Why I am a doula

I have loved being a doula since I first took the course at Seattle Midwifery School. I can talk about birth for hours on end. I find incredible excitement and joy in being with women during this special time.

I have had a run of births, however, that has really made me question my "love". 4 births in a row. Each one, the mother was strong, prepared and incredibly knowledgable of exactly how to go about working with her body to birth her baby safely, smoothly and unmedicated. In each case, however, despite all of their preparation and hope, their births did not follow the path they had envisioned. All 4 women had OP babies (sunny side up, and the opposite of how baby SHOULD come out). 3 of the 4 women had their water break before labor started, and without labor starting within a day or so of their water breaking, which is a statistical anomaly. 3 of those 4 women labored for days and days, rocking and moaning and walking the halls before deciding for themselves that a Cesarean birth was the birth that was meant for their baby. The other woman was able to have her baby vaginally, but not until after a lot of work (literally 4 1/2 hours of pushing), vacuum and an episiotomy.

I was there for these women. I massaged their aching muscles, I mopped their brow with a cool cloth, I whispered encouraging words to them non-stop. I supported them, both physically and emotionally and gave them my all. When you serve someone, it's impossible to not grow close to them. Their dreams become my dreams. So when their dream must change, I mourn with them as they cry and weep over their change of plans. It's emotionally exhuasting to do that, time and time again.

By the fourth birth, I was at my limit. I literally wanted to run from the room screaming when it became apparent that this birth was following the trend of the last 3 births. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to be strong anymore. I wanted to run, and cry and scream and rip my hair out. I ached for the sweet and strong woman who had spent the last 8 hours at 9cm. I ached because I knew that I would have to be there to support her when she gave up her dream of a natural childbirth and tried to embrace her new birth path. I ached because I could only imagine the emotions that she was feeling.

But I didn't run. I smiled at her and cried with her and her husband. I reminded them of how strong she was and how this journey had proven what an amazing mother she would be. Afterwards, as I tried to process all of my raw emotions, a wonderful sister doula said to me, " Being a doula often asks us to dig down past the point when we have no more to give, and give some more. That is what we do. We hold out hope, we believe and we support and encourage, when others have "checked out" long ago! We are strong and enduring. Our clients deserve no less, and that is what we do. At every birth, despite how we feel inside, despite our past experiences, despite what might be happening in our personal life, despite circumstances that seem impossible. Despite other births we have recently attended. We are a constant! We look at every birth as a blank slate, with a story to be written. And sometimes it feels like we have read that story before! Yet, we show up to do it again, and watch another story unfold!"
Her words say everything that is in my heart when I doula a woman. I stayed with my client because I am a doula, and that's what doulas do.