On Forgetting to Remember

Today I had a three hour conversation with a client who I haven't seen in ages. The last time I saw her was in passing at Costco while I was still pregnant with Carina. So at least 8 months ago. We hugged and talked about meeting up. But that didn't happen immediately. People collide when they need to most, don't you find? Turns out she needs me, and I need her.
We met first when I was in a frantic "get back to normal" phase after Cecilia was born. A week after, to be specific. She was one of two women who came into my life as clients that week, and who would turn into two of the most important and transformative relationships I have developed in my adulthood. Reconnecting with this woman was amazing for my soul's focus. Have you ever had a conversation with someone where you're coaching them or giving them advice and you realize that you're saying exactly what you need to be hearing yourself? Yes. It was one of those.

I told her a story about something that happened during my labor with Carina. I was in the zone, at home in my bathtub, being the walrus. (Anyone who knows my birth story knows what that means. If you want to know, please ask.) It was about time to head to the birth center, and Kris had gone around letting everyone know. Francesca came into my bathroom, into my sacred birth space, crying. She told me she was afraid that I was going to die.

In that moment, I met her right where she was. I went to her in her fear, and I counseled her. I told her what a good job my body was doing. How strong I was. How my body knew just what to do, and so did the baby, and that we were working together so beautifully. I told her that on the off chance that something wasn't happening correctly, I would be whisked off to the hospital for a c-section just like last time.
Just like last time. The time I needed an emergency c-section. The time that I was working so hard to forget this time. The time that I was comparing this experience to, and the time that I was so afraid would be repeated.
I was talking to my daughter, but I was also talking to myself.
I was coaching myself. Pumping myself up. Telling myself all the things that a good doula would. "You're doing it."
"You're so strong."
"You can do this."
"You're going to be OK, no matter what happens."

I didn't realize until later that Francesca coming in at that moment needing what she needed was so necessary. But since the time that I did realize that, I look for opportunities for personal growth in the things that I am saying to others, and the things that they require from me. It's all a series of tests, right? A series of possibilities, and of chances for growth. But sometimes I forget. Sometimes I forget for a relatively long time.

So meeting with this woman and then getting to tell that story? Double clarity whammie. Doubly redirected.

Having three children at such different stages, plus another adult human to share life with, provides at least a hundred opportunities a day for these moments. Add in my clients and friends and you've got a couple hundred more. The day is full of chances. It's just being able to spot them that's the challenge.

Often they are overlooked. Sometimes they present as annoyances. As another someone needing another thing. As a bad mood or a temper tantrum. But my faith was renewed in the power of taking a breath and diving in as if it was your own issue. Because, in truth, it probably is. And even if it's not, I am positive that there's some aspect of that work that will propel you forward if you let it.