Life Goes On

After a lot of prayer and soul-searching, I recently made the difficult decision to step away from pregnancy care with Open Door by early next year, after more than fourteen years of attending births locally (and close to 1000 babies!). It was definitely not an easy decision, fraught with lots of conflicting emotions and tears, but life goes on. I'm so thankful for the wonderful years working with incredible nurses, colleagues, and lovely patients. Here's to the future.

LIFE GOES ON

The miracle of birth,

of welcoming new life,

is something that not many have the privilege to witness.

So many years,

So many babies,

So many mothers,

So many families.

So many connections-- 

as a result, many familiar faces

seen at the park,

at the library,

at the market,

at the school, 

in the community,

so many of them now dear friends.

Once newborns, now children, growing alongside my own,

as life goes on.

So many tears-- 

from mothers,

from fathers,

and wailing infants.

Happy, joyous tears,

as well as tears of grief and loss.

Some from patients, 

and many my own.

So many happy days, 

and some of the hardest to bear,

when some of those babies didn't breathe.

There were more patients to care for.

Life somehow goes on.

Countless hours at the bedside, 

during marathon labors,

96-hour call stretches,

long nights and weekends,

(and then clinic the next day),

all while missing my own babies at home,

and taking so much time to recover.

Too stressed to snuggle. 

"Mama, you're too tired to play with us!" 

ringing in my ears, 

as their lives (without me present) went on.

Trapped in a call schedule for a more than a decade,

working weekends, nights, and holidays,

missing weddings, 

anniversaries,

birthdays,

Christmas mornings,

family travel,

bedtimes,

rest,

and freedom.

Honored to be present at families' major life moments,

but knowing that it comes at a great cost,

feeling so often as my own life

was passing me by.

Sleep interrupted,

2 a.m. phone calls, 

rushed drives to the hospital for precipitous births.

Emergency after emergency,

decels,

distress,

hypertension,

hemorrhages, 

C-sections,

vacuums,

twins

(and even a few breeches!).

Adrenaline, cortisol

constantly flooding the body,

rushing, yet trying to stay calm, 

the oppressive weight of hypervigilance

stealing the present,

and so often squeezing out the joy.

And then there came a heavy transition.

Loss of a community birthing center.

Loss of choice.
Loss of autonomy.

Loss of stability.

Loss of continuity.

Loss of the best clinic,

to join a large group,

a major hospital.

The interpersonal connections-- so vital to trust, 

and meaning,

lost in the broken system.

Too-short office visits to check the boxes,

going through the motions,

patients treated as interchangeable,

more as numbers, 

pathology, and problem lists,

than humans.

Depersonalization.

Disorganization.

Distance.

Quantity, not quality.

Shift work, 

not soul work.

The job not only hard, and very different,

but also feeling deeply wrong.

The long days--and nights-- 

now too much to bear.

We have been conditioned to 

stick it out. To persevere,

regardless of the cost,

to show resilience, 

even if your soul despairs.

To have grit, and not quit,

lest we seem selfish,

not hardworking.

To withstand moral injury,

without the space or time to heal,

even while we try to heal and care for others.

But if only we could all have the choice,

to leave the tyranny of toxic expectations, 

and relinquish the guilt,

in favor of the grace of escape

(knowing "when to hold 'em,

 fold 'em,

walk away,

and when to run" (1).

For only when our schedule aligns with our values, 

will we begin to know peace (2).

Midlife- 

is where I am. 

Life half over (if I'm lucky). 

It's been a devastating decision, 

a hard good-bye,

to release what has been my life's most rewarding work,

a huge part of my identity,

my calling,

a gift (to others and to me).

Birth work a unique type of medical care,

a special way to demonstrate and share love. 

But the body keeps the score, 

and gives a definitive sign that it's soon time to step away --

from being there for so many of those very first moments and breaths --

to being present for and living more of my own.

“You're replaceable everywhere but home."

Loved ones, social connections,

the ultimate keys to a meaningful life.

Rest can be resistance,

Change is inevitable,

but suffering is optional. 

A boundary is a type of self-care.

One can continue to love and care for families and this community--

sparing (and honoring) one's own life (and family) as well.

A chapter closes.

Life is not over, but takes a different path.

It is not necessarily an end of a career, 

but rather the light bending into a new direction.

Maybe once out of the rain,

I will once again be able to feel the warm blessing of the sun.

Feeling the glimmers of hope at what the future holds,

even as I step into the unknown,

which may even bring more joy than what lies behind,

my "one wild and precious life" (3) goes on.

1. Don Schlitz/Kenny Rogers, “The Gambler”

2. Steven Covey

3. Mary Oliver, “The Summer Day”

Lava Beds & Tule Lake

We have looked forward to the kickoff for summer for some time!  Kelvin and I took Friday off as the kids were off school for a four-day weekend, driving up to Klamath Falls, OR in order to visit a remote National Monument (Lava Beds) that we wanted to get to for a while, covered by Iver's fourth grade National Parks pass. 

We were able to get tickets for the kids to zipline at "Sasquatch Hollow," at Crater Lake Zipline on the way.  It was Niall's first time (Iver came here when we visited the area four years ago in August of 2021), and he loved it (except that he's so light that he got stuck mid-wire a few times and had to get pole-bailed out).

We headed to our lodging at the Running Y Resort just outside Klamath Falls, OR. Our friends, the Spellmeyers joined us, and we got a bigger rental next door to the one we stayed at last time.

Iver recreated the picture!

May 2025

August 2021

Deer in the front!

We headed out on Saturday to Lava Beds National Monument, about an hour's drive from our rental.

We headed first to the Visitors Center to get a (free) caving permit, which allowed access to the lava tubes/caves that this volcanic area is known for! We had to bring helmets and headlamps, with good reason!  (Spelunking with the Spellmeyers!).

We started off in Mushpot, one of the "easy" caves, with limited crawl spaces...

... but the caves (including Hercules) got harder (for all but Niall)!

We exited one early and walked the cave loop path to our cars! 

Skull Cave (named after bighorn sheep skulls found nearby), requested by Sophia, was nice and roomy. 

We walked down a long staircase to an "ice floor."

No bats were found (some caves were closed due to bat activity), but the thought of them freaked out Olivia. 

We then hiked the ~0.7 mile trail up Schonchin Butte, a cinder cone volcano in the park named after a chief of the Modoc tribe. 

We had views of Mt. Shasta as we climbed (apparently even the rim of Crater Lake is visible on a clear day).

Even though there was a good bit of complaining as hiking is not their preferred activity, the kids did well, hiking at ~4900 feet of elevation.

On Sunday, we went back to the northern part of the Monument and started at Gillem's Camp, which housed about 600 Army soldiers during the Modoc War in ~ 1873. We hiked up Gillem's Bluff Trail, with another great view of the Lava Beds and nearby Tule Lake Wildlife Refuge. The weather was perfect for high-desert hiking! 

Animal-spotting game: Lizard!

"Lizard tamer"

Next, we headed to Captain Jack's Stronghold, where the Modoc Indians defended an Army assault from behind walls of lava. 

Sophia narrated a historical guided tour for Beth, Iver, and me. 

Two ducks! (picnic lunch).

On our way out of the park, we stopped at Petroglyph Point, which has over 5000 individual rock carvings, or rock imagery of undetermined age but possibly up to 6,000 years old! 

We drove by Tulelake Wildlife Refuge, spotting many birds of species we don't know, but also some pelicans and egrets!

Tulelake is also known for Camp Tulelake, which was an interment site for over 29,000 people of Japanese ancestry during WW2. 

We stopped briefly at the tiny Visitors' Center in Newell, open just a few months of the year (starting this Memorial Day weekend!)

Origami

The kids enjoyed spending the afternoons relaxing and playing in the resort pool as well as at the basketball and sand volleyball courts. The Spellmeyer girls are very energetic and sporty, which makes for fun play. 

Both Olivia and Sophia, competitive swimmers, were thrilled to give some one-on-one instruction to our more novice boys. 

La-la-la-Lava... Ch-ch-ch-chicken! (If you know [Minecraft] you know!).