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Swimming and More

I swam more than a quarter of a nautical mile today. That sounds more impressive than the measly 24 laps I did. A nautical mile is 80 laps.

But, I loved being in the water! It was fabulous. It was cool and clean and yummy. I love the smell of chlorine. Swim classes were going on, but I could only hear periodic yelling or laughing or noises since my head was in the water a lot. I floated around, too, soaking up the cancerous sun; it felt heavenly. I would have kept going, but my joints began to pull and hurt so badly. That sucked. I see the doc on Thursday afternoon. I best be making a list of what hurts so's I can tell her: I want to see THIS doctor and THAT specialist and get THAT test done. Isn't it fun directing medical personnel? They love me more when I do that.


I had a really good day yesterday. I met with a doula in town that is somewhat interested in apprenticing and perhaps with me. We talked about experience and stuff and I thought she had a lot more than she had, but I have heard good things about her in the doula community, so that helps. And she'd continue doing doula work as an apprentice and that would be great. I like her lots. She's very positive and we have similar pasts, so that's good. She is quite Christian, but with a capital C so she doesn't condemn me to hell or anything. At least to my face.

Another doula referred a client to me to discuss stuff about NSTs and I talked with her and sent her my article I wrote on NSTs and how to prepare for them. When we got to the bath part, the woman said she'd been soaking in Epsom Salt baths and I asked if she had PIH issues or was really swollen or anything. Oh, no... it's what the doula said to do. Well, I adore the doula, but had to correct her information. (Epsom salt soaks *deplete* water from the body and that would be HELL for women doing an NST!)

She was very receptive to the information and understood why I said what I said.

But, it was the first time, as a care provider, that I had to counter what a doula said. I'd heard about other midwives doing that. In fact, midwives (and certainly docs and nurses) tend to be rather snotty about doulas and their information giving. On the major doula list I am on, a woman wrote saying she suggested nipple stimulation (she wrote "nipple stem" - she could at least spell it correctly) to a woman who was "due" on Saturday. She wanted to know how much of each of the teas should she have the woman drink to start labor. I was pretty horrified by the question and wrote about how to offer information without "suggesting" she do anything.

The midwife I work with said THAT is what gives doulas a bad name. Doulas have no business suggesting *anything*. But, instead, offering places for women to read and learn and then the doula can clarify from there. This, I am sure, is a hot topic.

The NARM statistics are eeking into the press. It's nice to see them getting out there. My favorite article about the study... that says homebirth is safer than hospital birth with a Certified Midwife... at the end of the article it said, "If you are considering a homebirth with a midwife, please consult with your doctor." Isn't that absurd?

I'm sitting at the office waiting for my client to go into labor. She insisted I check her today and she is 6cm dilated. She asked me to stretch her cervix, so I did. She went home to have sex and get an acupressure foot massage and I hesitate to drive the hour home in case she kicks ass into labor starting out at 6 centimeters! But, I could live at the office for 3 days like this, too. Eventually, I'll want a shower.

Or, I could just go to the Y!

I cried sitting in the sun today.

I watched this delicious man half my age teaching little kids swimming lessons in the deep end right by me. It was me, just a minute ago, teaching classes and strutting around the deck of the pool and being 17. I watched his muscles moving, his lack of body fat allowing every ripple to be seen, and I looked down at my ghost-white fat-filled legs and just started crying.

I will never be 17 again. I will never have a body that people sigh over and wish they could touch because it looks so delicious. I will never lose the massive amounts of skin I have accumulated over all these years. I will never be as healthy as that man that was sitting in front of me. I felt so old and so used up. And that was so sad.

I've had a run of postpartum depression calls this week. I am handing out the Postpartum Health Alliance's phone number like candy. Isolated moms with histories that include massive depression. I'm trying to bring them into the mom's group here, but I know some won't last because they are bottle feeding 2 week olds and will flip seeing toddlers nursing so casually. Where do bottle feeding depressed moms go?

I put some pics of home up on my door here at the office. It makes me feel good. I'm so homesick.

Hopefully, next time I write, it will be after the baby is born!

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