It was what it was. If everything went as planned, at some point, I could move out of my current situation and intoQuentin’s spare bedroom. He lived in the country off the lake. That was something for me to be excited about. The therapist I’d seen in the city told me that it was good for me to have things I looked forward to. Right now, I was looking forward to moving in with Quentin and starting my new job.
There was only one birthing center in the area that focused on the maternal care of black women. It was located about thirty minutes away from Sweet Jackson in the city of Londynville. When I reached out to them, they welcomed me aboard, glad to have another certified doula. I had to meet with my first patient in a few hours. I had butterflies, the happy kind. Good excitement and nervousness, not the soul-numbing, joy-stealing kind that I usually had.
While still in bed, I began my meditations. My former therapist had suggested that I begin each morning with strategies that were supposed to ground my nervous system. I went through them one at a time.
First was deep breaths from my belly.
Then I did my body scan, slowly tensing and then releasing each muscle group in my body.
Next up were my gratitude statements, where I mentally listed everything I was grateful for.
From there, it was on to my loving-kindness affirmations, where I repeated a few key phrases to myself. “God is my protector today and always. God loves me and wants me safe. God will cancel every assignment of harm or danger that is set up against me today and always. I will have joy today.”
After completing my morning hygiene routine, I dressed in a pair of formfitting baby-pink scrubs that looked more like athletic gear than hospital attire. And I really liked them. Inner City Hospital had made it mandatory that all nurses wear the standard light blue, shapeless scrubs. At the time, I hated having to look like everybody else. Now, I was glad that every negativeconnotation I had toward scrubs was geared toward those ugly blue numbers. I could wear colorful, playful, formfitting, and cute scrubs with no adverse effects.
I walked out of my bedroom and into the kitchen. The house was a wreck. But to be fair, it was always a wreck after a night of Braveheart Brotherhood hanging out together. Asia was probably still asleep. When she and my brother awoke, they would clean the house from top to bottom. By the time I made it back home after work, it would look like no get-together ever happened.
I went into the morning routine my former therapist suggested. She thought having a specific morning routine would help to keep me calm. She didn’t want me to get flustered or cause myself unnecessary stress by doing things on the fly or putting myself into situations where I would get triggered. So, I did the same things every morning.
In the kitchen, I filled the tea kettle with water and set it on the flame. Then I grabbed a mug from one cabinet and the box of tea bags from another. I wasn’t picky or snooty about my tea. I knew some people enjoyed the ritual of preparing the leaves and steeping and all of that. That wasn’t me. I wasn’t even the biggest fan of tea. The process of making it just gave me something to focus on before I left the house.
While I waited for the water to heat, I did a few stretches—the same stretches at the same time in my routine every morning. I rolled each shoulder back ten times, then slowly rolled my neck ten times. I touched my toes ten times, did ten lunges, and ten arm circles. By the time I finished, the water was ready.
As I sipped my tea, I reviewed the information from Katrine. She was the director of midwifery. It included the patient’s name, age, and the number of previous pregnancies/births.
Then I checked my bag to make sure I had everything I needed: the intake form for new clients, all the printed material my patient would refer back to and use as a guide, my sample comfort items, my notebook, and writing utensils. Once I was sure I had everything, I headed out toSacred Warmth Birthing Center.
I came home smiling. “Hey, girl. Hey,” I joked when I found Asia in the kitchen alone.
She spotted my smile. “Oh, okay. I like that smile. I take it the first day on the job went well. Was your patient nice?”
“She’s the sweetest. Let me use the bathroom and put my stuff down.”
Once I’d taken care of my personal business, I walked back into the kitchen. “What are you making that smells so good?” My stomach rumbled, and we both giggled.
“Curry chicken and yellow rice. Now, tell me. Tell me. I wanna hear all about your first day,” she said, stirring the chicken in the curry sauce.
My smile returned. “Sacred Warmthis such a beautiful place.”
“Is that the name of the clinic?”
I chuckled. “It’s a birthing center, not a clinic. But yeah, that’s the name of it. And the name is perfect. When I stepped inside for the first time, I definitely felt like I was walking into somewhere that sacred things take place. You know how society likes to portray black women as always being loud and lively?”
She nodded.
“It’s geared toward black women, and it is the exact opposite of the stereotype. Everything is hushed and peaceful. Aromatherapy and soft lo-fi instrumental music are pumped throughout the space. The lighting is soft ambient lighting. Nothing about the facility reminds me of a hospital setting or puts me on edge. It actually puts me at ease. I really like it there.”
“I love to hear that, sissy. I’m thankful that you found your way back into the medical field in a way that makes sense for you.”
“Me too,” I agreed, as the two of us fixed plates for ourselves then sat down to eat. “Asia,” I said as I forked a bite of curry sauce coated chicken and rice, “I wanna say that I’m so appreciative of the fact that you and Kobey opened up your home to me.”
She eyed me. “Girl, please. You’re our little sister. We love you. Plus, KD worries about you. He’s been shitting bricks since the incident at the hospital. He still wakes up in a cold sweat sometimes, wondering what he would’ve done if he lost you that day. You being here, and him being able to put his eyes on you anytime he wants to . . . That means so much to him. His number one priority”—she grinned conspiratorially—“outside of me, of course, is keeping you safe.”
Of course, her saying that made me feel a measure of guilt about what I had to tell her, but I needed to get it off my chest. “I love being here with y’all. I felt so alone in the city. The isolation . . . along with the fear and the anxiety. It was a lot. But I have to be honest?—”
She cut me off. “You be hearing us hunchin’?”
My mouth fell. “What? No! Oh, hell no! Thank goodness. I definitely don’t want to hear that.” We both laughed. “No. What I’m trying to say is that you and my brother are social people.Verysocial people. Y’all entertain the brotherseverysingle weekend.”
