There’s no one way to describe what it’s like to be present when a baby is born. For me, it’s electric. It’s the most bold, most primal work of human existence, happening both all at once and in slow motion: shivery, sweaty, bloody, beautiful. It’s the biggest joy and the greatest privilege I’ve experienced in my life so far, the fact that women choose me to be their witness and support on the day they give birth. When I watch a mother see her baby for the first time, the edges all around me blur and spin, then sharpen, each and every time.
I’m a birth doula, so I get to experience this overwhelming honor and privilege fairly frequently. A doula is a non-medical childbirth support person. A labor coach, of sorts, a person (usually female) who provides continuous emotional and physical support to the laboring woman and her family. That support might include massage, suggestions of position changes, distraction, knowledge of hospital or care provider policies, or simply a helpful presence. Doulas have been in existence since the beginning of time, basically (Imagine a woman giving birth before modern obstetrics and the various women who might have helped her—sisters, neighbors, friends) but as a profession, doula-ism (that’s what I call it, at least) has existed for roughly 25 years. The movement was largely spurred by the work of Penny Simkin and DONA International, which is the largest certifying organizations for doulas in the world, founded in 1992.
I became a doula because I wanted to support women on one on the most monumental days of their lives. Having a baby is, after all, a really fucking big deal, whether you’ve done it several times before or whether it’s your first birth, whether it’s an accidental pregnancy or a baby you’ve tried for years to conceive. Giving birth is emotionally, mentally, and physically taxing, both before and after you set eyes on the little person who’s been dwelling in your uterus for months. It’s surreal while also being profoundly real, and it’s incredibly crazy and it’s just plain incredible.
I wanted to be a part of it, not just for myself, but because, as a pro-choice woman, I feel passionately that women should be supported in all of their health care decisions. Women are entitled to bodily autonomy, to bodily integrity, from birth control to giving birth and beyond. My doula work is informed by, is imbued with this; my fierce belief that women must have choice in all aspects of the reproductive process. I was a pro-choice feminist before I was ever a doula and I will be a pro-choice feminist if I ever stop my work as a doula.
Outside of the birth world, that there’s an idea that doulas are for wealthy hippies. (I had one! She rocked! She said I was a beautiful Xena: Warrior Princess-type person and dug elbows into my back! – Ed. [I kind of think they are for hippies! – Other Ed.]) There’s an idea that you can only have a doula if you want an unmedicated birth. There’s an idea that you can only have a doula if you’re planning to give birth at home or in a birthing center. I think there’s also an idea that doulas are crunchy, anti-science, earth mother-types who pretty much exclusively serve rich white women, women who think that doctors are the devil. I once had a man say to me, “You’re a doula? Isn’t that a really bougie thing to be?”
Some of these stereotypes are rooted in truth, I suppose. I’m crunchy…ish. I own a copy of Wise Woman Herbal For The Childbearing Year, I use a DivaCup, I drive a Prius. But the reality is that doulas are as diverse in personality, values, and ideals as the people in any profession, although I think it’s safe to say that a woman (or man!) who chooses doula work has a healthy interest in pregnancy, birth, and motherhood. I don’t find it difficult, though, to reconcile my own lifelong fascination with motherhood with my position as a pro-choice, feminist woman. My commitment to making sure women feel empowered and supported on the day they give birth arises naturally out of my feminist conviction that women should be empowered and supported in their health care choices–always. If you don’t want to have a baby, you shouldn’t have to. If you do want to have one, you should be able to do so in a way that feels right to you.
I entered my doula training a year ago, seriously fired up about the sorry state of childbirth in America: our rapidly-rising Caesarean section rate (currently at around 30%, a full 15% higher than what the World Health Organization recommends), the “cascade of interventions,” out of control hospital costs, unnecessary episiotomies, and more. I was pissed off.
A year later, I’m not any less pissed off about our flawed maternity system. But what I’ve learned is that I cannot and will not let my personal feelings about what a birth “should” or “should not” be affect the birth experiences of my clients or the caliber of my commitment to doula work. As a doula, my role is to support the hopes, desires, and choices of the laboring woman and her family: Her body, her birth, her baby, her choice. Period.
There are doulas in my community who refuse to work with women who think they might want epidurals, as well as doulas who won’t attend hospital births (or inductions, or births in particular hospitals, with particular doctors or midwives, and so on). Those doulas are entitled to run their practices in whatever way feels right to them. Doula work, is after all, profoundly personal. I try as hard as I can to make sure my own practice is centered around continuous emotional and physical support to any woman that wants that support, no matter what her particular choices might be and no matter what happens in the course of her care.
When a client hires me as her doula, we have an in-depth meeting where we discuss her preferences for her birth: Does she want an epidural? How about analgesic pain medication, continuous fetal monitoring, a IV heplock? Is she hoping to have an unmedicated, low-intervention birth? Would she like massage, guided visualizations, coached breathing, low lights in the room? Would she like to be free to push in whatever position feels right to her? Does she desire her partner to catch the baby? Does she want her baby kept in the room with her once the baby is born? These preferences are personal and they are complex—as complex as the decision to carry a baby to term, or not. It’s not my place to question any woman’s choices or assertions throughout their pregnancy or labor. It’s my place to support them and their partner, if they have one: to ask questions, to facilitate communication, to smile, to reassure, to remain calm.
Unlike the doctors, nurses, and even the woman’s partner, my presence at a birth is exclusively centered on the woman, my client. My focus is not on the being that’s about to be born; it’s on the living, breathing, laboring woman in front of me. During a labor (especially those that happen in a hospital setting), the beeping monitors and busy-ness of a labor and delivery floor can sometimes make it seem like the baby’s physical safety is greater, more vital, than that of the woman laboring to bring the baby into the world. While I obviously value the lives of the babies my clients are working to have, my commitment is to their mothers.
Of course, there are an infinite number of factors that can affect the choices and decisions that these mothers make: everything from insurance companies to medical conditions to hospital policies to the baby’s position during labor to the care provider who happens to be working the day someone gives birth. Birth is a process and that means everything—and I mean everything— is constantly subject to change: the “plan,” the preferences, the emotions, the mood in the room, the baby’s heart rate, the mother’s blood pressure, and on and on and on.
There are no guarantees in birth. The only thing anyone can be sure of is that a baby is going to get out of a body, hopefully in a way that is safe for both mother and child. Ideally, the mother has positive feelings about her experience. Ideally, so does her partner. That very uncertainty, is, in my opinion, why it can be helpful to have a trained support person like a doula present during labor (if you want one, of course). I don’t like to generalize any further, because if there’s one thing that birth work has taught me, it’s that there is always an exception to the rule. Nothing is ever unequivocal. Not during the pregnancy, not during the hard work of the birth, and certainly not once the baby is finally out, finally an independent being. It’s a good thing, this fluidity, this uncertainty; it means that there is space, that we can make space, for different women in different circumstances with different choices.
And for me, that’s the crux of my conviction: choice. Choice is the the reason I started this work and it’s the reason I continue. It’s the reason I stand for hours, putting pressure on a laboring mother’s back, the reason my life is planned months in advance in anticipation of a birth that could happen at any time, and why a birth ball blocks the back windshield of my car three weeks of each month. For me, having choice in childbirth easily connects to the larger reproductive rights agenda. A woman should be able to choose if and when she becomes a mother, just as she should be able to choose how and where that happens, as well as with whom. (Necessary disclaimer: Barring those infinite variables, both medical and non-medical, that directly impact the health and/or survival of the mother and baby).
When a woman I’ve doula-ed gets the birth she wanted and planned, I’m happy, proud and satisfied. But I leave each birth hoping, more than anything, that I’ve helped the mother feel secure and supported in the choices she made throughout her birth, no matter what her outcome might have been.
As a pro-choice feminist, I plan to eventually expand my practice and focus some of my energy on the doula work that’s happening outside of the labor room. There is a small, growing, doula movement to support every woman on the reproductive spectrum: Full-spectrum doulas provide support for every pregnancy outcome, including abortion, stillbirth, miscarriage, adoption, surrogacy, and, yes, birth. There’s still more work to be done, of course; The birth world has a long way to go in terms of supporting low-income families, LGBT families, and other people who don’t have access to the spectrum of “choice” that the (often) privileged, cisgendered women who have the means to hire a doula are afforded.
Still, I’m proud to be part of a community devoted to making birth better for women, and I’m eager to see how the role of a doula might change and evolve in different settings, not only here in the United States, but around the world. In my own small corner, I continue my work with birthing women, listening, valuing, encouraging, affirming. Her body, her birth, her baby, her choice.
For more information on pro-choice and full spectrum doulas, visit RadicalDoula.com or the Full Spectrum Doula Network.
Tags: abortion, carrie murphy, doulas, feminism
I mean, this is really sweet and I’m glad you are there for women and not judging their choices or whatever, and I certainly understand how being so involved with pregnancies and births could make you more staunchly pro-choice (it happened to me!) BUT let’s not pretend it’s just a matter of choice whether or not a woman has a doula; how many low-income or uninsured (for financial reasons) women have been your clients? I suspect the number would be close to zero but I’d be happy to be proved wrong. I mean it’s your profession and you deserve to be paid but you seem to be trying to say “It’s not just for rich ladies!” but you don’t back that up in any way.
I was coming here to say: insurance needs to include doula services. Some plans do, but I suspect that they are few and far between. It would help many, many women and legitimatize the profession, since there are plenty of misconceptions about the services provided.
Also, many people are completely confused by the differences between doulas, midwifes, post-partum doulas, baby nurses, etc.
Absolutely. Also, there are so many women who aren’t covered by insurance to begin with, who go into massive amounts of debt just by giving birth in a hospital, who aren’t given the resources they need to raise their children and make enough money to get by, who can’t afford daycare or any of the other host of products and services necessary in order to have a family and a job in this country.
Wanted to chime in that doulas (Birth at least, I’m not sure about Postpartum) are increasingly able to get insurance codes for their practices so if you’re in the right state, have the right insurance, and are willing/able to spend many hours on the phone with your insurance company while transitioning to parenthood, it is possible to be reimbursed for doula services!
We need to completely redo the maternity services portion of insurance. There’s been a lot of (fruitless. 🙁 ) attempts at making a baby here and when it finally happens, it is not going to be anywhere as cheap as giving birth to my son 7 1/2 years ago was for me. I didn’t pay anything. Or maybe a tiny co-pay for something, like $40? Now we pay for my first doctor’s appointment and I believe that I have to meet my $1000 deductible before they cover their 90% of the hospital bills. This is a far cry from $40. I had employer insurance then and I do now. The costs to individuals has risen dramatically, as my plan seems to be around the norm from what I can tell around here. I know it has risen across the board too, but this seems a bit extreme. I believe that I saw a study recently that laid out how much it has increased for maternity services alone since around the time that I had my son and it was crazy.
I also know that a birthing center is supposed to be opening in my area soon and one of the recent updates that I saw from them said that they were trying to get area insurers to cover them. I am not sure if this is an early step, or if this is also something insurance companies are reluctant to cover. I’m rooting for my insurer to pick them up and it to be open before my turn gets here.
Yes! There’s the thing where my inner hippy would love this (along with a water birth) as an option but where I wouldn’t be able to pay a private person to help me along with a pregnancy! And that’s with living in the uk where (at the moment at least) the rest of my pregnancy would be covered by the NHS.
And you deserve to be paid for your time, I get that, and I know that it’s different in the US but I know that in the UK ‘wellness care’ professionals can set up arrangements with the NHS so that the NHS pays them a bit of money so that they can offer lower-cost appointments to low-income people.
(Sadly we are not low-income enough to qualify for my therapist fees to be on that)
Speaking of being paid for your time: my post-partum doula told me that the flat fee she charges sometimes works against her– sometimes she’s assisting labor that takes over 24 hours. Holy moly.
There are some free or free-ish groups that provide doula services, but I bet it’s all subject to serious budget limits and is available only in cities. The NHS system sounds interesting.
Oh, it’s far from perfect. Waiting times are long, you can’t change caregiver if you don’t get on (important for therapists) you get limited time and you have to be both sick and poor enough to qualify.
I had to go private for therapy because they told me I wasn’t depressed enough to get it on the NHS. If I got worse or required being sectioned, I would have been. Of course, it would cost them more to care for me if I was sectioned, but…
Again, limited appointments. My therapist has four NHS appointments a month and that’s all she can afford as they don’t pay the whole amount she normally charges.
But it’s better than a lot of other options, that’s for sure.
I am quite interested in your experience with dealing with depression in the UK. I lived here for almost two years and am unsure of how to go about dealing with my mental illness.
Ooof.
Well, it’s a long story that doesn’t show the NHS or me in their best lights.
If you want, email me on anninyn (at) gmail (dot) com and I’ll try and organise my thoughts for you.
In my city — big, liberal, nonprofit heavy city, so that’s definitely a factor — there are some volunteer doula programs, a couple of which focus on low-income women and have a strong emphasis on being multi-cultural and multi-lingual. I haven’t worked with any of them personally, but I’ve heard they’re excellent!
I’m a volunteer medical interpreter/doula in the Bay Area for a program called Compañeras. In big cities, volunteer doula services are available, but not as a matter of course. I definitely think we need to improve access and options for birth support.
I read “It’s not just for rich white ladies” differently. I thought she did a great job discussing how “choice” extends into labor and delivery, and how the needs of the woman giving birth are often superseded by the baby’s – ergo, all women should have access to a doula. But they don’t, which figures in at the end, where in the second to last paragraph (I know, not a great place) she discusses the ways she hopes she can expand her practice and expand “choice” along the entire reproductive spectrum to the entire sexual and economic spectrum.
fair enough – I must admit I did get a little stuck on that point, and maybe didn’t read the rest as carefully as I should have. It’s definitely personal for me; it might have been nice to feel like having a doula was an option for me, but it wasn’t even a consideration due to the costs I already faced.
I’m with you– I would have loved to have had a doula at my kid’s birth, but let’s face it, we’d already blown all our savings (not a lot!) on baby supplies, and a doula sounded expensive and unfamiliar. In the end, I had the husband and best friend with me, so I felt comfortable cracking dick jokes during labor.
Next time? A friend in SF has offered to fly up and help for free because she wants to see a birth real bad and has doula training.
My goal in writing this piece was to show that doula work is connected to supporting women’s reproductive choices, not merely to say having a doula is a great choice that should be available to women. What I meant, and I think what I wrote, is that I became a doula because I believe women should have autonomy over their bodies. There’s a lot of complicated issues related to birth and reproductive choice, and the availability of doula care (and ALL reproductive health care) for lower income women and uninsured women is certainly one of them. But that’s not something I was trying to back up in my essay, because that wasn’t the focus, for me. That’s why I mentioned some of the problems with birth work, briefly, in just a few sentences, basically because I could write a whole other essay just about that topic and it didn’t seem prudent to attempt to hash out all of those complicated socioeconomic issues in this particular essay. If you’re interested in the specific populations of women I’ve served in the past, shoot me an email at [email protected], I’m happy to share that with you.
Thanks for responding! I didn’t mean to be dismissive of your actual point, and as I just commented above I think I might have skimmed that 2nd last para that really assuages my initial huffiness on that point. But yeah it would be nice for everyone to have you as an option!
Well, I’m not sure you could have been much more dismissive than leading off with “I mean, this is really sweet…” Maybe next time you can RTFA before letting your huffiness get the best of you.
Oh, I genuinely meant that though! It was my way of saying I do appreciate what she does but I took issue with what I saw as glossing over an important factor – then another commenter and the poster herself gave me some new perspective. Which was all rather civilized and lovely, I thought.
Ilu icebergmama
ilu civilized discourse
ilu carrie murphs
But maybe fat apollo can go screw
Sorry, that wasn’t very civilized.
Aw, I love icebergmama as much as anybody else, but I was also surprised by what I thought was some archness in that comment. I’m glad I was wrong, no need to jump on fat apollo for reading it the same way.
…Sometimes I wish that I could bake a cake out of rainbows and smiles, and we’d all eat it and be happy….
Eh, I just thought invoking “RTFA” and making claims of “huffiness” on Bergie’s part was kind of a dick move. I will cotton to being overly sensitive right now, but FA’s comment seemed like it had a whiff of “Oh, you hysterical females” about it.
Anyway, I’ll drop it and let’s all hold hands and dance ’round the maypole! (Or go chase lightening bugs in a sweet-smelling field, if you want to be more seasonally appropriate.)
I love you and MsJinxie! both! Yeah now re-reading I can see how it could have come off that way, which is why I wasn’t rude to fat Apollo, but yeah I did not mean it that way and it’s possible that crept in due to my closeness to the topic of not having a lot of money as it relates to pregnancy & birth options.
Hey, like I said, it’s not like the powers that be have a financial incentive to provide coverage for things like doula care. So let’s regroup and channel our energies on the usual culprit. PATRIARCHYYY. *beats breastplate*
I love that you drew explicit connections between doula work and reproductive rights, which makes it, I think, pretty obvious why doula care isn’t accessible to lower income women. Something that empowers women and grants them greater autonomy in the face of the medical establishment? Yeah, that ain’t gettin’ coverage.
I feel like HIRING a doula is for rich ladies, or at least for middle-class ladies who make this particular thing a priority because it’s super-important to them, but everything she’s described as a doula’s duties seem to me to be things you could totally get a partner or a good friend to do. They’d need to put some conscious effort in, of course, but I’d think of that as the on-a-budget option.
(Or the option if you’d rather have someone who knows you in that position of support, which would be me all the way. I want someone who knows the best way to distract me from excruciating pain is inappropriate jokes and storytelling.)
That’s a good point. I really like the idea of having it be a friend or partner who is touching me, encouraging me, advocating for me with the doctors, bringing me ice chips, telling me stories… especially because, as you said, they would know me and know that I wouldn’t want to hear any spiritual/Earth Goddessy/”trust birth” stuff. No. Give me medical facts, tell me jokes, dig your elbows into my back and help me move around, please.
I’d definitely want a GOOD relationship with a doctor or midwife, but I’d want an INTIMATE one with a doula, so someone I already know seems ideal. (Caveat: I think! I haven’t actually done this.) Also, free!
My doula said that for some people (myself included), it’s easier to have a stranger do it, because then you can yell at her and push her away and not feel bad, because what do you care about this random hippie’s feelings?
That makes a lot of sense. It’s a pretty big job to ask someone to tackle, and all the mean shit they’re likely to say in the midst of horrible pain is part of the job. You have to have a certain kind of friendship (or partnership) to weather that, and maybe like one of mine would quality. Maybe. Depends on if she likes me that day.
That also makes sense. Also the “it’s easier to poop in front of a stranger and not worry about whether it will change how they think of you forever” factor.
I think that advocacy aspect of it a partner or friend could do, but my husband (for example) knew even less about childbirth than I did. It would have been nice to be able to get some questions about the process answered by someone with plenty of experience rather than our going into the hospital not reeeeally knowing what to expect.
Oh, absolutely. My comment probably wasn’t as clear as it might have been on that. I don’t think doulas just wake up one day and go to work. It clearly involves a lot of studying and learning and practicing. But for those without the monies, I think a friend or partner willing to put in the hours could do the job.
“I want someone who knows the best way to distract me from excruciating pain is inappropriate jokes and storytelling.”
This. I quoted a lot of ’30 Rock’ when my ladyfriend had brain surgery, with the voices. “AH AH AH. It feels good to laugh.”
Best episode.
“Thank you all, dear friends… FOR COMING TO MY BIRTHDAY.” (It helped that her birthday was 3 days after the surgery)
In April 2011 Oregon passed HB3311, paving the way for Medicaid reimbursement of doulas. Evidence-based doula programs like The Haven’s Doula Program, The Farmworker Doula Program, and HealthConnect One’s community-based doula programs show doulas benefit public health and lower healthcare costs. The Oregon legislature voted on HB3311 because of the efforts of Shafia Monroe, a Portland midwife and founder of the International Center for Traditional Childbearing (http://www.ictcmidwives.org/). Through Medicaid reimbursement, she hopes to ensure that low-income pregnant people have access to doulas from within their communities, and that doulas serving these communities are paid a living wage. I’m talking about her like this because I interviewed her for Midwifery Today and she is an inspiration and perhaps her message is relevant here.
Anyplace you find doulas, you will find doulas attending births for free — through personal connections, hospital volunteer programs, the growing network of Doula Projects, working with local social and health workers, etc. Sometimes I go through a period when I mostly attend pro-bono births, then I go through a period when I’m going mostly to paying ones. It evens out, but supporting a family through birth is a significant investment of physical, emotional and financial resources. Every doula I know, no matter what the top of her fee scale is, goes to at least some births each year for free. And for some doulas, it’s the vast majority of what they do whether by choice, place of residence or the demographics of the community they serve.
I think that this comment isn’t completely fair. I have many a doula friend, because I work in feminist organizing, and they all make genuine efforts to work with women from all social classes. They’ve done pro bono or reduced-fee births. Also, what someone said below is 100% true–the doulas I know charge a flat rate (which is covered by some extended benefits/health care plans, but not all) and if the labour is unending, they end up making that fee for hours and hours of work.
ALSO: Hard to believe that some people can be so down on epidurals. I think maybe I would have died without one, and I’m not totally sure if I’m kidding here or not.
RIGHT? Sweet, sweet epidural, I love you.
SERIOUSLY. I haven’t given birth, but honestly, I would be really freaking skeptical of someone who didn’t want me to have pain meds during a process that is so painful.
It seems pretty patriarchal to say “I won’t be your child-labor support if you don’t feel the full amount of womanly pain.” Fuck that.
Right?? Having had a pretty terrible pregnancy, I was DONE with womanly suffering. I have no doubt I would have, at best, assaulted numerous members of hospital staff and at worst, attempted suicide without one. I did have an especially bonkers labor & delivery though, so my case was atypical.
I was induced, ana apparently the pain hits harder more swiftly or something. It was like being punched.
When Nicole talked about going the natural route, I tipped my hat at her.
It so, so does! I stopped dialating around 9 cm and I was like, huh, this isn’t that bad, what the hell is wrong with movies and TV. Then they gave me pitocin (the stuff that they induce with, for anyone who doesn’t know) and my life was hell and when they offerred an epidural, I was ready to jam that thing into my own spine and spinal cords gross me out. I shiver just thinking about having an epidural because spines.
Yeah, since doing Biology 1 at uni I’ve learnt what an epidural actually involves and the idea of needles in a spinal cord, needing to get it in EXACTLY the right place with almost zero margin for error sounded terrifying to me.
I can’t think of any instances where it’s caused paralysis, which is truly a testament to the amazingness of people doing this stuff!
Epidural: kept me from having to have a lot more anesthesia when it turned out I needed a C-section.
Since I had a medically necessary scheduled C-section, I was pretty damn happy to get a spinal. I feel like “womanly pain” that you nobly suffer during childbirth shouldn’t include “feeling the scalpel slice through your lower abs and uterus so the OB can yank the baby out.”
JUST realized that picture is of a stork, and therefore totally relevant to the piece. For some reason I kept thinking it was a pelican?
I thought it was a crane!
I’m very intrigued by the idea of non-birth doulas assisting and supporting women though all “pregnancy outcomes,” as you say. Brings to mind Melis’s piece about how abortion should be from earlier this week. (Billy Joel, abortion doula, etc.)
Seriously, I think an abortion doula sounds like a fantastic idea.
. . . okay, seriously, I think there is a shit-ton of money to be made with that idea. I would have bought the HELL out of an abortion doula, and I was in no way capable of affording one.
This is, to a certain degree, the kind of work done by Exhale Pro-Voice. They’re a wonderful organization that tries to stay resolutely politically neutral to better serve the needs of their clients. They are also one of the best resources out there for men who are grieving after their partner has an abortion. If you would like to help, they always need contributions and volunteers.
https://exhaleprovoice.org/
Read a NYT piece about them here: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/14/us/14bcexhale.h…
I like that commenters here know everything. Carry on.
Check out Miriam Perez’s Radical Doula Guide for more information on full spectrum doulas: http://radicaldoula.com/category/the-radical-doul…
Thanks for sharing! I love the idea of a full-spectrum doula. There’s so much that women (and men) go through alone. We could all use more support.
If Mallory’s fantasty abortion clinic was a real thing, you would be working there. Bless you for all that you do.
This was great! As someone who is sort of kind of contemplating trying to get pregnant in the not-too-distant future, I so much want to have close intimate talks with people who know all about babies and birth–but I have recently moved to a new city and don’t really know anyone, and I’m always afraid to look too much into info on motherhood online because, well, scary judgy etc.
So what I’m saying is: “Ask a Doula” could be a feature, maybe???
We just started trying, but are the first of our friends. I like Alphamom, Mommyish (not too much advice, really just a fun community), Offbeat Families, and Mothering (though those last two can sometimes be uber-uber-crunchy).
Seconding AlphaMom, especially anything Amalah-adjacent. Her pregnancy week-by-week thing is amazing, even the second time around.
I’ll push AltDotLife, where I’m a member under a different name, as a good online community for those thinking about babies and what to do with them. Smart women, low judgment.
I had a doula and it was great. I ended up having a c-section (due to some medical issues that are too convoluted to go into here, I was told I needed a c-section immediately about 1 month before my planned due date) and she was with me beforehand to calm me down, immediately after the birth to let me know how the kiddo was doing while I was immobile, and then weeks after to do some housekeeping and breastfeeding advice. Really, really superfantastic and it was money well spent. For a lower cost alternative, you can see if there’s a doula-in-training program. My sister did that and it worked out well for her, too.
I keep reading the title as “I am a Pro-Choice Dracula” and I can’t stop
I’d read that piece.
She thinks blood-sucking is a beautiful thing and knows that sleeping upside down like a bat is really good for your qi.
“Does she want an epidural? How about analgesic pain medication, continuous fetal monitoring, a IV heplock? Is she hoping to have an unmedicated, low-intervention birth? Would she like massage, guided visualizations, coached breathing, low lights in the room? Would she like to be free to push in whatever position feels right to her? Does she desire her partner to catch the baby? Does she want her baby kept in the room with her once the baby is born?”
This section gave me a panic attack and made me 100% I do not want a baby anytime soon.
“I would like to be induced in a 1950s style delivery coma and be handed a glass of whiskey upon awakening, along with my freshly washed, lavender scented baby who proceeds to sleep in 8 hour intervals for the next week. I would also like a salami sandwich, extra pepperocinis, and the 2nd season of Parks and Recreation on DVD.”
“There are doulas in my community who refuse to work with women who think they might want epidurals, as well as doulas who won’t attend hospital births (or inductions, or births in particular hospitals, with particular doctors or midwives, and so on). ”
I sort of half-checked around for a doula during my first pregnancy, and this was what I found a LOT of. From the beginning, I knew I was going to have to be induced, based on my medical history and the blood thinner I have to take during pregnancy (twice-daily heparin injections, holla!), and I was not unopposed to an epidural (and in fact got one and wanted to make out with the anesthesiologist). When I presented this information, the response I got was across-the-board Nopes. Pretty frustrating stuff, so I’m glad to see that that is not the only attitude out there.
Many of the doulas in my area are the exact opposite of hippies. They are very much pro-life and Christian, which was not at all what I expected.
Interesting article, thanks!
I was a labour and delivery nurse for a time and I want to let everyone know that the nurse is also someone who can and should support you in emotional, psychological, and physical ways. Further, in addition to being a highly skilled professional caregiver, she/he likely has intimate knowledge of the hospital environment, administrative structures, and physicians, which can be to your advantage as she advocates for/with you throughout the process. The nurse is/should be a very knowledgeable and caring resource – the best of both worlds, in my opinion, and a nurse doesn’t cost extra. This is not to knock the amazing work that doulas do – but just to say that for women who can’t afford doula support, the nurse is there for you. A nurse-doula combo (when available) is usually dynamite too.
TLDR: PSA: don’t forget about nurses!
Anyway, I’m now an abortion nurse researcher and I think I get where you’re coming from Carrie. Thanks for the article.
Truth, there was one particular nurse when I was in hospital after the BBs were born that cared for me SO HARD and she was SO GREAT. I made a point to mention her in some kind of survey thingy or other so she’d get the props she deserved.
So glad to hear that bergiemama, you deserve it! You must have had a lot of people around for the bits – I’m glad at least one nurse made you feel cared for. 🙂
Doula is such a weird word to me. Where does it come from?? I mean I could Google it but that’s no fun.
It’s supposed to be ancient Greek, supposedly indicating “a woman who serves” or “female servant.” It can also be translated as “female slave” because: ancient Greece. I think the women doing this work decided on calling themselves “doulas” sometime in the early 90s, when the scope of practice was being hammered out.
You mean “Why I am a Reproductive Justice Doula?” because that’s what I would call your emphasis on the importance of women feeling trusted and supported in healthcare decision-making.
Good piece, more points for The-Toast
You mean "Why I am a Reproductive Justice Doula?" because that's what I would call your emphasis on the importance of women feeling trusted and supported in healthcare decision-making.
Good piece, more points for The-Toast
I'll push AltDotLife, where I'm a member under a different name, as a good online community for those thinking about babies and what to do with them. Smart women, low judgment.
You are my hero! 😀