What Do You See?

What do you see, doula, what do see;
What do you see when you look at me?
Am I a mother who's knowledgeable and wise;
Strong and capable at birth in your eyes?
I shower, I lunge and I rock on the ball;
My husband and I go for walks down the hall.
I trust my instincts to squat and to stand;
You show your support by squeezing my hand.

The lights are dimmed, the music turned on;
The concept of time has come and gone.
I release my fear when the surge rides high;
I blow out my breath on a mighty sigh.

The pressure overwhelms, the urge is strong;
You smile at me and say, "It won't be long!"
Suddenly there is a hive of activity;
Bright lights, loud voices - the commontion scares me.

My husband holds my hand, you whisper in my ear;
"Listen to your body, there's nothing to fear.
"I breathe my baby down, slowly blowing out;
The burning is so outrageous that I have to shout!

I feel my baby crowning, my journey almost complete;
I see a head, shoulders, legs and finally - tiny feet!
A wet warm baby is placed gently on my chest;
After all, I had read that skin-to-skin was best.

I stroke that velvet skin and cry silent tears of joy;
My baby...My baby...My beautiful baby boy!
I turn to you with my heart on my sleeve;
"You did the work," you said, "all I did was believe."

I wrote this poem in 2010...so what do I see? Strong, capable, smart women - loving, gentle, encouraging families. This job resonates within my soul...I truly love what I do.