I've been a birth doula for the past 6 years, and a senior midwifery student now. Last year I attended 77 births. This work is the hardest, most rewarding, most messy, most draining, most challenging, and most fullfilling work I have EVER done outside of being a mother of 6.

I have been blessed with a family who is SOMEHOW flexible and understanding. I've missed a lot of important events, the volunteering at school, reading books in bed at night, regular days just sleeping as i'm trying to recoup. My children... oh my children and my husband give just as much (if not more) than me into our relationship. They rarely point out the events I miss (other adults are much better at doing that for them, thanks), and often respond well when I return after a long day(s) worth of work.

My 2nd youngest who is now 6 has had my work been in her life since the beginning. I would say she is the one who is the most understanding in regards to my work, as its what is normal for her. We have a system: when I leave she says "make sure to tell me what the baby's name is, and show me a picture!" We had this conversation this past November on her birthday as I was leaving saying "I don't know if I will be able to be here today." She smiled and said what she always does: "make sure to tell me what the baby's name is, and show me a picture!" While I was at the birth I got update pictures throughout the day of her birthday breakfast she chose ( a whole bowl full of whip cream all smeared over her face). She had the biggest smile from ear to ear. My heart sank a bit, but I let it pass so I could give my client my 100%. I arrived home that evening around 7pm. My husband kept the baby up past her bedtime as everyone waited for me to arrive to do cake and presents. I walked in the door blurry eyed (it was a really tough birth), with a headache, and low blood sugar. My sweet little 6 year old ran up to me, hugged me, told me about her breakfast (which was the best breakfast she had ever had), and then said "what was the baby's name, do you have a picture." 
"Emmie, this is Nova, she was born on your very special birthday."
"Oh Mommy, she is so cute. Can I see more pictures."

BLESS HER SOUL. This could have gone a totally different way, for anyone. But my kids, my husband, THEY GET IT. They forgive me, which is probably one of the biggest reasons I continue to do this work.

Four months later I came home after being gone for a few days to see this same child drawing a picture as 4 of my kids were playing house together. 
"Emmie, what are you drawing?" (I was pretty sure I knew what it was)
"We are playing house. I'm the mom and I'm a midwife. I just got of the phone. A lady called me to put her placenta in pills." (She was drawing a huge placenta on a 8x11 page which looked very similar to the prints that I make) "Just wait Mom, I'll show you all of it in a minute."

I went about my evening getting settled in to being home. Emmie came up to me with a little book she made. She opened it, and walked me through it:
"This is a Mommy and Daddy thinking about a baby. This is me, I'm a midwife, and I'm thinking about placentas, medicine, taking care of babies and moms. This is me and you, and we love eachother."

Do I think I'm special? Yes. I think my situation IS special. This kind of work can ruin relationships, marriages, health ect. I have to constantly try to find a balance, try to say no, yet I always strive to do more. My heart is driven by passion... not only for birthing families, but for my children to see their mother achieve her dreams, to see her mother put other's needs and experiences above her own. I hope that my children chase whatever dreams they may have NO MATTER the obstacles, no matter how hard it is, no matter how much it sucks sometimes.
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My husband (Brendon Wilson) who stays home full time with our kids, my children with their forgiving hearts, and my passion, drive my heart. I will be forever grateful for this life.