When I’m asked what drew me to birthwork, I always have a different answer. I have a dozen early memories of being curious about  birth. I grew up hearing my own birth story regularly, and it always struck me that my birthday was an important day for my mom, in a different way than it was for me.

I’ve been particularly compelled by how little time we give the profound significance of new life, and the incredible transformation of the new parents. I remember being in the bathtub, playing with my plastic bath toys, when my dad came in to say that a cousin had been born. And then life just went on – and all I could think about was that somewhere out there was this new baby cousin that had magically materialized.

A few years later, I sat under a table while a new mom told the veteran moms at a picnic about a magical, short, unmedicated birth. There was a subtle but palpable tension in the air as the other women countered with their grueling stories – a whiff of judgment, of righteousness, of jealousy. I remember thinking some version of “now what is this and why is everyone so bent out of shape about it”.

By my early teens, my local library had made me even more curious about the changes our bodies make, and about the role of the midwife (or the witch, or the hermit) in those changes. While I’d heard of doulas, it seemed to me that they were just half-baked, less powerful midwives – I figured I would become a midwife when I grew up. 

Long before I became clear on what a doula actually is and then became one, I worked in other caring roles. Throughout my teens and early twenties I worked as a nanny, assistant teacher in a Buddhist Sunday school, and as a personal care assistant for young people with disabilities. In 2016, I took a rudimentary training in massage, and kicked off my career as a massage therapist. 

I quickly realized that I loved the work – the stability, adaptability and connection in particular. I enrolled at CenterPoint Massage and Shiatsu School in their two year program studying EastWest Bodywork. It was an intense season of life, but a gift that has never stopped giving. I was able to study Swedish (relaxation) massage, therapeutic (deep tissue, more specific) massage, and shiatsu (a Japanese technique that is like acupuncture with fingers instead of needles). I also attended my first doula training through DONA, which I paired with prenatal massage classes. 

Somewhere along the way I’d also taken over ownership of the little massage practice I’d been working for – Total Solace Massage. The business has gradually transformed over the years. What began as a harried employer (me) and a small crew of massage therapists, evolved into a co-ownership between myself and my longtime friend and colleague, Mischa. We’ve worked together to create a sliding scale program with as much access to our community as possible.

That takes my story right up to the present day. I retrained in my capacity as a birth doula with Heather Christine and Rhonda at Community Aware Birthworker this past winter, am undergoing mentorship from Alicia Kornacker of Little Moon Birth and Baby, and have had the privilege of witnessing and supporting beautiful births.

With each birth I’ve witnessed, I’ve learned and relearned that there are no right or wrong ways to birth. Each birth is different and, whether easy or hard, birthing people and their families deserve to be seen, heard, and cared for during that transformation.

Outside of my role as a birthworker and massage therapist, I live with my wonderful partner and three cats in the Seward neighborhood. I train in Brazilian jiu jitsu at X2 Fitness under Professor Gina Franssen. I listen to a lot of podcasts and audiobooks, I am learning to bake bread (mostly just focaccia), and am in the (slow) process of befriending the neighborhood crows.