Servant Heart

Everyone questions their ability from time to time. I’ve been doing it a bit more often since last weekend’s Homebirth Meetup.

It’s easy to be intimidated. Many of these women are much more experience in birthing and breastfeeding than I am. Even the ones who may just be getting started at least have personal experience to lean on.

Now, I’m confident in my skills. I’m confident of my learn-while-doing abilities. I’ve been fortunate to acquire plenty of book knowledge and am just waiting to try it out.
 

But I have other experience that others don’t have. I’ve spent my life in the servant role.
 

My younger brother has severe autism and mental impairment. He now has 24-7 in-home care, but there were definitely some long hours when he and I lived at home. You do what you have to do so his needs are taken care of.
 

I’m a mother. We could, of course, leave it at that. When I think of the mother role, I often think back to a scene that happened a few months ago. We were at our friends’ home, having dinner, when an unexpected guest showed up. “I’m starved! I haven’t eaten all day!” And he sat down to devour some dinner with us. I turned to my husband and whispered, “what so special about that? I can’t tell you how many days I’ve had to do that with our son. It happens.”
 

But, of course, guys don’t deal with that kind of sacrifice as often or as naturally as women seem to do.
 

Women deal with those kinds of things all the time, whether we’re mothers or not. We’re the ones pitching in to take care of siblings, watching church nursery, working extra so our partners can go back to school, putting off our own dreams for whoever else needs them.
 

Those of us who find that this lifestyle comes easily often find ourselves in servant roles – teachers, nurses, caregivers, stay-at-home moms. I spent years, before becoming a stay-at-home mom, teaching middle and high-school students the finer points of English language and literature.
 

And I can’t discount those experiences. In many ways, they are just as valuable as personal birth experience.
I already know how to serve. I know to provide as much comfort as possible. I know I can’t take it personally when the person I’m serving rejects something I try – I just try something else. I can keep my cool through hours of crying. I’ve had students throw-up in front of me (while I was pregnant no less). I’ve changed countless adult diapers. I can put off my own bodily functions for an amazing amount of time. I know my limits, when I need take a well-timed bathroom break to breath, regroup, and keep going.
 

I can do this…