Welcome Bill

Back to Saskatoon! We're glad you're here and can't wait to hear you light up our community tonight! Thanks for being my peace loving friend!

Bill Bourne

Nana Taggart

..graduated from nursing school when she was on the younger side of 60.  Who does that?  Who goes back to school as an adult and bothers to finish up?  Why would you bother?  As my dream and the dream of some of my peers, Eileen, Lisa, Janice, Robin, etc, etc to become a Midwife draw closer to reality; I am often faced with the question of "how in the h... are we supposed to balance families and work and school?" I'd rather to have waited until I know who and what I am before putting myself out there.  As I witness my beautiful children growing into such amazing people, I am so glad I had them first and waited to do this now.  I Thank God for this life!

Gone in the Morning

Lately I've been finding that by 8 or 9pm, I'm so bagged I cannot even hold my head up.  As much as I'd like to fight it, I just can't.  I'm 40 I guess and my body and mind are starting to surprise me sometimes. I used to tease my parents about eating at 3pm and being in bed by 8pm but now that I'm there (some of the time), I take it back.  My Dad used to get up around Midnight and we'd often find him asleep in "his chair" early in the morning. He didn't always do it but usually there would be snacks involved.

This morning Arthur barked at 3am because he doesn't think people should be walking outside at that time of night (or day). I got up and hushed him and try as I might, couldn't go back to sleep.  Oddly, when I have to wake up to be somewhere early, I have a really hard time without my coffee and yet, phone me at 2am and tell me you think labor may be starting and I'm wide awake. I'd rather hear the phone ring than the dog bark :)  So, as I wander around in the wee hours with no interest in late night or early morning TV, I find myself pondering the meaning of life starting with birth.  When I wake up this early sometimes I get sad and anxious about all the areas of my life that are not working perfectly well. I sometimes wish I was on a warm island with nothing to eat but pineapple, mangos and coconuts.  I pull up homework or blog or check facebook.  I try not to eat, even though I'm hungry; because one of my morning thoughts is "you really need to lose this weight so you can attend births without postpartum back pain."

My journey to Africa is getting closer, now into the OMG this is really happening stage. I'm really going to be a Midwife (some say I became a midwife the moment I felt the spiritual call). I seem to be feeling some anxiety. All the 'what if's' are creeping up.  I'm struggling to get my brain wrapped around which homeopathic's to take along? How many shampoo bars should I take? Maybe I should take all that I have and give them as gifts from Canada? And the most challenging question, How? How did I get here? How did I get lucky enough to figure out who and what I am before my knees give out? How am I going to get healthier so I can stand up for 24 hours at a time and still be useful? How am I going to pay for all this and pay my bills? How can I possibly maintain my existing relationships when my head is reeling? How can I keep my cynical feelings from creeping into my current reality? How, how, how???

I want my Mom... and my Dad. At least with them I could say the words "I'm having a cynical morning" and know that they would let me sleep as a reward for my stellar use of the dictionary.

Back to 2011 - Soon I will see my bedraggled little, curly headed charmer as she slowly wakes up and I will know that I must stay the cold weather and only go away if it involves catching babies and finishing university. Heather is my fourth child, now a teeny bopper. I call her GF (grand finale), my power birth, HFM (short for Heatherfeathermerryweather), Pickle and her least favorite, "Heath." As I parent young adults and teenagers, I am consistently reminded of my "Reality," even while they sleep.

This song is probably about a lover who is "gone in the morning" but for me it's an expression of those mornings when I'm climbing into bed after a night of Blessed Birth and of times I just wish for warmth and fruit and clarity of thought and no responsibilities to take me out into the snow.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cvTMWz-pvHU 

Footling Breech Stands up to Birth

My first born is 22 years old today.  And while she is probably sick of hearing it, I love telling about her birth... While waiting for 1989 to arrive, I found myself nesting in my little 1 bedroom apartment in Edmonton; wondering if I was really going to be able to do any of the required parts of birth. I'd done nothing to educate myself about birth but somehow had the idea that the we would be just fine.  I was still young enough to think I was invincible and that nothing was impossible. I felt contractions as a mild inconvenience and didn't think much of them but knew that something was different.  Not knowing any better, I went into the hospital about 2 hours after I started feeling the contractions. Not being very empowered and feeling admittedly scared by this time, I took the first shot I was offered and drifted off to sleep.  By this time on January 1st, I was back in active labor and was feeling as close to ready as I would feel before hearing the words "dangling footling breech something something something... emergency C-section!" I was so naive, I had no idea what any of this meant and no one was taking a moment to explain anything to me.  I don't remember the rest of the birth.  But...  The real birth was hours later, when I was given my daughter. I fell in love with her the moment I saw her and knew that I would lay my life down for her. It was like I was born too.  I know lots of women say that. We say it because it's true. My baby knew that she was mine and ate like a trooper within seconds of arriving in my tired arms. My whole body woke up and I began to live in a different way than ever before. Began living for another human being.  The journey of parenting has brought so many challenges and joys. And now as I watch other Mom's be born, I see them learning and reading everything they can get their hands on.  The advice I wish I'd been given when I began this journey would have been to trust my body to know what to do and to follow the baby where ever she decides to take me.

Needless to say, she was ravenous after that many hours of separation and was not out of my sight for the rest of our stay.  She had the cutest little cry and sometimes when I really miss her presence, I play the cassette tape I have of her first laughter.  Aryn, as you return from Ghana for the second time, please enjoy your Birthday.  While you adjust to life back in Canada keep your feet under you as you make your way home ~ Mom Loves you!