Providing Professional Doula Services to Families in Greenwich, Westchester and NYC

February 2013

The Power of Words

Mom, mom, Guess what?!?!?! There's a contest and I'm gonna win a bicycle!!! I screamed on my way into our dimly lit, curtains drawn apartment after an exciting day at The Maybrook Elementary School. We lived down the hill from the school and we walked by ourselves to and from school each day which was very much the norm then. As I slammed through the door, my heart filled with possibility and excitement, my mother lifted her head from the couch opened one eye and murmured these devastating words, “don’t get your hopes up, everyone thinks they’re gonna win.”

It was a writing contest. Write the best essay, win a BICYCLE. Now, let me make sure you understand. I didn't grow up in a family where you went to the store and bought a bicycle when you wanted one or most things for that matter. I do remember having bikes before this (and after it). Someone was throwing out a bike frame so we picked it out of the trash, handlebars off of a stolen neighborhood bike, the seat from someone else’s…. But NEVER a brand new sparkly, shiney, never before ridden bicycle!

The stinging words of my mother made my heart sink and my stomach turn. (UGH! It’s hard to write unpleasant things about your mom even when they’re true) I was completely discouraged and hadn’t even picked up the pencil yet. In fact, I never picked it up. They essay was never written, it was never submitted and she was right, I never won the bicycle. I heard my mother...Read more

Desperate to Interact!

Erica was about 2 weeks old and I was struggling withTHE BABY BLUES I didn't know I was, but like more than half of women having babies each day, I was. I had insomnia, they said, “don’t worry about the dishes and the laundry, sleep when she sleeps!” if only it were that easy… I was irritable, the tears came randomly without cause and the mood swings were immeasurable. As a doula trainer when I am teaching about the signs and symptoms of postpartum depression and we talk about The Baby Blues, the remedy is fairly simple. Encourage rest, place a strong focus on nutrition and hydration, stress the importance of support and give mom a judgment free zone where she can talk through it all. However, so many moms find themselves exhausted, barely eating, forgetting to drink water, feeling alone and judging themselves!

That was ME! 20 years ago we didn’t have cell phones, email, texting, facebook etc… ( I know…. How did we survive, right?) When my husband left for work, that was it, I was on my own. Well, there was Cathy, my friend who had a baby a week earlier who was on maternity leave that I could call or visit with, if I wanted to hear about her baby’s amazing accomplishments, which I DIDN”T! It seemed her goal in life was to convince me that he’d write his first novel by his 6 month birthday… I still roll my eyes when I say...Read more

A Mother’s Love

My Journal Entry On May 14, 2008

Dear Diary,
Every time a vagina opens and a brand new person emerges, I am overwhelmed by my emotions. The physical, emotional and spiritual achievement of another woman makes me a stronger, more confident more spiritual woman myself. Feminine pride overwhelms me when I witness another woman achieve her rite of passage and become a mother. During childbirth there’s often a time in which the soon-to-be mom doubts herself, telling me, “I can’t! I can’t!” But I know she can, and that’s one of the reasons I’m there, to help her and support her, and remind her that, yes, she can!

“You can do it!”
“Your body is doing exactly what it is supposed to do”
“You are strong!”
"You're beautiful!"
"You’re doing it!"

These are the words that I spoke gently to xxxxx in the moments before she gave birth to her precious daughter, xxxxx. When that little girl was born, and her wet slippery body was placed skin to skin on her mothers breast I was mesmerized by what I witnessed. The birth, itself, was beautiful enough, but when that woman received that baby and their eyes locked, the world stood still. It was as if no one else was in the room. Not the Doctor, not the nurse, not her husband and not me, her doula who stood quietly at her side in admiration of the strength, wisdom and beauty that poured out of her. The only thing that existed on Earth was the raw emotional connection...Read more

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