Being able to successfully complete a marathon takes planning. Ask any veteran runner and they will admit that they did not just wake up one day and run a 26.2 mile marathon.

Imagine that they did just that - woke up one fine, sunny day, felt a burst of energy and said, "I think I'll try to run a marathon today." Since they had no previous running experience, they went out and bought an expensive pair of running shoes. They arrived at the starting line just in time to pay the entry fee and pin their number to their shirt. The other runners were doing some leg stretches and running in place, so our novice runner did as well.

The starting gun sounded and our friend was off. The first few strides felt clumsy, but she kept at it. After all, she was in good shape and had been very athletic as a child. How hard could it be?

A mile or so in, she began to doubt herself. She gave herself a mental pep talk and pressed on. "I can do it. Look at all these other people doing it. I got this."

Another mile down the road, there was a water stand. Tired, out of breath, and thirsty, she slowed down and drank several cups of water, then jogged on. "That should help."

A few more miles along, her plan had all but unraveled. Her new shoes had put blisters on her feet, the clothes that she had worn were hot and constricting, and the water that she had downed had since come back up. She was out of breath, her body screaming in agony. "That's it. I quit. I said I would try and I tried. I'm just not cut out to run a marathon. It's just not my thing."

Now imagine a different woman. This woman decides that she wants to run a marathon, so she sets out planning, preparing. She studies the routes, researches good shoes and clothes, and begins to prepare her body. She talks to experts who share the best stretches and foods. She increases her running distances daily, and continues to prepare both mentally and physically.

The day of the marathon comes. She knows it will be hard, that it will test both her mental and physical strength tremendously, but she is ready. The race is difficult, the road is long. Her thoughts drift and voices of doubt creep in, but she is able to push them away. Finishing strong, she looks back with pride at her journey. It serves as a source of empowerment to her for all her days.

Childbirth is the same as a marathon. It is difficult. It requires both physical and mental strength. It can be long and tiring. It can be uncomfortable and overwhelming.

For women planning an unmedicated birth, the difference between 'trying' and 'planning' cannot be underestimated.

Planning for birth requires time and perseverance. Your body must be prepared and strong. Planning for a natural birth needs to be tailored to your own family and your desires for your birth. The more you 'plan' for your natural birth, the better the chances are that you will accomplish your goals. Mentally, the more planning and preparation you do, the more you will begin to lose the fear of the unknown.

I believe, where there is no fear in childbirth, there is true joy, and peace, and beauty - an empowering memory for all of one's days.

When I was pregnant with my first child, I read everything that I could get my hands on. I searched tirelessly for insight into what the labor process would be. I asked anyone, everyone, what I could do to prepare. People were filled with horror stories and all-knowing looks, tons of one-line advice and old adages. Yet still, I felt so unprepared for the changes that pregnancy brought, and even more unprepared (and scared) of what labor would bring.

When labor started, we were giddy with excitement. We headed to the hospital full of confidence and ended up being swept along in a sea of medical interventions. Although we had prepared well, we had no idea of the hospital's policies and how to navigate our way through them.

We ended up having a beautiful, tiny baby boy, but unfortunately, our confidence had taken a hit. Our plans had gone awry and I was left with a nagging, empty feeling that birth just wasn't supposed to be like ours had been. That somehow, I had missed out on something.

I struggled with breast feeding, sleep deprivation, and this little human cried so much! My husband returned to work a week later and I sat and cried right along with my baby.

A lot.

I felt so inadequate to change his diapers. It took so long for me to get a fresh diaper on, especially with the baby's little legs kicking in time to his screaming.

I had no time to eat, no time to clean, no time to even go to the bathroom! If I put the baby down, he woke up and cried. The only thing I could do was hold him.

So that's what I did.

Looking back on that time, the thing that stands out to me the most is how alone I was. My husband was comforting and encouraging, yet even after all of my searching, reading, and classes during pregnancy, I lacked one very important thing.

Loving, experienced support.

I did not want, nor need, someone to come and 'rescue' me. I just needed a gentle, reassuring voice. A voice that would be stronger than the doubts in my head. A touch that would affirm me as a mother, that would confirm to me that I knew so much more than I thought I did. An ear that would listen to my fears and help me sort out my feelings. An experienced hand holding mine, teaching and empowering while walking the journey with me.

That is why I do what I do. I assist, educate, empower. I laugh, I cry, I dream. I walk with women and their families through their pregnancy, into and all the way through labor and birth, and through those first few weeks.

I am a doula.