About me
Hi, I’m Julie. I’m a wife, mother, educator, life-long learner, Catholic, bereavement doula, and biology nerd. Picking favorites is hard, but if I had to choose, I’d choose A Tale of Two Cities for books and Psych for TV shows. I enjoy making my own kombucha and kefir and cooking without a recipe.
My family and I live in Michigan. We have one cat, Franklin, who is named after Rosalind Franklin, a scientist whose work was key to the discovery of the structure of DNA. My husband and I share a love of teaching and tackling big ideas. You’ll often find us off on big or small adventures, enjoying nature walks, small towns, or the best allergen-free chocolate (Oh Mi Organics in St. Johns, MI).
I enjoy research deep dives into topics I’m passionate about. While I’m learning, I’m already planning in my mind how I can share my knowledge with others and connect them with resources. For me, teaching is so much more than one-way transfer of knowledge. It’s a collaborative process of mutual growth in understanding and knowledge. I always learn with the individuals that I teach.
What I do
Most of my days are spent as a mom and a wife. I am also a Creighton Model FertilityCare Practitioner. I teach women to chart their cycles to avoid pregnancy, achieve pregnancy, or monitor fertility. In addition, I run our local babywearing group with my husband, so parents can learn how to safely wear their babies and toddlers. I also am a Catholic Nursing Mothers League mentor mom.
Finally, I’m a Haven-trained bereavement doula. My interest in grief work started with my own experience of perinatal loss. I seek new ways to make my work as a FertilityCare Practitioner grief-informed to better support all my clients. I am also a facilitator for the Bereaved Parents Community Group. I want all parents to be able to access support in the immediate aftermath of a loss as well as years later. I want them to know that they are not alone, and I want to connect them to the resources that they need. Grief is messy, confusing, and not linear. I want to hold space for that grief