(pronounced mike-all-lyn). I had already been in labor three days and falling asleep between each contraction. My Mother said, “you feel asleep crying informing me that you would need the pink dress”.
By evening, and with New Hampshire flair fall rain, Dana Micklin was born. Stood to push her into Molly arms with Pappa supporting my feeble body from behind. As I fell to the bed I saw the glimpse of her fire red hair and heard the soft cry of my first child. She was magical!
The in-home child birthing processes was an attractive notion for us then, money was tight and their wasn’t an insurance program for either one of us. Molly was a perfect solution, she took payments and she offered parenting classes prior to the delivery and follow up through 8 weeks. She had delivered several of her own children at home, she had the spirit of great wild animal, plus the character of a shaman twice her age. I knew it would be fine and that I was in good hands.
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My second child was born in the traditional method, forced horizontal labor with the doctor at my feet. The option of a mid-wife in the West hadn’t progressed to the level of my eastern homeland. Nearly five years later and separated from Pappa, delivery was accompanied by my Mother, my Mother-in-law and a numerous nurses, and a Lama doctor. Seemed cold and un feeling, actually uncomfortable, in that room. My water broke at home and I was two weeks late, his projected time to arrive was December 25th.
Pushing from a flat position was difficult, un natural and painfully worse than I remembered, seemed strangely odd to feel the force of my doctor fist inside me. The doc broke my sons shoulder bone as he eased him out, leaving a permanently viewed x-ray break for the rest of his life. (The evidence of that break would later be blamed on me when I rushed him to the E.R at 14 months.)
He wasn’t breathing, my Mother -in-law screamed “Oh, God he’s dead!” The doctor asked her to leave the room. I remember hearing whispers about his numbers, his mucus, and that he’d had a bowel movement in me….weird words to hear as I lay clutching my Mother’s hand.
After what seemed like hours I heard the soft cry of my second born child, Mason Rule, also with red hair like Sister’s.
My life, my path and subsequent career has been focused on their lives and the lives of other cherubs I care for. I have an innate sense for children's feelings, emotions and pain. Perhaps my own childhood lend me to care for children, or a force greater than I stirred the body in this direction. With no money, no savings and newly divorced the thought of leaving my children in the daycare system that was affordable to me just wasn't an option.
Lucky for me, I was fired from a reputable restaurant chain, fought for my un employment benefits and took all of 1995 off. Started both businesses that year and I haven't looked back since. Am I rich? No. Are all the bills paid monthly? Generally, plus I've paid off a new heating system, a Montana Van, carpet, ceramic kitchen floors, and numerous bills to the county juvenile system.
Its a bit of a roller coaster ride, daily, but its a ride that I'm in control of, I'm driving. With all this confusion in Washington and others deciding how the rest of us should live I still feel in control. Am I rich? NO!
