As I sit in the park, watching my six-year-old son play, I converse with the mom doing the same next to me. Then the subject comes up “What do you do?” I say, “I am a Doula”. I hear the usual response: “A what?” Then she says, “Like a midwife right?”
My purpose is to be there for the mother, to help her carry out her plans for birth, hold her hand when she cries, keep the rice packs warmed & on her back, if needed with each contraction, put cool cloths on her neck & forehead, wipe the sweat from her brow, massage her back when it aches, squeeze her hips to relieve the pressure, help her to change positions to get things moving, remind her to use the bathroom every hour and help her to get there, offer ice, water, and lip balm, walk the halls with her, turn on the music that helps her relax, remind her to breathe, remind her to picture the baby moving down the birth canal, remind her that she is strong, tell her she CAN when she thinks she can’t, and always tell her how great she is doing. AND, never forgetting what a powerful, yet fragile time this is and strive to protect that memory for her by keeping it a positive one.
I am there for her partner, too … to give him suggestions, pat him on the back and tell him that it really IS okay. I bring him food when he needs to eat, coffee when he needs a pick-me-up and a chair when he needs to sit. I offer suggestions he can do that will make his partner the most pleased, so that HE looks like the perfect picture of support to her. Most of all, I am NEVER there to take his place or get in the way of the couple’s special day.
In other words, I do anything and everything that I can to help her cope with her labor and make it an empowering, memorable experience. When she pushes; I am whispering to her how great she is doing, holding her leg, if needed & making eye contact so she is reassured that all is well.
When the baby is born and placed on her tummy, I smile and shed a tear or two, and tell her again what a great effort she has accomplished.
I am there when she feeds her baby for the first time and reassure her that she is doing well. And when the family is all snuggled in close, loving each other, I take a few shots with the camera and then I quietly slip out the door.
I often wonder as I drive home from a birth: