Because the conversation is important.  Because the SUPPORT is important. Evidence- based research is showing that women who hire a Doula and have continuous support in labor have shorter labors with better birth outcomes.  Researchers publishing in the Journal of Perinatal Education, in their article, Impact of Doulas on Healthy Birth Outcomes, found that expectant mothers using with a doula had better birth outcomes in every key area studied.

These are just two sources of information on the evidence and impact of communication and continuous support. There are many more, and the evidence is only growing.
 
The conversation of connection makes a difference. Our lives as women are made up of a thousand tiny moments, strung together, now weaving us into the fabric of many who have come before, and many who will come after. We are all connected. The fabric of motherhood begins now.
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    About Darlene

    Darlene is a doula-teacher-mother-designer-writer transplanted to Philadelphia from Brooklyn. In addition to being a Birth Arts International Certified Doula and RYT 200 Certified Yoga Teacher, she holds an MS in Education and is the mother of two mostly grown-up children. Darlene lives in Philadelphia with her husband and daughter, and misses her own son every day who still lives in Brooklyn.  Her writings on mothering and growing up female emerged as a sanity-saving device and productive alternative to crying on the kitchen floor. She can be found at darlene.vanasco@gmail.com or you can read the antidotal stories of insanity, reality and progress on her blog violet915.wordpress.com

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