Welcome to the drip 💧

My kids get to hear so much more about doula life than I’m sure they’d like to hear. I’m not sure how many 8-14 year old boys know about inductions, cervical dilation, that their mom talks about semen with their friends, and that it helps ripen the cervix… but mine hear about all of the non-personal details of pregnancy in general.  Some day, it should help to make them great fathers and husbands, but for now, I mostly get a lot of eye rolls.  So, it was not at all surprising when I was prattling on about how us doulas were going to start a newsletter that the conversation was mostly met with the blank stare of a teenager staring at his Tiktok feed until I dropped the name of the newsletter that the 6 of us are quite proud of… The Drip.  The child actually looked up from his phone, looked right at me and said, “Really?  The Drip??? Ugh.”  Rolled his eyes and shook his head.  Annoyed.  Clearly – we have hit a nerve. 

Oh COME ON!! Bruh.  Really? I can’t believe you’re going to name your newsletter “The Drip”. 

Like the generations who have gone before him, his believes they invented language and own the meanings.  I am a child of the 80’s and 90’s.  We did things that were rad, totally tubular… called our friends dude and dawg, and sprayed our bangs as high as gravity and aquanet would allow.  My parents mostly let these things go – until I called them “dawg” in conversation, and they promptly shut me down.


Junior High me.  Bless it, because I know I was trying to get those bangs even higher.


As my parents taught me, I let most generational things slide, and I also do my best to use the new slang to annoy and embarrass my kids.  Naming this newsletter The Drip was unintentionally the best thing to do to annoy my baseball player, long obsessed with having the perfect drip, aka fashion, on the field.  The right cleats, the right pants, socks, stirrups, sunglasses, batting gloves in his back pocket… the list goes on, and I absolutely do not understand.  I just know how it affects my bottom line when he wants to line the pockets on his bottom with another pair of gloves.



My oldest.  So drippy out there.

But, I look at this child of mine, now taller than me, quickly catching up to his dad in height, and I remember how drippy new motherhood was.  Lord knows, not in the sense that he uses the word now as a teenager – fashion has never been my forte.  It’s just that impending parenthood oozes with so much.  Before you even get started, it’s dripping with anticipation of if it will even happen.  For some it happens without us ever even knowing parenthood is something we even wanted.  For some of us, it drips with heartbreak as month after month Aunt Flo shows her face again and again.

And then it happens!  A missed period!  A positive pregnancy test!  Once again dripping with anticipation – is this one going to stick?  Then the first ultrasound, dripping with more fear as we hold each other’s hand wondering if there will be a heartbeat?  The weeks go on, for some of us dripping in vomit and sweat, almost all of us dripping in the fatigue of the progesterone soaked first trimester.  All the while, the dripping emotions of pregnancy, and this burgeoning love for this new life growing inside of us.  Who will this baby be?  Who will I become?  Who will my partner become?  How will this change us?

Pregnancy moves along, and we start to drip in anticipation of labor and birth.  What will happen?  What’s it going to feel like?  How will I manage this?  How will my partner manage this?  How will we know when it’s time?  And oh my god, why am I literally dripping fluid?

And then the baby is here!  New emotions, just flowing out of me!  I have never loved like this before!  Why do I not love the way I thought I would? I have never been this tired before in my life, and oh my god, I am literally dripping fluid from every orifice in my body.  And OH MY GOD!!! The baby just exploded an entire diaper!  Drip doesn’t even BEGIN to explain this situation!!!!

Metaphorically and literally dripping with nervous energy, love, and milk the day we brought Baby #2 home

So, this newsletter is all about the drip.  Not the fashion drip, but the parenthood drip.  The emotional drip, the steep learning curve drip, and the literal drip.  We are here to walk you through all of it.  Because we’ve been there with so many parents before, and we have the knowledge, the skills, and the compassion to help you through it.

Think of us like the shortstop backing up the pitcher – with just the right glasses, back pocket evo shields, and stirrups, ready to scoop up a grounder and throw out the runner and get you out of the inning to win the game.

Or, if you prefer, just the right hair, outfit, shoes and bag to help you walk in and nail the interview with the drip you needed for the confidence boost.