Sunday, April 10, 2011


Baby, oh baby.


There is something divinely intoxicating about the smell of a brand new baby. Something that can make you forget about all the unfairness and injustice and cruelty in the world in an instant. Make it all fade away. Make everything new and right and perfect. Fresh.

It's a smell that never ever gets old. No matter how many babies you hold, you never tire of it. At least I don't. It is part of why I became a doula. Of course I want to help women through their pregnancies and labors. I want to help them with nursing. But a big part of why I became a doula has nothing to do with those. Part of it was done purely for selfish reasons. I love babies. Especially the brand new ones. Can't get enough.

I've told my dear husband that it is in his best interests to support me being a doula. The hours drive him crazy. Babies don't always cooperate with weekends or plans. They interrupt my sleep and his. Still, he knows that he need to encourage this outlet. Simply put, I need a baby fix every now and again.

I need to breathe in that sweet smell. To marvel in the perfection. To witness the miracle.

Next to being a mom, being a doula really is the best job in the world.

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