Samuel Peter Morris

Friday morning arrived and Cian awoke without an alarm to greet us at the predetermined 5am wake-up.  The C-section was booked for 0730 and we needed to be there almost 2 hrs ahead of time. Cian has some sort of sixth sense when it comes to waking up for important events so it wasn't entirely shocking he was awake.

We arrived at the hospital and were greeted by my colleagues and friends.  It's so nice to see how good the people you work with are at their jobs from the patient perspective.  I really do work with incredible people.  We went upstairs and were greeted by more colleagues and the amazing women that were doing my surgery - women I completely look up to.  I had decided on a repeat C-section for a few reasons - 1) I had a midline incision with my big surgery with Emily and the giant cyst and 2) my grandmother died of high grade serous ovarian cancer and the current recommendations include taking out both tubes so I needed surgery and 3) I still had residual cyst on the right side that needed to come out.  My anesthetist had called me the day before to make sure it was ok with me that she was doing my spinal.  It's a bit nerve-wracking when you are doing procedures on your colleagues and you could tell she was nervous.  I knew she would do a great job and my anesthetic was excellent.  I tried not to listen to what was happening inside my belly but it was impossible to not hear when they called for Arista powder to help with bleeding or when they realized that the baby was swimming in an ocean of amniotic fluid. The surgery took a little longer than expected due to the bleeding and the anesthetist who was nervous to start with was pacing that her spinal would start to wear off (which it was as I knew what step of the surgery they were on by the end cause I could feel where they were but I still wasn't in pain). Certainly I was distracted by the beautiful baby they brought to visit halfway through the surgery.  

We had chosen the name Samuel Peter Morris very early on in the pregnancy.  All of our kids have first names that we liked for various reasons but weren't a namesake.  Samuel means "God has heard" and we had done a lot of soul-searching before having a third baby.  I felt that we had enough room in our hearts for a third kid. and Keith had arrived at a similar conclusion now that our other kids were a bit older and less constant work.  But still we were excited and nervous about what it might mean to bring a fifth heart into our mix.  Life had plans for us though as Sam had decided he was joining our family and that was that - no bleeding, no miscarriages, no pregnancy complications - he was on his way.  Our kids all have middle names that are an homage to someone special.  I have missed my grandmother so much since she passed away and this baby was due close to her birthday and I wanted to honour her especially in the setting of the kids calling this baby "Manta Ray". Her maiden name was Peters so Peter seemed like a good plan.  It also played double duty a bit as one of my friends from college who was such a wonderful person was one of the RCMP killed in Mayerthorpe - he certainly embodied the strength of "stone" as the name would suggest. I hope each of my kids have characteristics of their namesake middle names.  

Sam was brought into the world in a room full of exceptional women.  In fact, Sam and Keith were the only men there.  Cathleen was my nurse and she is a total delight - what wonderful warm hands to greet our son.  Cathleen isn't from Malawi but she has family there I believe because we often greet each other in Chichewa in the hallways or in the OR.  She is a treasure and the first arms to cuddle our son. 

I have never managed to get a picture of Dr. Logan who has safely delivered all three of our children into the world.  She has a quiet calm about her that puts everyone at ease.  Dr. Diamond assisted her on the C-section for Emily and when she found out I was pregnant again wanted to come for this birthday despite lots of her own health concerns.  She is what I picture when I think of grateful resilience.  She has every right to be frustrated with all the difficulties she has been handed but instead she walks up the four flights of stairs to the OR at 0730 on a cold January Friday morning to help bring new life into the world.  That's the kind of inspiring people I work with - it makes coming to work a joy. 

We went to recovery and other people popped by to say hello and welcome Samuel into the world.  Cathleen took care of my like a mama and transferred us to a waiting room on LDRP.  Over the course of the day other friends came to visit and bring well wishes.  Keith had convinced me to let the kids go to their full day of school and come after and that was a good choice.  They arrived with the little cameras they had gotten from Santa and were totally enamoured with their new baby brother.  They took pictures of all permutations of people.  The couldn't get over how small he was even though he was the biggest of our children at 8 lbs.  They were enthralled by his umbilicus and cord clamp which of course would be super interesting if you had never seen it before.  

That evening I was by myself as we had planned that Keith would be home with our other two kids and I would stay at the hospital at night by myself.  In the late afternoon I thought Sam's colour was a bit off but it seemed to be because he was cold and he pinked up with the blanket.  At shift change (730pm) he turned blue-grey again just lying on my lap and I called the nurses who ran and scooped him out of my room.  That was the longest 20 minutes ever as I waited to hear how he was doing.  At about the 10 minute mark I called Keith because I still couldn't get out of bed post-surgery and was there immobile and alone in the room.  Keith is always very calm but when I called to tell him about Sam he was in the middle of the bathtime/bedtime routine and you could tell he was nervous.  He passed the phone to my mom who said she would come so I wouldn't be alone.  The nurses returned and told me that Sam needed to be suctioned for what they thought was a mucus plug.  He had been seen by the paediatrician who had been at the desk and by neonatology and his sugar was low at 1.8 or 1.9 so they had given him glucogel (oral sugar) to bring that up.  He had perked up quite quickly and wanted me to know he was totally fine.  That was a huge relief.  Keith called after the kids were in bed and despite his typical practicality and knowing Sam was ok I asked how he was and he told me he was nervous and worried about Sam and wanted to come back to the hospital to cuddle Sam himself.  I fall in love with him a little bit more each time he shows that sweet side that he usually wraps up in steady calm.  

Keith then stayed that first night and Sam was watched for a couple hours at the desk as they monitored his sugar overnight.  He needed a second dose of glucogel but then his sugars normalized. He had a couple top ups with formula too to maintain his sugars but he wasn't really into that as he is a very good breastfeeder (Cathleen called it in the OR - she knew he would feed well).  He wasn't very interested in formula top-ups.  He dropped 9% of his weight after Day 1 probably in relation to his sugars and the night nurse thought we might have to stay to get his weight up but the daytime nurse was very seasoned and she wasn't worried.  She knew we would top him up if he wasn't feeding and the public health nurse would come the next day so at the 48 hour mark we got to go home.  The second night had been uneventful except for the weight loss so I felt much better about taking him home.  The paediatrician on call saw him the morning the day after his blue-grey incident and wasn't worried about him so that was also reassuring.  My recovery was a lot less eventful.  I didn't really have any incisional pain but the shoulder and collar-bone pain was intense (gas pain).  It's always good for doctors to be patients - it keeps us humble and hopefully makes us better physicians through personal experience.  

Keith and the kids came to pick me up when we were discharged and we packed ourselves up as a family of 5.  The kids were so focused on being good helpers and wanted to carry his car seat so badly despite being told multiple times they couldn't.  They were just as excited as we were to come home - probably even more so.  Despite our concerns about what it would be like to be outnumbered by our kids we have seemed to have fallen into being a family of 5 without too much difficulty.  I feel so settled with our kids and how much we love each of them and how much they love each other.  Each family is different I guess and ours was waiting for Sam.  We are so thankful that all of us are healthy, that we have the means to spend some time together as we get to know Sam and he gets to know us and for each of the beautiful hearts that inhabit this home.  Blessings abound. 

Our family of 5 (soon to be 6 as we await Groot)

The Manta Ray

Tonight is the last night of our family as we know it.  

Tomorrow we will be 5 instead of 4.

I did not anticipate being this nervous.  

We decided last year that we had love in our family that we wanted to share with one more little human.  We weren't sure if it was meant to be but in May we got the answer to our question: there was room for one more little Morris in our life. 

Keith and I were nervous then too. We've been out of baby stage for a while so jumping back in seemed crazy.  It took us a little time to settle in to our previous decision to have a 3rd baby and to realize the realities of that despite being quite excited about all the possibility.

We told the kids relatively early so they didn't think I was sick.  I knew they would be excited but I hadn't realized the extent of their excitement.  It might be the most excited they have been about anything ever and that includes Cian who is typically enthusiastic about a wide variety of topics.  

I had miscarriages before each of my first 2 children but not this little person.  I have taken that as a sign it was meant to be as I feel that perhaps if we had a 3rd miscarriage we would not have had the courage to try again and our little family of 4 would never know 5 (or 6 as the kids remind us because we never want to forget about Groot).

In utero Cian was the Morris Monkey, Emily was the Morris Moose and I let them choose what animal this one would be.  I did suggest Morris Manatee because they are slow and loveable but the kids wanted Morris Manta Ray.  They searched on Pinterest for pictures of ocean nurseries and help decorate and get ready.  I hadn't remembered that on Moana the grandma turns into a Manta Ray and when that realization washed over me I knew the kids had made the perfect choice.  

We meet you tomorrow little person.  We are nervous and excited to share our lives and our family with you.  Hopefully you love our crazy antics and lots of hugs and kisses.  You are already very very loved. 

Kelly and Kyle

We spent this weekend in Vancouver and the only thing that would inspire a trip during a rainy November is the wedding of two very special people: my "baby" cousin Kelly and who we affectionately refer to at our house as "Pickle" Kyle. 

My cousin Kelly was 11 when Keith and I got married and there are 13 years between us so I remember being so excited when she was born.  Kelly and her brother Adam were my "babies/dolls" just as I had been for their mother.  Over the years I have watched her grow into this extraordinary, gentle and kind heart.  We share a deep love of our grandparents as the oldest and youngest - the bookends of cousins.  

Emily and I met Kyle at Grandpa's funeral.  I hugged him immediately - he was the sunshine of that day for me.  He was clearly such a good fit into that family - even with my British curmudgeon, Uncle Simon!  He obviously loved my cousin and in the wake of the loss of Grandpa it was such a gift to meet someone that he so clearly would have enjoyed talking to over a long cup of weak instant coffee.  He was kind to Emily who thought he was great fun and he dared her to get a pickle from the church catering ladies.  She was brave even then and returned from the kitchen victorious with her pickle held in the hand high above her head - hence...Pickle Kyle.  

When Kyle took Kelly to Rome for a romantic trip most of us knew that there was a good chance of a proposal.  We were glad not to be disappointed.  Our little family knew that (if we were invited) we definitely wanted to be there to celebrate two well-matched, caring, beautiful people.  

Kelly and I texted every so often over the year as things got organized.  They settled on a small and beautiful venue that fit the experience they wanted.  I was happy to come and bring my zoo but didn't want to impact such a beautiful and intimate experience.  They were very clear that they wanted our kids there and so we started preparing.  Sunday dinners in our house were coursed meals with a lot of manners and appropriate utensil usage.  My favourite was Emily eating a salad and Keith asked if she liked it and she said "No I don't like it, but I'll eat it cause I want to go to the wedding!".   Then Kelly and Kyle thought it would be way nicer for them to have kid food and they got to look forward to fancy cheeseburgers.  Kelly hoped for a bite and after weeks of thinking about it the consensus was "maybe".

I spent the week before the wedding at a physician leadership course in downtown Vancouver - making my personal trip serve double-duty as a work one.  I got the lovely couple all to myself the weekend before the wedding and they were relaxed and happy and how could you wish more for family that you love?  

Keith and the kids came into town on Thursday night.  We had a great weekend at the Vancouver Aquarium with Jo, Arya and Gavin.  We went to Science World with Mel and had sushi with the entire Vancouver crowd.  We got to spend some time with my parents as we stayed at the same hotel. On Friday night we went to the Old Spaghetti Factory and had dinner with our little side of the family.  Kelly is totally right that we've all gotten together for sad things over the last several years and it was so nice to get together for something happy.  We are a classy bunch throwing bread to each other around the table and making sure everyone gets the "proper" ice cream. How great it was to see Emily playing with her spaghetti "Lady and the Tramp" style with Tante Betty.  How is it that there are people in the world that you don't see very often but when you get to spend time with them, even a short time, they fill your heart right to the corners?  That's my Aunty Betty for me.  

Sunday evening was the big day.  Keith and I realized that when faced with a highly anticipated event that our children head in two different directions: Cian rises and Emily melts.  She is her mother's daughter and gets a bit overwhelmed and so there were many tears with tights and a dress that touched her, hair that wasn't exactly what she wanted, etc. etc.  She cried and whined for about 30 minutes before we had to leave.  In contrast, Cian got dressed, Keith put some gel in his hair, he checked himself out in the mirror and realized he looked pretty darn good.  He also said that I looked "stylish and gorgeous" which was an overstatement at best as I was trying to unsuccessfully wrangle his sobbing, blotchy-faced sister into her dress.  Children are never boring.

The ceremony was at 4pm and was approximately 12 people.  We were to arrive about 30 minutes before and when we arrived on the second floor there was the beautiful bride who graciously and enthusiastically hugged my very excited kids. Her dress was beautiful but it was outshined by her spirit that lifted my kids for big hugs with no concern to her very white, very chic dress. She was radiant.  We settled in with my parents for the ceremony as it was very close family and it was the perfect first wedding for my kids.  They asked us to not take pictures and to be present since it was such a small space.  In the hectic nature of getting ready for the wedding I hadn't thought about the fact that I would then experience the wedding.  The officiant (who was excellent) asked us to stand as the bride entered and as I turned to face the door it all hit me.  Thank goodness my mom had Kleenex.  My mom was in front of me closer to the door flanked by my kids, my aunt behind me waiting in the first row and standing beside Keith I felt every feeling I hadn't let myself feel.  There was most definitely a generation missing in that room and I felt it so acutely that it washed over me like a tidal wave as Christine Perri's song " A Thousand Years" played as Kelly walked in.  Thank goodness Keith's shoulder covers most of my face even in heels.  The ceremony was beautiful.  It was authentic and personal to the two of them.  It honoured their relationship, their love and their hopes for the future.  It's exactly what I want my kids to see as love that is honest, real and true.  

There were pictures afterword and then the dinner was at 530.  There were 47 people coming for the dinner and although that sounds small it didn't feel small.  I suspect that's because there were a lot of big hearts in the room.  My kids were treated so warmly by Kyle's family and Kelly and Kyle had put so much thought into their experience.  There were disposable cameras on their place settings and "I Spy" lists of things they were supposed to take pictures of.  They thought this was the most amazing idea ever invented.  They took their "jobs" very seriously and everyone was an incredibly good sport.  So often kids are excluded in favour of the wedding experience but despite this being a very adult and posh affair there was such grace and kindness extended to Cian and Emily.  

Their hamburgers were brought out with our salads and Kelly and Kyle came over for their bites while the kids howled and protested.  It was great fun.  After dinner Kelly and Kyle came over again with treat bags full of Guardians of the Galaxy fun.  Basically they are ruined for all future weddings now.  

The speeches were thoughtful about both the bride and groom.  My dad did grace and mentioned the love modelled by my grandparents and spoke out loud what all of us were feeling. How much they were missed and how much they taught all of us.  My aunt and uncle did a great job and Adam spoke too which was a surprise to me and was wonderful.  Keith and I have spoken before that we hope that our kids have a relationship like Kelly and Adam (#siblinggoals).

We took our zoo home around 9:30pm and walked back to the hotel.  They packed up all their treats (and showed Kelly our present too) and gave their millionth hugs to everyone.  "Always together for the important moments" is something I hope to hold as a core value in my heart.  This was an important moment and I was glad we were together, holding the ones not with us in our hearts as we held on to each other.  Congratulations Kelly and Kyle - we were so honoured to be with you.  Much love and blessings as you move forward in your life together.

Emily's Asthma Attack

Yesterday morning I woke up to the sound of Emily not being able to breathe.  She has had issues with nighttime cough and reacts worse to viral illnesses than her brother so her pediatrician had given her a Ventolin puffer to use if she needs it.  She usually needs it about once a day when she has a cough or cold because of her coughing.

That was not the issue yesterday morning though.  Yesterday morning she couldn't breathe.  All she could do was wheeze and spit/gag froth up.  Despite her usual gravitation to her puffer she kept pushing the mask away from her face as I only suspect she felt like she was already suffocating.  Keith convinced her to get back in the shower where she could calm down enough to get 2 puffs into her and her wheeze became more manageable.  I was minutes away from calling an ambulance.

After 13 years of marriage Keith and I have an uncanny way of not freaking out at the same time.  There are only a handful of us that have ever seen Keith freak out, like an emotional Yeti, but it has happened and during those times I usually revert into my doctor ability to stay calm.  That did not happen yesterday morning.  I do not like people not being able to breathe.  It's probably why I didn't go into Respirology or Anesthesia but I find it much easier to handle shortness of breath at work where I have access to oxygen, face masks, medications and intubation if necessary.  I have all those skills still in my back pocket if I would ever need them at work but I don't have them in the bathroom at my house when my kid is wheezing in front of me.  Also doctors have seen the worst-case scenarios and often those cases come flooding back to your mind when you are afraid and it's your own kid.

I threw on some clothes and got Em out of the shower and put some clothes on her.  It was 630-645 am and she was much better than she was but was still wheezy and her voice was different than it usually was.  Keith went to pack her stuff in her backpack including a snack but I was having none of that.  What if they had to intubate her and she had eaten that snack and aspirated it into her lungs ?  Keith just indulged me and didn't persist.  Cian was the hero just before we left as he reminded us to pack Emily's puffer and aerochamber.

We got to the hospital and Emily was sweet as can be. Both of my kids tend to get even kinder when they are really sick.  We got to Children's ER and she seemed better and I thought maybe I had freaked out too much.  The only other times we have been to Children's ER have been for Cian and once was for croup and he had needed Dexamethasone (steroid) and Receimic epinephrine (adrenaline) and I had thought he was relatively fine and didn't want to make a mistake like that again so I had brought her but sitting in triage I felt like maybe it was overkill.  The nurse assured me I should have brought her and validated our experience that it would have been scary in the morning if this is how she was post-Ventolin.  We waited a bit in the waiting room and although I am not known for my patience I did often come back to the thought that I was thankful we hadn't had to be rushed straight to the back; that waiting in the waiting room meant that was was relatively well and how lucky we were for that.

After about 45 minutes we were taken into a room and the nurse and then doctor assessed Emily.  She was still pretty wheezy on exam and they felt her signs and symptoms were consistent with an asthma attack and that she should receive the medication regimen that they usually do for that.  It's known as an asthma care map or care plan.  Patients get 8 puffs of Ventolin (the blue inhaler) and then 3 puffs of Atrovent (the white inhaler) and then 2 more rounds of that 20 minutes apart for a total of 24 puffs of Ventolin and 9 of Atrovent.  She also got an oral dose of Dexamethasone (steroid) and will need another one in 2 days and went home with a Ventolin puffer and a steroid puffer to take for the next week or so.  They explained things thoroughly and easily as I'm sure it's routine for them, as routine as me explaining labour or painful periods, but we hung on every word like it was the first time we were ever hearing instructions.

Emily loved having a piece of paper with instructions and checkboxes.  She loved checking things off and telling me how many puffs were left.  By the second round of puffers she was more like her usual self and after the third round we were back to living in our regular scheduled life musical (she sings everything all the time).  The whole ordeal took about 4 hours.  I have never been more grateful for every component of medicine.  Thankful for medical research that figured out how puffers would help reactive airway disease and the discovery of steroids.  Thankful for universal health care and that I never once had to worry about the cost in addition to all my other worry.  Thankful for the expertise of the people I work with and their calm in my fear.  Thankful for their kindness despite the uncertainties of our provincial health care system and despite protests of our health care cuts happening at the exact same time.  Manitoba doctors and nurses provide amazing care in what appears to be one of the most confining provincial budgets, even before these proposed cuts.  After a quick trip back home to shower and get ready for my hectic clinical practice I brought coffee to the Children's ER staff.  I wanted them to be reminded that something so ordinary for them was so comforting for us and how much we appreciated it.  I read something recently that a physician wrote "Your life is my life's work" and that is so very true - it seems so routine for us at work but being a patient (or a patient's parent) is a good reminder of the weight and importance of being a front line health worker.  Thank you to the doctors and nurses that cared for Emily yesterday.

After my crazy clinic day I came home and did our regular evening routine.  To decompress I watched City Slickers which is one of my favourite movies.  I was reminded of it on my drive home as I thought of my day.  It was one of my worst/best days.  It felt like the worst in the morning when we felt so helpless and scared but it was also one of the best because Em got the care she needed and none of the bad things happened.  And that is truly something to be so grateful for.

 Emily with her asthma care plan and pencil.  This girl likes lists and counting and is getting back to her regular self. 

Day at the Beach

Em had a day off school and I desperately needed a day away from the hospital. It was supposed to be 33 degrees in Winnipeg on Friday so all conditions seemed to be perfect for a trip to the beach. 

I told Emily a few days before about my plans and she was super excited.  Something special just for you is awesome at any age but especially if you are 5.  I told her not to tell Cian because he had school on Friday and she was true to her word and said nothing to him.  This is a huge deal because Cian is her favourite person and she tells him everything.  Interestingly, when we came home and he realized we went to the beach without him he was totally fine but I still think it was the right decision not to tell him beforehand.

The night before Emily said "Mom, a day of just you and me at the beach is everything I ever dreamed about" and my heart totally melted.  I know putting the time in with them is very important even though they very rarely complain about the amount I work. 

In the morning we got packed up and Emily was invested in naming all things we packed and emphatically saying "CHECK" when we had it in the bag.  Then we drove over to Stella's and she hopped out of the car and exclaimed "Are you ready to brunch mom??" Man, I love this kid.

We had breakfast at Stella's and Emily was too excited to help me with the crossword to really dive into her cinnamon bun.  She ate it on the way to the beach instead.  I got a coffee from Them Baergan  and we were off.

It was a gorgeous prairie drive.  We got the West Gate of Grand Beach and brought out all of our stuff.  Emily carried all of the toys.  I instantly set up the new sun shelter I bought from Canadian Tire.  Basically I can't believe I've ever gone to the beach without one - it's awesome.  We ate snacks from our cooler and made a "super sand castle".  Everyone told me the water would be cold but it was refreshing and we spent a tonne of time in the water having water gun fights.  Emily wanted to stay forever but was good when we had to head home.  She was a total delight to spend the day with.  She is one of my favourite humans and I am so lucky to be her mom.

The Privilege of My Job

Yesterday I had a long and gruelling day.

The Friday before a long weekend is always chaotic as everyone tries to make sure that every patient is safeguarded through inherent lower resources over the next few days.  People want to cross every "t" before being away and the on call person for the hospital often gets extra calls/jobs because of this.  That is coupled with the fact that our residents have their academic half day on Friday afternoon putting more pressure on the remaining staff.  Usually that works fine and the attending doctors pick up their pace until the residents return but on a day where everything converges it means working at a superhuman level.

That was yesterday.

Despite the exhaustion of yesterday's call shift I find waking up post-call I have overwhelming feelings of gratitude.

I am grateful that despite all the demands on me for my job that I have the resources to help people.  Say what you will about our current health care system (and there is lots to say) but if someone needs an ultrasound I can get it. If they need to be admitted for pain control we can get that for them.  If they need life-saving surgery we have the resources at our disposal.  I think of how much harder a demanding day would be if I had to look at patients knowing what they need and not being able to provide it.  For people who work in remote communities and in the Third World that part of your job must be excruciating and takes a personal fortitude I admire.

I am so grateful for my colleagues. There were countless times yesterday where I was humbled by the sheer caring of the people I work with; for the patients, but also for me.  One of our senior obstetricians stayed all afternoon on the Friday before a long weekend because he knew I had a difficult delivery awaiting me and wanted to be around 'just in case'.  This same person comes to the labour floor every morning and is the exact person I want to recount my adventures and decisions to.  He patiently sits and offers reassurance and advice.  One of the patients last night innocently thought he was my dad and sometimes in my job he is certainly paternal in his support of me.  The other obstetrician on call came to help when I was getting so slammed and couldn't physically do everything at once.  She came without hesitation and helped me weather the relentless waves of responsibility.  She then went above and beyond and helped me with planning the mountain of inductions (a job for the on call obstetrician and arduous at the best of times) so that I didn't have to do it in the morning.  "Let's do this together" is one of the nicest things to say to someone.  The labour floor nurses met me with countless hugs and tried to shove some food into me on the fly like the mamas that they are. The antepartum nurses are amazing often having to hold down the fort when we can't leave the onslaught of the labour floor.  I cannot say enough to convey the unbelievable kindness of the nurses I work with.  They always remind me to change my pants when I have blood on them (which is almost always).  They wipe blood off my arms and face.  They constantly worry about bothering me when I know they are working just as hard with whatever task they are assigned.  The hugs they give me when I have to do or have done something incredibly hard sustain me and help me to keep going.  Their funny antics and laughter make coming to work a joy - even on the hard days.  The person coming on call this morning texted me 15 minutes before arriving "Do you want a latte?" Little thoughtful gestures are what make life wonderful.

In conclusion I am so grateful to the patients.  They knew we were busy and trying our best and they acknowledged that.  The thankfulness from women and families was so true and honest I felt myself trying to wiggle out from underneath it.  I wanted to give each patient more attention than I could but I am going to try to practice good self-care and remind myself that everyone did well and that is all that matters.  I was constantly reminded yesterday of the strength of the women I serve.  My voice half-broke acknowledging the unbelievable power of a woman that did everything I asked of her and used everything within her to deliver her baby.   My favourite phrase of the book "The Red Tent" rang true "She was mighty to behold".  There were many mighty women last night.

I woke up this afternoon with rested fatigue in my body and thankfulness in my heart.  I don't think that more could be asked of a job - to work your body, mind and heart all at once.  What a tremendous privilege.

Mother's Day

Mother's Day is often a reflective time for me. Usually that is because I think of all the people who find Mother's Day difficult.  Today I find myself reflecting on a different aspect of this unusual day.

I had the wonderful 0700 am wake-up with a showering of hugs and kisses and presents dropped on my sleeping face.  I had excited kids wanting to show me the crafts they made at school.  This year's selections were especially wonderful and heartwarming.

I struggle to be honoured on Mother's Day as I find the rhetoric around motherhood and womanhood in today's political climate very limiting.  In a world that has such an incredible diversity of amazing women I feel that the ideas around motherhood more confining than celebrating.

Mothers are a diverse group of people with a variety of circumstances and interests most of which cannot be held within the confines of a Hallmark greeting card. My children are small and their love is pure and innocent.  My hope is as they grow that they will see Mother's Day as a call to examine how they view mothers in the world and how they can ultimately support them whether they choose to be parents or not.

Speaking from my own experience of being a doctor mom I am often confronted by people's misguided ideas that my children and I are always mourning the fact that I work.  That could not be further from the truth.  My children have no other frame of reference for their experience and are therefore happy they have a mother that loves them and has a cool job full of "operations and delivering babies".  I know from my friends who are stay-at-home moms that they also have people say insensitive things about the choices they have made that works for their families.

Truly supporting mothers is what I would like to see Mother's Day be about.  I think it's completely reasonable to shower mothers with hugs, kisses, cards and flowers.  But is there also the possibility of widening that love of mothers to include a stronger network of support? My mother and her mother before her and the community of mothers that raised me (my aunts, my mother's friends, my teachers, my community mothers) had similar hopes and fears to what I think a lot of us feel now. They wanted us as their children to have safety and security, health, autonomy, access to education and to grow and flourish as people.

In the current global political landscape I think we have lost sight of some of the above values that mothers often think about as they watch their children grow.

We want our children to be safe and secure and yet there are still people and more importantly public policies that don't support the FACTS of climate change and the small changes that we could make to vastly decrease our effects on the earth that sustains us.

There are thousands of missing and murdered indigenous women in this country and as I sit here with my coffee, homemade crafts and cuddles I am keenly aware that there are children that long to hug their moms and moms that long to hug their daughters.

To our fellow mothers in the United States I read about what is happening to your country and I ache for you as a woman and as a mother.  How policies can be made (by groups of overwhelmingly white men) that consider rape a pre-existing condition, that constantly battle easy access to contraception and the work of Planned Parenthood.  That an overwhelmingly more qualified candidate who won the popular vote lost the election because she is a woman and how that secretly sits in the dark places of every woman.  I think of the mothers watching the president make thoughtless choices that may culminate in war.  War that will be decided by affluent white men.  War, which disproportionately will take the lives of poor people of colour and permanently separate mothers from their children.

If you love a mother perhaps instead of (or in addition to) platitudes and cards you can examine your own inherent entrenched ideas of motherhood.  Learn what the mothers in your life worry about or hope for and learn how you can rise up and help them.  Perhaps you call out a colleague for a misogynistic statement about a working mom.  Or you listen to someone's experience of sexual harassment or assault before brushing them off as "too sensitive".  Could you take a minute to open your mind and heart when you look at a mother in a hijab before you support stereotypical thoughts on what she is teaching her children?  Or a mother who is poor who feeds her children something that you wouldn't.  Rally for easy access to contraception so that girls don't have to be mothers before they are ready. Rally for equal and universal access to education so that our future generations can make better decisions for the world.  Rally for everyone's right to health care and for the rights of the poor because it's right and because there is no one who wants a mother to be taken from her children too soon or for children to be lost because of preventable diseases.  Take the love you have for your own mother, the mother of your children, another mother you love or perhaps the love you wished you had for your mother if your relationship is strained, and work to make the world a better place for mothers, for women, for all of us.  Let us mother the world this Mother's Day.