My son threw up early this morning.

He came into our bedroom and in the saddest voice, told me that he had a headache and his stomach hurt. Instantly, I was awake. I helped settle him on the couch, placed a bucket nearby, offered him some medicine to help his headache and told him to call to me if he needed anything. 

Sure enough, less than an hour later, I hear him throwing up, calling for me in between moments of sickness. Living in a small bungalow and our bedroom steps away from the living room, I was at his side quickly. Once he was cleaned up and feeling a little more comfortable, I pulled his twin mattress out to the living room to be close by. 

I lay there, listening to his breath and deciphering his noises. I would hear him move, and I'd open one eye to see whether he was hunched over the bucket or simply turning in his sleep. This continued until I had fallen back asleep, only to be woken to my youngest looking for me and my husband getting ready for work. 

It was so hard, knowing that I couldn't really do anything to take away my son's discomfort. I could sit with him, offer him water, offer reassurance. But I couldn't do anything to take away his tummy ache or feeling of sickness. In that way, I felt so helpless. 

How many times do we just want to "take it away", so someone else doesn't have to feel ill or sad or disappointed? How many of those times do we have to accept our limitations? How many of those times do we have to trust the process, even if the process is full of pain, heartache or loss? 

It is not easy to sit by and watch someone experience difficulty or disappointment. But is that for us to "fix"? How many times have you shared that you simply want to be heard, rather than be offered a solution for your ailment or challenge? How do we simply "be" with those we love, even in the face of turmoil? And is there a time when we must step in to assist or provide a solution, and how do we know that time has come? 

It's not easy to know what to do and when and how and for how long. It's not easy to be with others when we know they're hurting. But watching, listening, and being tuned in can help us decipher when we must "be" and when we may be helpful through "doing". 

 On a bitter-cold evening, I had the pleasure of sitting with new parents. They were part of my first childbirth education series offered out of my home through Olive Tree Birthing, and I was thrilled to see them walk into my living room, holding their babies. 

As I listened and watched and sat, I couldn't help but smile as I remembered the mamas sitting in my living room, pregnant bellies and curious wonderings for how their birth stories would unfold. I think about the papas, so supportive of their partner's preferences and eager to learn ways to help her during the stages of labor. 

After these lovely families returned to their homes, I thought back to the many families with whom I've worked, all the way back to November 2008 when I first had the honor of being with a family as they prepared to meet their baby. I think about the countless families that walked through the doors of Bloomington Area Birth Services, eased themselves into the comfortable couches and chairs, and prepared to meet their babies. I taught with knowledgable and caring women, dedicated to providing information and support during this transitional time. 

I have seen many of these families throughout my years in Bloomington. Some families have moved away, and I have the pleasure of watching their child (or children!) grow via Facebook. And there are also so many others that have gone their own way, raising their family in another town, state or even country. 

What I may not communicate well, is that I remember each of these families. Some memories are not as strong, having only interacted once or twice, perhaps, as someone came into BABS for prenatal yoga. Others, I have this invisible thread that loops around my wrist and back to them, having witnessed the birth of their baby, the birth of their newly defined family. 

I read the birth stories I have given to the families with whom I've worked, and I am brought back to the day (or night) when their sweet, new person arrived. 

Let me say, these births are not about me or even how they make me feel! I am there for you, to provide the support you seek. I am there for your birth partner, too, sharing reassurance and guidance. 

So, if you see me out and about in town, please say hello! And if you're no longer living here, please share a picture of your (now bigger!) child! I love to see how these new people grow into big kids. 

image from Nikki McClure's 2015 Calendar
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I've turned the calendar from January to February. A month has passed since I've transitioned from 2015 to 2016. We've packed away the lights and ornaments. I've both turned up the heat and added layers to stay warm on cold days and thrown open the windows to get fresh, mild air through our home. 

As you look ahead to the coming months, what transitions are you anticipating? How are you setting yourself up for a supportive and positive experience? Do you know what resources are available? Are you one to plan ahead or figure it out in the moment? 

My calendar is filled with classes, Mothers' Circles, prenatal and postpartum doula client visits, and more. All of this feels good, and yet there's no way I can do any of it without proper support. In order to feel well-prepared, there's a decent amount of preparation involved, not only to support my work but to support the needs of my family, as well. 

How does this look? Well, part of feeling well-supported and prepared means knowing what is available. If I list out my challenges, then I take into consideration what resources are available. I also look at my whole self and address my emotional, physical, spiritual and mental needs. Taking time to consider my needs requires me to look deep at what's working and what's not working well. I celebrate the good and I consider how to support the changes that I may need to make. 

Maybe for you, this includes making time to meditate, stretch your body, or sit with friends. Or maybe you need to be more gentle with your new role as "mom" or your growing body as you move closer to your baby's birth. Perhaps you are trying to continue all the responsibilities you carried before any of these new changes, and to get to a balanced place, you may need to reconsider what you can actually do today. 

A lot of what I'm continuing to learn is the idea that whatever is happening now, is part of a phase. We sometimes look at where we are in life (i.e., our job, our hometown, our interests) as being constant. But those "constants" have more variability than we may be ready to admit. And sometimes these "constants" require us to take a step back and reevaluate whether it's still serving us well. 

Taking a look at what we need, what resources are available to support those needs, and reevaluating who we are is part of your journey. You will know when you're ready for this, and you will know how often you have to revisit these questions. 

Know that you are not alone in your challenges, and that you're not alone in your joys. Olive Tree Birthing's Mothers' Circles offer you an opportunity to find support and community. Contact me to learn more or to register.