"How did you know?"
The question stared me in the face.
I had brought bread to a neighbor earlier that afternoon and her text made me pause.
The truth is, I didn't know. I actually had been meaning to bring the loaf to somebody else. But when they didn't answer, I hated to waste the chance of giving it away when it was still warm.
So I brought it next door, to the one who actually needed it.
When I knocked and gave her the bread, she had looked puzzled. We had a normal short and friendly exchange and then I was off again.
I looked at her text again. "I was having such a rough day today. How did you know?"
I felt awkward at the credit. I felt awkward because when I had made and brought it, I wasn't thinking of her at all.
But it didn't really matter. It wasn't about me.
It was about GOD caring about her.
And her getting a tangible reminder of His love, that day.
When I struggled with breastfeeding pain, leaking, scary thoughts, and postpartum depression after my first baby, I was NOT thinking about any other moms in my present or future.
I wasn't even remembering they all existed.
I was only thinking about me, poor me, who was certainly alone with no one else who could possibly understand.
I didn't reach out for help.
I thought this was all my cross to bear. My chance to show all those other moms that I was competent. That I was worthy of joining their club.
But that harrowing time changed me. Put me on a trajectory.
I never forgot how much I suffered. I never wanted others to have to feel that way.
A postpartum doula was born, not just a baby, not just a mom.
And now, when I bring my clients the warm bread, once in a while I say the "right" thing and they look at me as if to say, "How did you know?"
How did you know that I was loathing myself for wanting to give up on breastfeeding?
How did you know that I needed to hear "thank you" right now?
How did you know that I just want to run away but feel so much guilt for allowing myself to even go there?
How did you know?
Well, mama, I've been there. But I didn't know.
God knew. And He gave me my challenges so that I could grow, trust Him, and know what to say to you.
Because empathy is one of the very most meaningful gifts ever bestowed.
And He wants you to feel known. To feel loved. To understand how incredible you are.
And maybe you won't be a doula someday...
But I guarantee you will be able to give another mom the knowing look.
Say -- or not say, do -- or not do just the right thing.
You'll understand her frustration when she's healing from her C-section.
You'll know the agony of her intrusive thoughts.
You'll sit with her and share your story. Maybe you'll cry together.
And she'll wonder, as she holds your offering
like warm, unexpected bread,
"How
did
she
know?"
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