I attended a Birthworkers Retreat at The Farm in Summertown, Tennessee and returned just a couple days ago. It was amazing. I am still processing my experience and trying to figure out how to move forward in my work. 

I was really curious how it'd feel to join women I didn't know, step away from my family and immerse myself in a community that is rich with history. I had NO idea how transformative my journey would be, and I'm really eager (but trying to remain patient with the process) to see how everything unfolds. 

Some parts of my journey that I am ready to share:

• Driving down to Summertown was filled with dancing along to tunes, listening to some books on CD, and just sitting in silence. It was a drive filled with anticipation, relief, and a little nervousness, too. 
• Arriving at the Welcome Center and being greeted by a kind woman, while surrounded by The Farm memorabilia, I was eager to set up my tent to avoid the impending rain!
• When I met Douglas Stevenson, our host for the weekend and Farm resident, I felt both settled and curious about the coming days. 
• I slept in my tent outside Deborah Flowers' birthing cabin, the space where we spent much of our weekend. It rained EVERY NIGHT I was there, but falling asleep and waking to rain (both actively falling and dripping from the trees after the rainfall) was so peaceful. 
• My first impressions of the women I met were among the lines of, they're nice! So many Canadians! Will I ever remember everyone's name?! My lasting memories are that we were brought together for the first ever Birthworkers Retreat for a reason, and I'm so grateful for experiencing the weekend with these amazing women. *The Farm hosts a number of midwifery workshops and other related workshops, but nothing specifically open to birth doulas seeking renewal and a weekend of learning. 
• Being at The Farm, I was in constant awe that this wasn't a retreat or vacation for the residents; this was real life and their chosen home. I wondered frequently throughout the weekend how I could ever integrate this sense of peace into my life after I returned to Indiana. 

There's more, certainly, that happened and when I'm ready to share the impact it all has on my work, I will gladly share. But for now, I'm tiptoeing back into my life and taking some deep breaths just as I start to feel unsettled by the uncertainty of the future. 

Photo Credit by fellow attendee Tara C.C.R.

I'm about ready to leave this morning for my adventure to Tennessee; I am leaving my sleeping husband and son in our warm, cozy bed while my older children are asleep in their room. I'm rarely awake by myself at this time of morning, where it's dark and the birds are singing their songs. The air is cool, damp and I'm just ready. I'm ready to explore, to step outside of my usual space and into a community that has nurtured so many individuals and families. 

I can't wait to discover more about myself, how to support mamas better and renew my energy for the little, more challenging things in life. 

I have the good fortune of attending a birthworkers retreat at The Farm Community in Summertown, Tennessee in only 9 days! I can't wait! I'm so excited!

Having read Spiritual Midwifery and Ina May's Guide to Childbirth (both written by legendary midwife Ina May Gaskin) during my pregnancies, I've dreamed of visiting The Farm for many years. While looking at their site, I was thrilled to learn there was a retreat offered to birthworkers (i.e., doulas, midwives, anyone supporting pregnancy and birth). Now, with the retreat just around the corner, I'm feeling a more mixed bag of emotions. 

I'm thrilled to be in such a sacred space, surrounded by the members of The Farm Community (it's an intentional community in addition to being a place where expectant women come to give birth, after which they return to their own homes). I have never lived in intentional community, though I think often how wonderful it'd be to live in close proximity to our dear friends, supporting each other in our parenting and personal journeys. 

I'm also a bit nervous to go off on my own, solo camping on the property (I'm not sure what to expect here- will I be on the property of a nearby cabin? Will I be in a meadow or in the woods?). What if I forget something critical? What if bring too much? 

My youngest is still nursing, and while I'm enjoying our nursing relationship, I'm also curious whether our time apart will push us further into the weaning process. 

I have never been away from my family, on my own, like this before. If I've attended workshops or trainings, I see them in the morning and evening. I am going to be without my pack for about four days. Yeah, this may not seem like a lot; I know parents that travel regularly for work, school or other reasons, and all is fine. But just like birth and parenting, I realize that my feelings associated with traveling are valid, even if it's someone else's normal. 

I'm going to be surrounded by other women that have chosen to immerse themselves in work that supports pregnancy, birth and "the fourth trimester". The work we do stays with us, even when we're not accompanying a woman in labor or witnessing her breastfeeding her child. All of us have been in more challenging situations, where we feel helpless or worried. And yet we (birthworkers) choose to continue in this line of work. When we're on-call, it's not a just a job, but rather a lifestyle. We spend, potentially, five weeks prepared to leave what we're doing, reschedule our day or jump out of bed, all in order to support an expectant family. Being at the retreat, I imagine it'll feel heavy at times, to possibly hear each other's stories, provide loving support and encouragement, all while honoring the stories that we carry with us. 

I have wondered whether I'll be interested in documenting my time away, and I don't think I'll know until I'm there. So, keep checking back to see if there are pictures and posts up, documenting my journey to The Farm!