birth, Body, doula, Honesty, Practice
In 2016, while meditating on my personal and professional development, and contemplating my desire to be of greater service, the word just kind of popped into my head… “doula.” My heart jumped a bit when I said the word aloud to myself, and I felt a spark jump in my belly. Why it came to me in that moment, I can’t explain, but it stayed with me. I sat with it silently for a week before I even started researching. A month later, I ordered Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth, and registered for my first birth doula training. On January 14th, 2017, I attended my first birth as a doula. It was a beautiful and transformative experience, from which I learned an incredible amount. Most importantly, I learned that birthwork just feels… right for me. Each birth that has followed has been beautiful in new and truly amazing ways, and I am in awe of just how much I can find myself inspired, and also flooded with new information and new questions each time. Every birth reignites the same spark I that felt the first moment the word “doula,” came to me. For the past year I have been relatively quiet about these experiences, but not due to lack of passion. The work and study I have found myself a part of in this past year are just, simply put, sacred. While it is important to me to keep much of what I experience with my clients confidential, I see the value in sharing stories in order to remove the stigma surrounding birth. Many of the people I interact with who are family-building feel isolated from their friends, colleagues, and communities. So much of fertility, pregnancy, birth, and the postpartum period is seen as taboo in our society – a truly ridiculous view to have on processes that very literally give meaning to life; our individual origin stories. For me, it has been impossible to separate birthwork from social justice. In my mind and heart, this is radical and subversive work. Since I began my studies, I have found myself regularly infuriated by everything from the exclusive and assumptive language that is used in perinatal care, to the unbelievably racially disproportionate statistics on maternal mortality in the US. Considering all of the above, I am mindful before I speak, post, or publish anything about my birthwork practice, because – as always – I hope to capture the love in birth, not to perpetuate the culture of fear that too often surrounds it. As with anything sacred, I believe that birth should be revered, and not discussed in vain. So in a humble attempt to avoid exploitation… here is my brief public reflection on my past year as a full-spectrum doula: Every Birth is the Right Birth There is no wrong way to build a healthy, happy family. I do believe it is important to educate yourself, and to prepare for labor to the best of your ability. Arm yourself with information. Build a toolbox. And then breathe through the ride. I don’t believe in strict birth plans; I believe in labor preferences. Ask questions. Be flexible. It doesn’t matter whether you choose to labor standing, crouching, or laying down; at home, a birth center, or in a hospital; with or without medication – as long as you’ve prepared yourself, stood up for your preferences, and have your baby in your arms at the end of labor. We can give power back That being said, we can give power back to those in labor. We can stop treating pregnancy like an illness, and labor like a medical emergency. As a doula, my job is to empower; to educate my clients so that they can form their preferences, and then to give them the tools to express their preferences to their partner/family/primary caregiver. We, as a collective can give power back by not imposing our beliefs, experiences, or opinions on others who are building their own families. It is always right to just hold space As the doulas, friends, partners, siblings, parents, colleagues, community members… of those who are having children, the most powerful thing we can do is hold space. Be dependable. Answer the phone, invite them to tea, or show up with dinner prepared. Ask them to share their experiences, whether they’re pregnant now, or had children over a decade ago – and then actually listen. What are they feeling in their pregnant body? Or, what was the birth of their first child like? How long was the adoption process for them? Or, how many rounds of IVF did they go through? These are the conversations that will slowly, but surely, shift the cultural narrative of what it means to be pregnant/labor/give birth/breastfeed or bottlefeed/raise a child/build a family. Listening to another person describe their most human experiences will make us each more human in our own right. Holding space in the labor room heals birth stories. Holding space for new parents will heal humanity.That’s all for now & thank you for reading. Look for more from me in 2018, including a pieces on “Why hire a doula?” “What does it mean to be a full-spectrum doula?” and also specific birth stories and reflections (always with permission, often in collaboration).
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