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.
