You'll Never Get a Medal

Just put on your best saucy voice, dripping in sarcasm.
Or will I? A Girl Scout patch, maybe?

Rural Doctoring gets it. (Wouldn't it be a hoot if she was one of those who would ask why a woman would forego all the obstetrical accoutrements)

Athletes and adventurers talk about "peak experiences." I understand some people scale mountains, others jump out of airplanes, and still others get beaten to a pulp in extreme wrestling competitions--all in a pursuit of peak experiences: that sense of being more than yourself, better than your best.

Well, you're never going to catch me doing those things. As a well brought-up Asian woman, I will not jump out of an airplane, even if it is on the ground. I'm just a cautious person, so I thought I'd have to sacrifice peak experiences for a sense of safety. (emphasis mine)

Then--I delivered my first baby. I was a fourth-year medical student and I'd been waiting in the wings for weeks to catch a baby, and after it happened--after that new person slipped into my hands--I felt high for hours. Being at a birth is still a peak experience for me. Sometimes, I'll find myself watching a baby crowning and realize I've got a giant grin on my face.

And that is the birth assistant talking. Imagine the peak for the mother. Think about it... a blogger who spent 8 years of her academic life, and at least 5 years of her early career preparing for... and receiving a reward for being a participant in a mothers' experience. Wow. (For the record, none of my midwives "delivered" my babies: I did. I love them deeply and they are more a part of my life than any of the other beloved people I call "doctor.")

While natural childbirth may or may not be yours, I'll tell you what isn't my cup of tea. Taxman gets up in the freezing cold at 5 in the morning, dons compression underwear and spends a small mint on shoes that don't even look good, and runs 10 miles. On a slow day. HE has a medal, for coming in 5,924th place in the Mercedes Marathon, that he defies you to touch. (You are, however, highly encouraged to share your undying admiration.)

A Peak Experience.

Maybe the Taxman gets it. I know it makes no logical sense to pay my midwife thousands of dollars over and above what my insurance won't pay (and I teach logic, remember?); endure lasting, searing ridicule from the in-laws; questioning glances from the pediatrician... not to mention three days of labor and three hours of pushing one's fifth child into the world. The reward is a wet, eager-to-suckle, wide-eyed new human being whose needs only I can fill, and who provided a wormhole to infinity, however brief. That sweet newborn smell (not Johnson's Baby Lotion) is imprinted into my psyche.

For years, I got my birth high fix from doula-ing. Some of the children whose mothers I helped are my Facebook or MySpace friends. Like Taxman and his medal ("not made of anything special," per himself) only a few people really get it.

But hey, we have our medals.