Chapter One: I, Doula

My boss is a bitch.  I can be called to work at any hour of the day, any day of the week and on any day of the year.  I pray her rhythm is smooth and steady but know that it can be erratic and brutal.  I am breathless with anticipation, cold from battered emotions or exhausted from sheer effort trying to figure out her personality.  She makes me wait endlessly for some, tests how fast I can jump with others but more often than not, she decides I can do more than I thought I could in a 24 hour period.  She is a fickle creature and if you try to rush her, she may humor you, or she might turn as vicious as a trapped animal.  She may even quit.  She is physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually and socially exhausting—always.  My heart is expanded every time we meet, but I wish sometimes the images seared into my brain would disappear.  I love her and I hate her.  She is Mother Nature—and she’s about to give birth.

I like to believe I chose this career path; but in all honesty, I think it chose me.  I’ve always had a nurturing spirit—give me something to love and I will give it my whole heart.  Being a doula has been both a gift and a curse, but I wouldn’t trade this job for anything.  I cherish every woman and couple I have met on this journey, each baby I have seen take its first breath, and the heartache that can and will happen inevitably in this profession.  The constant state of ambiguity, contingency plans, and spontaneity may be overwhelming for some, but for me it is my life’s blood.  I thrive in this chaotic lifestyle as it challenges my brain, stretches my compassion, pushes my endurance, and simply because nothing compares to it.

I do question my rationale once in a while; especially if I am weaving on my feet after being up a few days in a row, recovering from a bladder infection because I didn’t void for hours on end or am having digestive problems because the only thing available to eat came out of a gas station or a vending machine.  I have powered through births with pneumonia, raging headaches, and muscles screaming from abuse.  I have drunk enough caffeine to overcome outrageous fatigue, so that I think some days I bleed brown instead of red.  I have perfected the art of sleeping standing up with my eyes open and sounding totally coherent on the telephone after waking in the dead of night.  I know every speed trap on a myriad of Alberta and Saskatchewan highways and back roads; I know when to go for broke and when to ease off the gas.  I have been bitten, spit on, punched, and had my hair pulled out—usually not with intent but in the heat of the moment.  I have been hugged, kissed, and praised; celebrating the trials and triumphs with new parents.  I have waded through puke, blood, amniotic fluid, mucous, fecal matter, and urine.  I get excited at body fluids during the process as it usually means change is happening—who does that?  I have tried to quit, but this calling is too strong.  I was made to be the silent observer, the gentle guide, or the voice of reason during birth.  Why, out of all the things in the world to do, am I good at this?

Seriously, who in their right mind signs up for this shit?  The hours suck, the money crappy, the disrespect rampant, and the job unknown.  If you don’t know what a doula is then please look it up—I’d be a millionaire if I was paid a dollar for every time I heard, “You’re a what?”  I have invested my time, my heart, and my existence to helping women and their partners welcome new life into the world.  And while it sounds all roses and rainbows, it is not, so please open your eyes.  There is a cost—be it emotional, physical, familial or financial.  I have been berated by medical professionals for simply existing; not for something I said or did outside my scope of practice, but rather to confirm an egotistical megalomaniac’s hierarchy of power.  I have contorted my body into positions that would rival a yoga master, a mechanic, and Houdini himself all in the effort to make a mother feel more comfortable.  I have missed huge events in my children’s lives which they remind me of constantly, and it makes my heart bleed with thoughts of failure as a parent. I barely break even most of the time from the effort and expenses I put into the venture, even though money is often the last thing I think about.  I have pushed the envelope of sound body and mind and paid dearly for it.  I have cracked, gone over the edge, burned out, and fought my way back too many times to count.  This profession may be valued by some or ridiculed by others so I am constantly dodging a minefield—good, bad or ugly—daily.

If I take this back to the very beginning, I can either blame or thank my mother.  After having a terrifying, unsatisfying, and demoralizing first birth experience, I found myself pregnant again almost five years later.  I remember thinking “Isn’t there a better way to do this?”  Now, never ask fate a question and be unprepared for the answer.  Mine came in the form of a newspaper article about the benefits of doulas that my mom found when I was seven months along.  “What the hell is a doula?” and then “Where do I find one!”  My mom’s greatest gift to me aside from giving me life was the gift of another woman’s support. 

I ended up with the most amazing birth experience because of one woman’s help and knowledge.  It was my missing piece of the puzzle.  I rode the glory of that birth for months!  Because of this life-changing experience, I wanted to be the bearer of wisdom, kindness, and support to others.  God, I was so sweet and terribly naïve back then.  That is not to say that I am cranky and mean now!  I was taught by some of the best in the birth field; however, I have since learned that not every birth experience was going to be as fabulous as my own, but my presence can make a difference on how that experience was perceived. 

The stories of these journeys are priceless—accomplishment, empowerment, strength, disappointment, rage and heartache.  It is often said that when a person’s inhibitions are lowered they reveal who they really are.  I see that time and time again, medications help it along sometimes too.  Pain is the great leveler—it has no equal.  Some memories of my current and past couples have me breaking out in uncontrollable laughter, or spilling a waterfall of tears.  These emotions are raw, true, and a beautiful dictation of the human spirit. 

When I decided to connect the dots of my life, to weave these moments of time together, I knew this is not just my history; it is the history of over a thousand children’s welcome to the world.  These tidbits are needed in today’s birth world—a world where fear, disconnection and medicalization overrules dignity, trust and respect.  Some simply are just too hilarious not to share while others need to be shared to gain insight and wisdom.  And because…I spent years trying to create a legacy only to realize I needed to leave one. 

Doula Tools?

Often I am asked what I bring to a birth—what is in my doula bag.  Many new doulas are curious and looking for tips or ideas of what to pack with them that is easily transportable for comfort measures and such when they attend labouring mothers.  Suffice to say, I carry nothing tangible—no essential oils, no massage tools, no lotions, no rice socks, no birth ball—what kind of doula am I?

What I bring to births pretty much is God-given…my voice, my ears, my eyes, my heart, my brain, my hands and a very strong back.  I do carry a camera, my wallet and a change of clothes; but otherwise I have no backpack of supplies, no rolling suitcase of magic tricks—no special items of any kind.  I think that all doulas new to this field eventually give up or limit what is brought to births the longer they actually do this job.  I think I carried a bag of labour support items for the first 5 births I did, then I just found I never really used any of it!

If one reads and understands the literature of what a birth doula actually is and what she is supposed to be in the first place, they’ll realize we were never intended to have all these lotions and potions.  The 21 controlled and randomized studies done on doulas in the last 25 years focus solely on the doula's presence, not what the doula is doing.  Doulas inherently protect a labouring mother’s space; doulas BE not DO.  Many times newer doulas think they need to be helping a mother labour by assisting in ways of massage techniques, using essential oils, understanding herbal remedies, moving her into positions to promote labour progress and such.  (Most of this stuff is outside a doula's scope of practice, but it depends on her certifying organization.) While sometimes a doula will offer guidance in different types of comfort techniques or help promote movement, if it becomes necessary, a doula does not need tools to do so…she needs instinct, love and kindness.  Birth is not a production—it is a bodily function, and it needs time and patience to occur. 

Most items, if indeed necessary, used during a birth can be found either in the home or the hospital—my clientele chuckle that I am the MacGyver of all things related to labour.  Many of my clientele already have things in their homes to use (which solves the whole cross-contamination issue) and most hospitals carry what I can use; if I need something.  Honestly, homes pretty much have anything and everything and hospitals have towels for gripping, ice and water dispensers, heated blankets, hot showers, water bottles, perhaps a birth ball gathering dust in a far corner, a TENS machine hidden away on a shelf and many other items that if you think outside the box, you find you can use it! 

But really, what all my mothers and partners want from me is a calming presence, a hand to hold, sincere praise and encouragement and knowing that I believe in them and the work they are doing to bring forth new life.  They want me to hold their private space, they want me to be the tranquility in the storm, and they want me to slow the pace down if things start to veer off their intended course so they can make informed choices.  They want my instincts as a birth observer—nothing more, nothing less.

So to answer the question I am so often asked—I take myself to a birth—the essence of me and I give that to each and every labouring mother.  No tools, no tricks, no magic…

Miss Understood

I’m an introvert and I like it...


I am tired of being misunderstood.  I’m tired of other people thinking I’m intimidating, arrogant and anti-social. I’m tired of people thinking if I just tried a bit harder I’d really love social gatherings and engaging in hours of directionless conversation.  I'm tired of being tired...


Simply put introverts are drained by socialization...it takes a lot out of me when I do it.  The world in which we live seems to reward and praise the extrovert, even if it borders on what I, an introvert, would consider manic!  And people think I’M crazy!


Honestly, large social gatherings aren’t particularly fun for me, albeit with friends, family or strangers. I am not missing out on anything. I don’t miss it because I don’t want it. This is how introverts feel about social situations. If I wanted to hang out with a dozen people at once, engage in mindless chit-chat for hours, believe me I would.  Even my husband’s family, which is extremely large, doesn’t get me, and I’ve been involved with them for 20 years! 


This is not to say I am not social. It’s just that I take socialization in little pieces and prefer to be more situationally sensitive. I excel at one-to-one interaction.  Any client of mine will tell you that.  Give me a laboring woman and…HELLO…I come alive!  I prefer solo activities which engage my mind. This doesn’t mean I never hang out or participate in large groups; it’s just that unlike an extrovert, I don’t need to. And that’s an important distinction.


So don’t be confused or misunderstand my behavior. I have a very vast, rich and full life. I have a wonderful family.  I’m into birth, babies, families, running a doula business and interacting with wonderful, thoughtful people. I do go out to great restaurants, see fabulous concerts and shows, and enjoy hanging out with my family and a few close friends.  I read.  I think.  I spend hours listening; it’s amazing what you hear on the wind and what floats back when you keep your mouth shut.  Sometimes the things I hear about myself hurt…devastatingly so.


So I’ve put together a list for dealing with me. These are general tendencies and patterns. I don’t care if you follow them; I just want you to understand them and therefore; me...


1. Don’t put me on the spot and expect me to perform.


This one is mainly for other adults. I can be somewhat awkward in social situations, so don’t misinterpret my behavior as a deficiency in hearing, sight or language processing.  I’m not an idiot and I’m not being a bitch. When you ask a question there may be a delay in my response and I could talk in a soft monotone, avoiding eye contact. When I’m comfortable with my surroundings I’m extremely verbal and my tone is very expressive.  I have a photographic memory but I need quiet to activate it.


2. Don’t throw me into complex social situations and expect anything but silence and withdrawal. At least at first.


To an introvert this is a no brainer. To an extroverted world an introvert‘s natural response to social stress can be misinterpreted as aloofness or arrogance. It is neither. I simply feel uncomfortable and overwhelmed. I eventually warm up, let me.


3. I need time to get used to you. Don’t take it personally if I don’t immediately engage you because you said hi.


Introverts need time to warm up to someone. Once they let you in, they can be quite talkative and physically demonstrative. Until then though, don’t expect much. I am not being rude and it has nothing to do with how I feel about you personally.  Be patient.  I’ll eventually talk your ear off.


4. I recharge my batteries by being alone. Don’t take offense if I leave and go off by myself for a while.


I have been known to disappear at family functions, conferences or even workshops during sessions, lunch, coffee breaks or when I feel overwhelmed.  I am not being anti-social.  I process information internally. I need to look inward to find my center and make sense of new information or an unfamiliar situation. An extrovert looks externally to accomplish the same thing. It’s really not a big deal...I always come back!


Introverts are like layers in an onion. You just have to be patient. Some onions are just harder to peel than others.  And I have many, many layers.  You'd be surprised at what you find when you start to shed them...

Whew!

Well, can you believe it's March already? I certainly can't and the weather isn't co-operating either! It's only the 7th and I have attended 4 babies since the first. Last week was very difficult for me as well, more so because one of my April mommies lost her baby. Stillbirths are brutual, my heart breaks for my clients whom were so looking forward to bringing this baby home. I still haven't really processed what I need to, the activity of the other births have kept me somewhat sane and for that I'm glad...

On a lighter note...Monica is now officially certified through DONA International. I couldn't be prouder of her! She is definitely on her way! Chantelle also completed her birth doula training, although was very disappointed that 2 of the births she was scheduled to attend with me as a mentor delivered on the weekend she was away - on the SAME day, within hours of each other. I'll have to find more for her, which shouldn't be too much of a problem.

I've got two more birth to go for March, then hopefully I'll get a bit of a break as I only have 2 scheduled for April now. I need to paint my basement anyways! Busy, busy, busy!

Well, I should be off to bed, even though most people are waking up! Attended a very speedy delivery tonight and I couldn't be prouder of my mom and dad. They were AWESOME!

New Year?

Well it's already February and I've had a heck of few months since I last signed in. Currently I am waiting on 3 moms-to-be to deliver, all of them are overdue. I'm stressed, tired and a little worried about getting deliveres stacked one on top of the other...but if it happens I will survive. I've done it before and I'll do it again if it happens!

Did the morning show with Kim & Grant for MY 96 FM in December 2008 and it turned out to be quite fun, even though I was exhausted as I had been up all night at a delivery. Only stuck my foot in my mouth noticably on the one occasion...Monica has since forgiven me for it!

Speaking of Monica, she my new partner and just waiting for certification from DONA that she is certified. I had her running pretty good in December - 3 births in 5 days for her and 5 births in 9 days for me. At least I got to spend Christmas with my family!

I also brought on another partner in January 2009. Chantelle will be bringing in the postpartum doula end of things into Medicine Hat. At the end of the month she will attend her birth doula training, so hopefully I can get her certified by mid-April. Special Deliveries Doula Services is growing - feels like I'm a new parent all over again.

This year has been shaping up to be busier for me than last year. While I'm thrilled that more and more women are using doula services, I'm a little scared that I'll be as crazy as I was last year! Monica is proving to be very efficient at getting her own clientelle, so having her for back-up may not be what I thought it would be! But I'm thrilled to bits for her - she's such a card! Hopefully Chantelle can pick up the pieces, if not I may have to bring Sara out of maternity leave, if just for a few births.

Also finished playing with my website: http://www.medicinehatdoula.com/, added everybody and everything I was missing before - go and take a look!

I thrive on the chaos of it all though!

Today...I'm popular...

Wow...you know some days are like that, you wake up to a ringing phone and it doesn't stop ringing for hours. Good news though...one of my clients is in early labor, a couple days ahead of her due date...Kim Johnston from My 96 FM wants to conduct an on air interview about doulas next week, actually he wanted to do it tomorrow but I'm totally unsure what my client will be doing then...booked 3 more new clients for meet and greet appointments and booked one for my partner Monica as well...she's thrilled 'cuz it's twins! Hopefully I'll make my appointment tonight with exisiting clients, our last one before her due date in 2 weeks. Will soon head off to an appointment this afternoon. Nothing like cramming in 7 prenatal appointments in 4 days! Gotta love Christmas! It reeks havoc on my scheduling!

On the home front, I'm drowning in paperwork from my other job...seriously I need to get on with it before I lose my desk to reports. I'm sorta finished shopping for Christmas, nothing is wrapped yet..maybe I'll just haul the lot down and get it professionally wrapped! Christmas letters to family and friends will again not get done this year (3rd year running) as I cannot seem to find the time to do much of anything else!

Oh well...just another day in the life as a doula, a mother, a professional and a woman...