I'm going to shout above the voice on repeat in my head saying "why would anyone read any of this self indulgent crap?!" and keep writing. 

I want to use this blog to lay out my thoughts on my way to this point, why I think I want this, what I think it is I want. I'm hoping it might clear some of the fog, and help my journey to feel more concrete. I can imagine looking back at these words and feeling proud of how far I've come, and that is enough to get me started. 

There is always the worry that you will be looking to hire me and, on reading about my fears, worry that I am not qualified or experienced enough. But, I don't want to proffer any falsehoods about my experience, and I don't believe that is the only thing that will make me the right person for some people. I also don't want my thoughts or life to be in the forefront of your mind; this is your birth.

😊 📚📓📑👂📝🎓🤰👶+🌱🌻🍁❄️ (no you got carried away with emoji's...).

When I was little, say 6 or 7, I wanted to become a midwife. Not sure why or how I got the idea - I think I mainly just wanted to cuddle babies...but, I got put off it by people thinking of the difficulties (shift work, long training, reliance on the ups and downs of the NHS) and I was (and sometimes still am...) easily led. 

It has always been a thread running in the background behind my plans to be generally employable and survive that I want to help. I've had this chip on my shoulder about not doing something worthwhile with the majority of my time. Not for any altruistic reason, I'm just a smarmy people pleaser. 

I've always struggled with picking something I want and going for it - I have plenty of excuses for why it isn't a good idea, ultimately to avoid failure. That's not to say I don't have a nice life, there are lots of beautiful things that have happened to me, but that's just it - I don't know how much I really created my good fortune. 

I now worry so much about each and every thing that I don't always know what a suitable, self-preservation amount of worry is. For example, is it only the very few and far between that are happy and afloat, self employed in the field they thought they would like? I have no definitive answers and it scares me. 

It feels eminently sensible to make sure that I have a profitable company before breaking away from a regular pay check. I have two reservations about that. Scrap that, three reservations; 

- how do you work 3 days a week (let's face it, they will be 12-14 hour days, like we all do), look after a baby the other 5 and run a company to point of profit in your lunchtimes and evenings? 

I know people do it, but I can't imagine that I would do everything well in that situation. 

- can you give a new business everything you need to, everything I want to, if your head is doing something else for a good chunk of your week? 

- and then, that fat dread that seeps from my bones every time I think about going back to work. 

Am I being selfish, childish, naive? 

Above all these thoughts is the unrelenting feeling that I want this. I want to spend my time supporting mothers and their families to feel the best they can, to have the most beautiful births (whatever that looks like for them) and to protect space and care for them during the soft time afterwards. I feel almost churlish about it at the moment, like a stubborn toddler that wants to eat an olive. 

I think I'm going to have to do it and learn the hard way, or...maybe...it will be a dream come true? (Cue the strings and fade to black...)