I decided to write this post, as a form of exfoliation in midst of my gratitude. My first experience as a birth Doula left me feeling very heavy, and for a nanosecond, reassessing my career choice. Don’t get me wrong I was very thankful that I was able to assist Dawn* but I couldn’t shake the mental exhaustion, I had felt from all the passive aggressiveness & negative energy propelled at me in the delivery room. I felt like I was being punished for being a Doula. Why? For assisting women and helping improve their birth outcomes. After everything was over, I thought to myself will all births be this taxing? I’m writing this to look back and see my growth, and hopefully change at least one medical professionals perspective on the role of a Doula. So here goes nothing…
“I felt like I was being punished for being a Doula. Why? For assisting women and helping improve their birth outcomes.”
On Friday May 19th, my client called me a quarter to 7pm, and informed me that her mucous plug came out. She told me she was going to get into the shower, and that she would return my call. Side note: I was so proud of her for remaining calm. One point to Gryffindor! Hours passed before I heard anything. Around 11pm a family member reached out, and told me that the mom was requesting my presence. During those four hours of radio silence, and failed attempts to reach out, my mind was all over the place. I tried to think positively but it was hard to not feel defeated. I know I’m not the one laboring, and that it’s supposed to be all about the mom, But I have feelings too! When you build a bond it’s hard not to have any emotions, especially when your M.I.A. for the golden hour you both have been preparing for. As I began to get ready I had the knots in my stomach, but nonetheless I was excited. I had already packed my Doula bag, so I just changed my clothes, and went on my way. During the Uber ride there, I tried to ease my tension by letting the wind hit my face, and took deep breaths. I went to grab my water bottle from my bag, and realized I forgot it rushing out of the house. It was a short ride to the hospital, so I decided to get water at a vending machine there.
At 11:40pm I arrived, and was dumbfounded when the elevator I used during the day wasn’t responding to my calls. I learned right then and there, that It’s a different world in the hospital at the night. Different elevator access, different security protocols, a different vibe period! Having to reassess everything, added to my anxiety but I walked swiftly into the maze of confusion, and managed to get my water, and make it upstairs. I didn’t let the changes throw me off balance and deter me from the goal. Ten minutes later, I walked into the room and began helping Dawn cope with breathing techniques.
“When you build a bond, it’s hard not to have any emotions, especially when your M.I.A. for the golden hour you both have been preparing for.”
Helping my client labor ended up being the easiest part of my job that night. What was extremely overwhelming was the emotional baggage from the hospital staff. My peers had warned about this hospital, I was told that they weren’t the friendliest. So I had an idea, of what I was getting myself into, but to what extent I had no clue. Dawn’s plan was to have a natural birth, and she did just that. Besides being hooked up to a couple of machines, everything went well.
Those of us in the reproductive health world, learn that every birth is different, but outcomes strongly depend on the behavior of the staff. That night I learned, I must develop my own techniques for addressing unethical bullshit & egos.
There’s a thin line between advocacy and wanting to curse someone out. I held my tongue for fear of retaliation on the mom. They were so rude, and in the worst passive aggressive way! After a few minutes in the room I decided to break the ice by engaging the night nurse in light conversation.
Me: reads name tag “How are you tonight Grinchy* ?” a minute went by before she responded. Grinchy Jones* scolded me and said, my error was that I used her first name and mistakenly assumed we were friends, “ You don’t know me like that to call me by my first name, my name is Ms. Jones.” *Gasp* My response was “oh. kay” During labor the Midwife and the nurse seemed to be in a continuous power struggle. I thought our collective goal was the well being of the mom, and not who decides who gets to move, while extracting medicine into a syringe?
“Grinchy Jones* scolded me and said, my error was that I used her first name and mistakenly assumed we were friends,”
Grinchy is definitely in need of a quality control workshop. We all have issues sis, but leave that shit at home. Easier said than done, but suck it up. Unacceptable. There was one nice doctor; while I translated, he helped coach the mom through labor by reinforcing breathing techniques. It was a pleasure working with him. I didn’t feel like my role was less important, because it was obvious we had the same interest at hand. Bravo to him.
“If I was given knowledge of my experience beforehand, and asked if i would help Dawn all over again, I would.”
After the baby was born, and mom got skin to skin, Grinchy, the night nurse overheard the mom, asking me to assist her in breastfeeding, to which her unsolicited response was “yeah, aren’t you the Doula? Help her breastfeed,” I thought to myself why didn’t she call out today lord? Why? Despite that breastfeeding was a success. When it was time to move mom into recovery, she was instructed to change beds. While doing so, she began to moan out in pain, you know because she just pushed a tiny human out of her vagina. A different nurse comments:
“ I don’t know why you people do this?”
Me a little experienced, and annoyed now “ do what?”
“Why you make these women think they can give birth naturally. Look at her *pointing to mom* she’s suffering”
me: mentally... In the name of the father…. Sun…. “ Guess what?!
Her: “what?”
“ She’s had this idea way before she met me, I just helped her achieve that goal. Besides she did it, and she will be fine”
Why did I have to explain that to her? Justifying that the mom had a choice. It’s one thing to have an opinion about birth, but the problem arises when you put your two cents in, to shame a patient. That is never the job of the provider, to shame, especially in a moment of need.
“I reaffirmed that it was OK to be tired, and that she had just accomplished something major. Childbirth.”
During our first postpartum visit, She thanked me when I came to visit her next day, and said “I heard you asking for skin-to-skin, and asking (for the right time) to take pictures. Thank you.” That is priceless. The most memorable thing was the joy the mom felt seeing her baby boy for the first time. During the two hours before mom was moved into recovery, felt like the twilight hours, it was magical but eerie. Something I can’t quite explain. The mom was left alone in the delivery room w/o any checkups from the nurse, ( Grinchy did mention she had a lot of paperwork to do, before she moved the mom). I WAS there for her, she told me numerous times it was OK to leave but it wouldn’t have felt right. I stayed and gave her water from the bottle I purchased earlier in the evening, and feed her crackers. I reaffirmed that it was OK to be tired, and that she had just accomplished something major. Childbirth. Those twilight hours helped reaffirmed to me why Doulas are important.
*names changed for privacy