Plan B

Hours ago I watched a baby slide into this bright world to the shelter of loving arms.  A family's joy and wonder was renewed with the cry of life.  For me, it was an evening of learning more about new friends, laughing together until baby was near and undeniable.  Walking from the hospital with a grin--a nice reminder of how rewarding and powerful it can be as a birth worker.

At the same time, I know my days as a doula are numbered....  Or, at least, my days as a semi-busy doula are.  The on-call lifestyle is difficult on families, bodies, and just about everything else.  This week it is more apparent to me after a night spent away from home and the subsequent day lounging around the house required to recharge my energy.  

I admitted it on the phone to one of my sisters this morning.  My sister, in all seriousness, replied, "You need to write."

Where has she been hiding for the past year-and-a-half?  Or, maybe, where have I been hiding for the past year-and-a-half?

In her defense, she does not waste much time on the Internet, so she has missed my million-and-one Facebook statuses/blog posts about my books.  I'm sure she believed she was shedding light on something I'd been passing over all this time.  At the very least, it made me laugh to myself several times throughout my morning.

Really?  You think I should write?  Eureka!

Make-up writing was my only weekend plan (besides make-up sleeping), but a simple text message looks like it may throw a wrench in those plans.  Books never text with emergencies, and books can be written accompanied by a nice meal....  But books, as wonderful as they are, don't hug you at the end of the day with appreciation for the minuscule role you play in their life.