The Women

I've been playing with this blog idea for months. I'm glad I waited, because the fullness of this sentiment needed to be revealed only in the fullness that time has to offer. 

I have been wanting to articulate how "the women" have gotten me through the darkest days of my grief journey. So many women have shown up for me in the almost two years that Trey left his body. Too many to count, in all shapes and forms. 

These are the women who never shyed away from my pain and the discomfort it evoked. These are the women who bathed and dressed me when I didn't know how (my mother). 

These are the women who helped me stay on track with the day to day grueling tasks of preparing a memorial service on behalf of Trey (my Aunt Janet and cousin Rachel). 

These are the women who came to my aide immediately to put together the hardest parts of that memorial service, the slide show. (Ashley) These are the women that went to the house we shared with Trey and removed all of his things to try to soften the blow of agony and disbelief. (And even carefully put them away in her own storage unit for almost two years...Ashley, again). 

These are the women that welcomed Chris and I into their homes and made us feel as loved and cared for as far as one could possibly fathom (my angel of a stepmom, Gay). 

These are the women who put me to bed and laid beside me while I wailed and checked my blood pressure, as I was sure something was wrong with my heart, even though nothing was. It was just broken. (Melissa)

"The Women" later became a part of my health team. It just so happens that every care provider (primary care physician, chiropractor, counselor, psychiatrist)I've had in the past two years have been women. This was not my intention, just luck I believe.  

Then, as I grew,  so did the women. As I became more active in the SIDS community, I was met with the deep love, understanding, and piercing strength of the other warrior moms I proudly walk beside. (Jerene, Julie, and Melissa, and Sarah to name a few). In their strength, I found my own. In my vulnerability, I was met with true empathy and deep understanding. These women will always be considered my family. Some I know better than others, but if any one of us needed the other... we would show up. No questions asked. 

Then, as I became stronger from "the women", new women entered my life and took me under their wide, expansive wings in the doula community. I would not be a woman who is so passionate about "women supporting women" without all the love and support from the aforementioned women. They lit a spark inside of me to be of service in a small way that they so freely demonstrated. They opened up their minds, hearts, and even homes to me (Louise). 

They root for me in this new phase of my journey and answer all of my many, many questions without hesitation, without reservation (Tia). 

And to my teachers, Domino, Sam, and Lindsay... 

Thank you for teaching us that it doesn't take an expert to hold space for another human being. Just sensitivity, intuition, and humanity. And that whether or not we realize it, we've all been "doula-ing" in other aspects of our lives all along.  Have you been supporting another being through a major life transition? Well, then you've already been, or are a "doula".  

On the last day of training,  Samantha Huggins said somthing to the effect of, "There has been a river flowing beneath all of us all along. It has been there since the beginning of time. But now, we all step into that river together." Birth is not new. Death is neither. But our recognition of those who have gone before us, inviting us in, to join them in showing up fully and whole heartedly for another human being in this capacity, is new to us. But we rejoice and fear not because we are joined by a link of unwavering support by... you guessed it... the women. 

To all the women in my life that have made me better, healed, and whole...I could not have gotten this far without you.

I promise to spend my whole life paying it back.