Have you ever had a time where it seemed life was out of control?
Where a new crisis popped up just as the last one was finished?
And you needed someone to stand with you through it?
It all started when we got our house painted. We don’t live in a big place, so I assumed the job wouldn’t take that long…. note to self: Never assume!
It ended up taking months… months of living with our belongings piled on top of one another… of climbing over furniture and up the walls.
A doula could have helped us find coping mechanisms, instead of getting on each other’s nerves.
A week after everything was back in place, I woke up one morning to find water pouring through a light fixture in the dining room… into my lap top.
And right in the middle of the living room ceiling? A big soggy wet patch …. note to neighbors: No DIY plumbing if you aren’t sure what you are doing.
A doula could have helped me sort through all my emotions and would have been unbiased and unemotional when I was angry and overwhelmed.
I spent the next weeks calling contractors to patch and paint, taking my computer in for repair, figuring out insurance claims, and cleaning up drywall and paint dust.
My husband was a great listener and helped as much as he could when he wasn’t working, but most of the tasks had to be done during the day, which left me wishing I had someone by my side.
Having a doula to tell me it would all be ok and that I was doing the right stuff would have recharged me and given me confidence that I COULD keep going.
Two weeks later I was in a car accident, and while I escaped unharmed, our car did not. My time was then consumed with several trips to the insurance facility to confirm the car was totaled, filling out more of those lovely insurance claims, and finally purchasing a new-to-me car.
A doula also could have told me there isn’t one right way through the situation, there’s just the way that works best for me right then.
Whew! Things were finally settling down.
Or so we thought…
The next 3 months were filled with several long-distance trips to see my terminally ill father-in-law, and one of those was for his memorial service. Six weeks later we repeated the process for my mother.
I kept telling my husband “Stop the world! I just want to get off!”
I wanted to push the pause button and take a few deep breaths before jumping back in.
I wanted someone to tell me to breathe, take a break, to take care of myself.
To say something… anything… or nothing at all.
Because sometimes the presence of someone is enough, enough to keep the world from spinning out of control.