why #dothedoula ?

photo from here

What is a doula? From Doulas of North America (DONA) a doula is:

The word "doula" comes from the ancient Greek meaning "a woman who serves" and is now used to refer to a trained and experienced professional who provides continuous physical, emotional and informational support to the mother before, during and just after birth; or who provides emotional and practical support during the postpartum period.

Studies have shown that when doulas attend birth, labors are shorter with fewer complications, babies are healthier and they breastfeed more easily.

I'm just a day away from completing my initial training as a doula at Bastyr University in Kenmore Washington. From there I will work towards achieving DONA certification and become a working doula.

Why do I want to be a doula? That's a little bit complicated.

**Warning, things are about to get real ranty**

I haven't always been outspoken, I remember being at Costco with my mom when I was probably 10ish and she wanted a mocha shake. She sent me to the concessions to make the purchase and when I got to the front of the line they were out of mocha shakes and then asked if a fruit shake with chocolate blended in would suffice. Thinking — wow, that sounds disgusting — didn't stop me from saying "uhh sure" because I was too bashful and shy and awkward to say "uhhh gross, no".

When I was in college I discovered The Business of Being Born, a documentary by Ricki Lake of all people primarily focused on natural birth and the state of the birth "industry" in the United States. I was, to put it lightly, appalled at the endless cycle of unnecessary interventions, needless c-sections, and in the end traumatic births taking place because they are most easily regulated, "safe", and speedy for the doctor and hospital. What-the-heck I thought, I need to change this.

I started small, spreading the word through my friend group about movies like The Business of Being Born, and books like Spiritual Midwifery by one of my now idols, Ina May Gaskin. I drug a helpless friend along to see Birth Story: Ina May Gaskin & The Farm Midwives which includes a pretty gnarly breech-birth video.

I also started reading, reading about birth but also studying things like c-section rates in the U.S. vs. other nations, the rate of VBACs in the U.S., infant and maternal mortality rates. I took anthropology courses that included sections on birth and asked many a question about home births, hospital births and everything in between.

It wasn't until I decided I really wanted to be a midwife myself that I had to sort out my feelings about birth and life and death. I decided, then at 23 and now at 24, I'm too young and inexperienced to become a midwife. I haven't actually seen a birth yet, I might hate it, and becoming a midwife is rather involved as one might imagine and not really worth doing and then quickly abandoning.

It was with those, what I consider to be quite mature realizations, that I decided to become a birth doula for a while, test the waters (birth-tub waters, as it were). I am going to witness birth in all forms, from natural home births to hospital births with doctors and epidurals and catheters. I will see all the fun that comes with operating under the roof of western medicine that treats the birthing process as scary and unpredictable and takes all measures to medicate those unknowns out of it.

Will I like it when my clients are told they should really consent to pitocin or else, or that they really need to have their amniotic sacs broken, or they should should should circumcise their newborn sons — I surely will not. Will I help them to gain a voice, stand up for what they want, ask questions, and be skeptical, I surely will.

For a myriad of reasons I have become probably a worse-case scenario patient for my doctor, eye doctor, dentist, etc. I do not take suggestions at face-value, I do not consent without proper information. When my doctor told me a treatment for my persistent hiccups would be low doses of anti-seizure, anti-psychotics, or anti-depression meds I said — but why, they're hiccups.

In college when the student health center refused to acknowledge a study regarding frequency for Pap tests in women my age published by the United States Preventive Services Task Force and jointly by the American Cancer Society, the American Society for Colposcopy and Cervical Pathology, and the American Society for Clinical Pathology I flipped out. I was told "we'd rather over-Pap you" and I wrote a scathing review of the information I was being given vs. what the study had revealed and sent it to the staff of the health center. My next visit went a little better.

Being a doula, for me, is all about giving women information and options. It's not really informed consent if the information being given isn't thorough, well researched, and true. It's giving clients the voice that I didn't have until I was 22 and had all sorts of dentists and doctors treat me in ways I didn't like or didn't think was necessary. I'm excited to share both my enthusiasm for birth as well as my enthusiasm for being a woman — what an amazing gift to help others express themselves, their choices, their wishes, and their feelings during one of the most transformative times in life.

#dothedoula

biker babe: how I learned to ride & purchased a motorcycle in 35 days

To say this was a momentous weekend for me would be an incredible understatement. Even now, as I'm home relaxing and watching Rooney Mara rock it on her motorcycle in The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, I'm choking back tears because I DID IT.

This weekend my dad rode over from Spokane and helped me pick up the motorcycle I bought on Thursday night from Everett. Today we went tooling around a high school parking lot to get my "sea legs" under me and then on a quick ride down to Lake Samish and back.

I wrote all about how I learned to ride through a 3 day motorcycle safety course on a separate blog entry here. I began with a Kickstarter course the end of June and took my 3-day course the beginning of July. Meaning it's only been 35 day since I first used a clutch.

Last weekend I bartended a wedding for a dear friend down in Skagit county and on my way down on Chuckanut drive I decided to quit being wishy-washy and find myself a bike. I quickly settled on a few options: a Honda CBR250, CBR500, and my favorite, the CB500F. My dad (and mom) tried to convince me to find a smaller, older, cheaper bike to start with and upgrade in a year or two once I was more comfortable with everything that goes along with a motorcycle instead of a scooter. Being the obnoxious independent child that I am I decided that I would throw caution to the wind and buy myself a brand new bike.

And I know what you're thinking, Emily, you will drop this on the ground and it will lose value and you will be mad, etc. etc. — you're probably correct, but for now, this is the only thing in the world I really want.

Last Wednesday I traveled from Bellingham to Marysville to try and sit on all three models of bikes (since they're such different styles and sizes the differences were very noticeable). I struck out at my first shop for sitting on the CBR250 and decided to continue south on the I-5 corridor and try my luck in Everett. They too had just sold their last CBR250 so I couldn't sit on it there either. Before you write me off as a total idiot because hey, I went to two bike shops without verifying their online in-stock models were actually in the store, I did call the last shop before driving to Woodinville.

The third try was indeed the charm and at the last shop I found a nice salesman to show me all three bikes. Immediately sitting on the 250 felt too small and that I would quickly outgrow it. I then sat on the CB and CRB500 models and began an internal debate of what kind of riding style I would be most comfortable with. The CB500F has a straight handlebar which allows for more "straight" riding style, while the CBR500 has handlebars that are more street bike style and force you to hunch over to hold them.

I decided that for my riding, and my style, the CB500F was the way to go. I called my dad and we began plotting insurance, maintenance schedules, dealership fees, etc.

Thursday I called four motorcycle dealerships along the I-5 corridor who listed CB500Fs on their websites to find the best pricing and nicest salesperson.

My first call, to Everett Powersports, turned out to be the right one. I was paired with a great salesperson who immediately gave me a quote and promised to match anything else if someone underbid him. After gathering the other quotes, which were much higher (how is the same bike priced over $800 differently from one shop to another in the same area I do not know) and with much pushier salesmen I called him back and began the process of reserving my bike and teeing up my financing options for my arrival after work Thursday night.

I also had to settle between State Farm, Safeco, and Progressive insurance. I went with Progressive, as their rates closely matched State Farm and the agent I worked with (if you're in B'ham and want her name and number she is amazing) was awesome. Because of my age (under 25) and because this is a fairly large, new, speedy motorcycle my rates are substantial but they will decrease once I turn 25 and gain some standing with Progressive.

The process of making all the calls, haggling over the phone and asking my poor dad about 25925 questions all paid off when I arrived in Everett Thursday night and saw this beauty.

My bike, whom I have named Trixie, is incredible. Being the aesthetic snob that I am I knew if I went with an older, uglier bike I would be displeased and that would translate to all sorts of not-so-great things. This sleek, black, modern bike is just what I need to get going as a real biker.

My dad rode partway to B'ham Friday night and the rest of the way Saturday morning to drive down with me and pick up the bike. After mulling over choices of: 1) me riding it (hah), 2) borrowing/renting a truck to pick it up in (ugh), and 3) someone else riding it I went with option #3 so long as it was my dad doing the riding. We drove down to Everett in my car and as we approached the exit it began to rain so hard it felt and looked like hail, to which I said, ahhh hail nah. Pulling up to the dealership it was POURING and was making me very anxious and my dad angry he left his rain gear in my 80º apartment.

We poked around the shop for a bit, I found a leather jacket (finnnnally) and we picked up oil to do the first oil change (done quickly after purchase to remove metal particulates from circling around gumming up things) and then it was time for the big trip. The rain cleared as we were preparing to head out and we made it back to Bellingham without incident and without me having a heart attack watching my dad follow me on the bike.

Today I rode around a high school parking lot for a bit, herking and jerking as I got a feel for the clutch and throttle. The weight was new and different but I didn't feel out of control at any point. We came back to my apartment for a breather and I decided I wanted to ride a bit more in a controlled environment and then perhaps go on a quick ride.

Getting out of my parking lot proved to be the biggest challenge of the day, I hadn't taken off from a stop on an upward slope before and managing the clutch, throttle, and front brake (to keep from rolling backwards) simultaneously caused me much difficulty.

We successfully got up to the high school and I quickly decided a longer ride might shake out some of my jitters about being out on the open road. I chose a jaunt down to Lake Samish and that went without a hitch, errr any hitches I feel like mentioning.

The feeling of riding on the open road, on a brand new bike that I navigated the purchase of almost completely on my own, was one of the most amazing feelings of my life. I hope I never forget what it was like to take the first ride.

I am so grateful my dad was able to come over and help me through this new beginning of my journey. Having someone to high five when we got to a good stopping point by the lake was priceless. Thanks dad!

So what's next? Now I try to figure out how the heck to 1) park it in my crappy parking lot, 2) secure it so 4 burly dudes don't come pick it up and take it, 3) start riding on an uphill slope! After that the world is my riding oyster!