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Chicago Red Tent event

“If you want to understand any woman you must first ask about her mother and then listen carefully. Stories about food show a strong connection. Wistful silences demonstrate unfinished business. The more a daughter knows about the details of her mother’s life – without flinching or whining – the stronger the daughter.”
― Anita Diamant, The Red Tent

My Grandmother has 14 children. Each Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, and well, basically any other reason to get together she happily brings together the legacy of her life. 14 children, 14 in-laws, 32 grandchildren, three great grandchildren … She sings and whistles as she moves familiarly through her kitchen. She pours her heart and soul in measuring cups, stirring them in alongside her spaghetti sauce, her secret cheesecake recipe, her coveted coffee cake that we’ll share over coffee and political debates around the crowded dining room table.

For as long as I can remember I’ve loved listening to these voices. Sharing stories of when my mom was young, sharing the latest books they’ve read, recommending new doctors, churches, books. I would fall asleep with the plastic couch protector sticking to the side of my face as the conversations spun deep into the night.

When I was pregnant with my first child, I had a lot of changes in my perception of myself and the world. But one of the most impactful was a sense of community with other mothers. I had been the first grandchild – entering the world in my own special way, the “doll” for my doting aunts and their girlfriends to play with, the flower girl to many weddings. I was the one paving the way, the awkward high school years… the first to go off to college… the first to get married. But this time was different. I am the oldest daughter of an oldest daughter, and giving birth to my first born – a daughter – somehow made me feel connected to a lineage of women before me.

Circles of women

I recently went to a Red Tent event hosted by the lovely, Katrina Galbraith of Graceful Birth and Families. It was this wonderful opportunity to talk and connect with other women – as well as celebrate my womanhood. We shared stories of child birth, but the broader theme was our own self acceptance and power. I wasn’t planning on staying long and I only knew one other woman there. But the bond was immediate, the conversation flowing freely, a few tears and laughter. The moon was high and the stars shining before I left.

The Parent Coop and Graceful Birth and Families have teamed up to provide Red Tent events, Mother Blessings, as well as Hypnobirthing education to the Chicago and North Shore area. We invite you to join us for our first quarterly Red Tent event. Share stories of what has made you rejoice in your womanhood, or what has burdened you. In this first quarter of 2017 we want to release those burdens and will go forth into the new moon with renewed power and strength.

For more information on our first Red Tent Event, and to sign up, check out our facebook event.

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My Doula Journey: All Roads Lead to Today

I’ve done a lot of things in the last decade, and looking back, they all prepared me to be the doula I am today.

Yesterday my alma mater, Monmouth College, celebrated its founding with their annual “Scholars Day”. A day to celebrate the history of excellence and the commitment to education and achievement.” The day is welcomed with song – a tradition remembered fondly by many alumni.

This video stirred the reminiscent nostalgia in me and caused for some person reflection. A small liberal arts college in a rural town off the highway in western Illinois, this school was my “home” for four years. It’s where I met some of my dearest friends, where I fell in love with my husband and was where I became who I am. And while there is no way I could have realized it at the time, Monmouth was the beginning of a path that made me the doula I am today.


1. Monmouth College taught me tolerance.

I was a religious studies major. The college was Presbyterian by tradition and the chaplain was an amazing woman (and now dear friend) ordained as a minister in the Disciples of Christ Church. I was raised Catholic and, just a year after 9/11, the first class I walked into on that campus was a course called “Judaism and Islam.” There was so much hate and fear in the world, but that course, and the rest of the religious studies curriculum taught us to engage in open dialogue and non-judgmental discourse.

I would spend the next four years learning about and experiencing other faith traditions. The education I received was built on the ideas of tolerance, respect, and understanding.

Today I walk into a birth with the same mindset. I walk in realizing the my experience and story has nothing to do with the woman giving birth. As a birth doula, I cannot use my own cannon as a standard, but rather meet a laboring mother where she is, learn her experiences, and support her in her own story. It’s this foundation of openness and empathy that helps me see the birth experience through the mother’s experience, and help her welcome her baby in her own way.


2. Monmouth College taught me fundamentals.

I was a music major. Sure, I may have started college with dreams of grandeur – becoming a world-renown opera singer. But this was actually the beginning of a much different path, one that I never could have planned. And the tools that I would learn – appreciation for other styles of music, the ability to analyze the technical elements of music, would come back to serve me as a music therapist and ultimately in music therapy assisted births. I am now able to appreciate the musical preferences of moms and uniquely use their music to support them in all stages of labor.

Understanding the technical elements of music, the emotional pull of certain chord progressions, the way different instruments resonate in parts of your body, really matters when a mom is working so hard to bring her baby into the world.


3. Monmouth College showed me a larger world.

I had the opportunity to push myself out of my “normal” environment and embrace other cultures through travel. I am incredibly grateful that I had the ability to study abroad – to see the world through the eyes of different cultures and different experiences. We all make choices and live our lives in our own ways. To appreciate the beauty in each culture and celebrate the differences.

I grew up in a fairly culturally diverse suburb of Chicago, but I didn’t truly understand the diversity of ideas and lifestyles that the world offered until I went out and experienced it. Culture is more than just the clothes you wear or the food you eat. It’s the way you see the world, the way you define the world around you. I strive to be open to the ways in which other cultures see the world, especially when it comes to birth and parenting. My cultural understanding of birth may not be your worldview and that’s ok! I learn to not deny my personal experience, but also to not become so rigid in my view that I deny your experience. Unbiased, nonjudgemental support is paramount in YOUR birth experience.


4. Monmouth College taught me to Guide, and Be Guided.

I was able to be a part of a ton of extracurriculars … sometimes I think too many. I sang in the choir, served as a student chaplain, worked at the ice cream shop, and was a resident assistant, among others. This isn’t a brag – it’s a reflection on the diversity of situations from which I was able to learn. In some instances I was a leader, in others I was a member of the team. At times I needed to learn, others I was able to teach. I learned that there is a place for action and a place for silent support.

I’ve been the overzealous upstart and enthusiastic activist. I’ve been the wet-behind-the-ears newbie looking for leadership. I’ve been intimidated by those with success, but I’ve also been the leader on the front line. I have worked with a variety of people with a variety of backgrounds, socioeconomic status, and views – what I have found is that on this journey, we are all the same. We are just people, doing our best.

In my journey, I’ve found my place. Here as a doula. Here beside you. Where the I hold your hand and empower you to advocate for yourself. Here where I play the music you love to match your body’s rhythm. Where I gently guide your spouse to be the person you lean on. Where I inspire the power you possess, where I cradle someone powerful as they rest in the pause of the hard work.


It is here where I stand firm on my educational foundation, where I accept you as you are, where you are. Where I support the decisions you make for yourself. Where I honor the life you birth, and the mother who is then born with your baby.


Our lives are a journey … a winding road. I eventually would go on to perform with a small opera company, work with teenagers, offer music therapy in the hospice setting, and eventually find my calling as a doula. Ten years ago, I never would have guessed that this is the work I would be doing. But I love looking back on the journey and seeing how each experience made me who I am today. I am so honored that I am able to provide unconditional, affirming support to mothers in labor.


My path has shaped me to support the women I meet in their unique journeys as mothers.

You were made to birth your baby (1)


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5 Best and worst parenting Super Bowl Commercials

Let’s be real, we had no loyalties to either the Denver Broncos or the Carolina Panthers. We were there for the national anthem, the halftime show, and the commercials. And here are, in our opinions the best … and the worst, when it comes to depicting babies and families.

1. Puppy Monkey Baby


What the actual Hell? Mountain Dew is known for its weird commercials, but this one goes to a new level of bizarre. We all sat in shock after this one ended, unsure if we were horrified or amused.

But it is telling young people that babies are cool. So that’s good I guess?


Subaru – Dog Tested


This one is cute. With sentimental music that would make any parent who’s struggled with a temperamental sleeper tear up a little bit, it hits you in the feels.

It’s not really clear what the commercial is about until the final moments, but we like it.


Doritos Ultrasound


Doritos, like Mountian Dew, loves to go weird, and they did it here. We don’t love the depiction of dad as the brainless oaf who brings a bag of chips into the ultrasound.

But maybe doulas should start bringing Doritos to births, to help get the baby out. It was a natural birth … sort of.


Heinz Ketchup Game Day


Families take all kinds, and for most of us, our families wouldn’t be complete without our pets. And dachshund’s in hot dog outfits are pretty great.

It’s also nice that, there are options for everyone in this commercial, even those of us in Chicago, where ketchup on our dogs is a cardinal sin.


“SuperBowl Babies”


Well played NFL. It’s cuteness actually overpowers a couple of sad facts.

  • Seal sold out and rewrote his 1994 Grammy-award winning song for a morally corrupt corporation that makes money off of grown men beating themselves into permanent brain damage.
  • For most of us, Chicago included, there haven’t been Super Bowl Babies in our towns for decades. Unless you count all those babies made during last year’s Super Bowl blizzard. Chicago’s Super Bowl Babies came shuffling out in 1985, which means they turned 30 this year.

If you’re like us, you missed the last quarter of the game because you were trying to put your own kids to bed. You can watch all the 2016 Super Bowl commercials here.

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#ilovemydoula – World Doula Week

10428100_947177441989826_7686206455558704071_nMy husband, Chris, was amazing during the birth of our daughter. Not only was he so incredibly supportive of my decisions, he attended the Bradley Birth classes and helped me do the exercises each night. He worked tirelessly to prepare our home for baby (a total rehab in the two months before she was born) and then during the birth he walked with me the entire journey. We would walk together and as a contraction came he’d stand behind me, supporting me both emotionally and physically – I literally was sitting in his lap as he stood behind me.

Days after she was born we went to the chiropractor and it was amazing that he was “out” in all the same places I was. We literally had traveled together. My pelvis needed adjustment, his pelvis needed adjustment. My leg and his leg needed help in the same places. It was like this incredible, tangible way I could see how much he had been with me. I know I couldn’t have had the experience I had without him.

I also had an amazing doula. Kate Taylor with Creative Childbirth Concepts had been someone I got in touch with professionally because we are both board certified music therapists. But from the moment I met her to interview her to be our doula – I knew that she was supposed to be in my life. She has this amazing presence about her, peaceful and calm.

She walked into our house the night our daughter was born when I was laying on the couch crying. It might have been transition, where contractions were increasingly painful, or maybe just the emotions of the day (I had already labored on and off for more than 24 hours). Kate encouraged me to get up and trying something new to deal with the pain. She was a perfect addition to the birth, bringing with her guidance and gentleness. She changed the feeling in the room, helped us regroup, refocus, and reconnect. She got the music playing, got me on the birth ball, and helped me vocalize in a productive way. I never had the experience where I wanted to kill my husband, never lashed out at him like you see in movies… but I also remember that Kate had a way of touch that was just different than anything Chris could do. It was almost like energy coming from her body and working through her hands to ease my pain. To calm and relax me.

And she did more than just help me. She helped Chris when he wasn’t sure what to do. She supported him, telling him how to help me. She gave him direction. She never seemed to just take over – instead Kate empowered both of us to be a part of this birth. When Chris was exhausted she told him to rest, when he was unsure she placed his hands, when he didn’t know what else needed to be done, she pointed out the next thing to do. She was there for both of us, helping us be a team and allowing space for my husband to be an active part of the birth.

Right before I started pushing, I 11013547_10204343665816187_6034165385484712257_nneeded to move out of the bathroom and onto the bed. I had people telling me where to go and what to do, and quite honestly I was exhausted and overwhelmed. Kate leaned in close to me and whispered, “I know everyone is telling you what to do, I know it’s a lot to take. But you can do this. You can birth your baby.” It was the perfect thing to say. Exactly what I needed to hear. The encouragement and empowerment that I carry with me now two and half years after that birth. I did do it. I birthed my baby. My body is amazing. How many women walking around today think to themselves, “My body is amazing”? What a fantastic gift I have been given!

I love Kate. She gave more to us in those 36 hours than I could have ever imagined. Ever expected. She knew the journey, she led us through it. Not just me but all of us. She was our guide and because of her I conquered, I succeeded in having the birth I truly dreamt of.