A Day in the Life of a Doula

This is a story about three women: two doulas and a laboring mother.

The mother's labor started in textbook fashion at 39 weeks, twelve hours after she had some light bloody show. She spent the day alone, enjoying herself and feeling crampy contractions every ten minutes. When Doula "A" finished work she slowly headed to the woman's home where they had tea and "chilled". Her contractions were becoming slightly more intense but our client was still chatting, making tea, and having a good time.

The textbook went a bit sideways at this point, when our lady decided to have a nap. As she lay down on her side, her waters broke and she felt the urge to push. Doula "B" happened to arrive at that moment and they quickly got into the car and drove to the hospital.

When they arrived at the hospital, they were of course whisked through to a room, and our lady was undressed and invited to get onto the bed. She did so, and continued to push. At this point, the resident tried to find the heart beat for the first time and was unable to. The baby crowned, the resident performed an episiotomy, and a very healthy baby was born.

The medical staff were very angry with the doulas for "letting" our client stay at home for too long. The new mother asked why she had been cut, and was told that the physician was concerned about the heart beat.

She was discharged the next day.

One of the doulas said afterwards:"That would have been a seamless homebirth." Yes.

My question is, what is your take on this?

Should she have come in when her labor started?

Should her doulas have done a vaginal exam? (A rhetorical questions, really, as they are not trained nor allowed to do so).

If she didn't have the support of a doula, then she would probably have come in earlier (here I am trying to convince myself that our services are unnecessary).

Thank you for your time, and appreciating in advance your comments,

Rivka

Montreal Birth Companions

Right now, a lady who dearly wants to have a natural birth is in labor. She found out about Montreal Birth Companions from a little workshop she attended, and she contacted us with a request for a volunteer doula. She is single, living alone, and doesn't have the means to pay for a private doula - they can run to over $1000 here in Montreal. Of course, many people can afford them because they have private health insurance, and many doulas are now able to provide insurance receipts, which makes it a lot cheaper for the average working couple.

But MBC gets requests from women and families who cannot afford very much at all, and so our dedicated doulas donate their time and energy to accompanying these women on their childbirth journey. Sometimes we are approached by women who can afford a small stipend, but usually we are called by other agencies who have clients who need companions.

Over the years, MBC doulas have accompanied women from the four round corners of the earth: from the continent of Africa, from India and south-east Asia, China, Eastern and Western Europe, Central and South America, and of course from Canada. Our clients speak many different languages, as do the doulas. Many of our clients over the years have not spoken either of the official languages of Quebec (French and English, in case you were wondering...). Many of these women are single, many have recently arrived in Canada, some have left their other children behind.

Today's champion started early labor yesterday. She has been happy at home on her own until this morning, when her contractions started to become more intense. One MBC doula went to her place after she finished work; another is on the way when her work day is finished. They will probably be heading to the hospital soon.

Eight years ago, when our doulas first started volunteering, I was mentoring two exceptional women who were at one of their first birth experiences. This was with a lovely woman from the Indian subcontinent, who was unsure about when to go to the hospital. Although the doulas had been through a very comprehensive training (Holistic Perinatal Associates which, sadly, is no more - it was created by myself and Lesley Everest, of Motherwit fame), they couldn't figure out what exactly was going on, so they made several trips to the hospital in the middle of the night. Each time, they phoned me to ask my advice, and several other times too. So finally at around four am, they called me to say they were off to the hospital. I was lying in bed, and my feet happened to be pointing in the direction of the hospital they were going to. So I sleepily said "I'll point my toes for you.", which meant, of course, the equivalent of crossing my fingers, kissing my amulet, or praying for a good birth. The lady did go on to have a wonderful, natural birth, accompanied by her stout-hearted and exhausted doulas. Since then, "pointing your toes" has become a common saying in the Montreal doula community.

Some of our volunteers relaxing in the hospital!

So, everyone, "point your toes" for the lady in labor, wish her all the best, and let's hear a cheer for her wonderful doulas!!!

Birth Day

I posted a picture on Facebook the other day. The young man is my son’s good friend, and he is visiting us up on the mountain. His mother posted a comment about remembering when he was a baby – as we mothers do. I love watching my sons grow into men, and marvel at the fact that, for me, they retain that quality they always had, that I loved when they were babies and young children, and still love now.

One of my sons turned twenty-five this summer. I remember when I was in labor. We were living in a beautiful farmhouse in Tuscany that belonged to a famous yoga master (I only knew her as my landlord back then, not being initiated into the realms of yoga and the like). I labored and labored, and I remember the farmhand and his wife coming to visit, dressed in their Sunday best. The day before, I had watched him picking apricots in the field below. Their daughter had started labor at the same time as me, had delivered, and was cuddling her baby in bed, so they thought I would have a baby to show off as well. We told them we would let them know when the baby was finally born, which he was in due course.

When I got home with my newborn, the landlady’s daughter came to visit, bearing a huge bunch of blue cornflowers. I can never see cornflowers growing, or apricots being picked, without thinking of those few days of labor and birth. I remember the taste of the rice ice cream I ate while I was laboring.

Apricots, ice cream, flowers, babies, love ... summertime!