Doula Life

As I grow in my service to women, becoming a primary provider, I do not want to lose touch with the women I serve.  I do not want to just "catch" babies.  This is what serving as a doula to women, beginning with the first birth I attended in 1988, has taught me:

When I am with a woman at birth, my personal and professional experience tells me to go to the pain, embrace it and transform it. I have never experienced or seen distractions and avoidance work. Rather, I move with the woman and am with her in the moment. I breathe with her. Each and every contraction. We work with where the baby is at and completely visualize that baby in it's journey down and out. Where is it now? What corner does it need to navigate at that moment? How can the woman adjust her body to assist at that time for better passage? What breath is most helpful to meet the pain and intensity of the contraction head on, go into that pain and melt it away, transforming it and then moving on to the next that will come in a few minutes. If she clenches, stiffens, tries to run away and fights the pain, it hurts more and slows down the progress of the baby being born. Greet the pain, breathe into it, feel where it's at, transform it, move on. Over and over and over again. Rest in between. Bask in knowing the baby has moved forward a little bit more and that you have faced things and moved through them consciously, courageously, with full awareness. The body, when in sync, produces endorphins to help" lubricate" the sensation of pain, making the woman better able to cope. That natural mechanism is only kicked in by working with the pain long enough without fighting or running away from it. It creates calm and peace in the woman.

Before active, yet involuntary, pushing begins there is a transition stage. It is rapid, constant, wave after wave of contractions without let up. The woman often loses her bearings, can feel panicky, wants to run away, feels nauseous, wants to throw up, doesn't think she can bear anymore. But she can and she will. She will breathe faster, meet each wave, pant, stay very, very focused, not run away from the intensity, but increase hers to match. She needs lots and lots of support during this brief and intense unrelenting wave of pain.

And then, when the body has expanded to it's full to allow this new life to emerge, there is a quiet, peaceful, restful time. We call this being "complete." A time to regroup before the hard work of really getting that baby out. Then this overwhelming force takes over. A woman can not fight it. She has to go with it and work with it in order to bring this new being into the light. It is active and all consuming. It's always two steps forward, one step back. If she fights it, there will be little progress and the baby may go into distress. Violent measures may be needed to forcefully rip the baby from the birth passage. If the woman listens to and works with her strong body urges to push the baby out, the baby will descend and be born. But, it's always two steps forward, one step back. Baby emerges, then slides back. Baby emerges, then back again. Finally, the baby emerges and does not retreat. One more push, just one more, and the head emerges. It is the most magical and most frightening moment. The head alone is visible. It is bluish grey, lifeless, not breathing. Caught in this moment between life and death. Then, another surge of energy and force and the entire body is expelled. A new life has been born.

Death, too, must be embraced for the transition to occur with grace and peacefulness. Breathing changes to meet each stage of the process. If death is not accepted, if one fights it, it becomes a gross, hideous anomaly. It is not dignified. If allowed, accepted, supported at each and every stage, it becomes just another passage from one existence into another. Yes, morphine is given to suppress the pain, but simultaneously it heightens the person's awareness of what is really important to them. They conserve and expend their energy purposefully, consciously according to the needs at the time. If one does not accept that the person is dying and tries to distract or carry on as usual, they impair the process and make it into an ugly phenomena. Acceptance, going with the flow of the moment, embracing the transformation turns it into something beautiful.

Living is the same. I do not do distraction well. I do not do avoidance well. I am a Doula. I am with a person, beside them, present for them, breathing with them, feeling with them. Embracing the pain of change, knowing that crisis is an inevitable part of the process, and that the opportunity for growing and creating a new life, a new reality is on the horizon, waiting to emerge. I can not do distraction with you. I am here to walk with you, to be by your side, to breathe with you, to face the situation and transform it and you into something new, more beautiful, stronger, wiser than before. It's just what I do.

This is the essence of being with a woman as she breathes life into the world.  I do not want to lose those roots.  That is the vision.  That is the plan.  To bring all my 50 years of wisdom forward and add to it new wisdom and experience.