"Doula" is Greek for "woman's servant." The term today has been adopted and changed a bit to mean someone who helps women in labor. She provides emotional support (caring words, encouragement), physical support (massage, gentle touch), and mental support (education) before and throughout labor and birth. She is well-educated about birth, natural pain-relief and comfort techniques, and how to make the laboring woman feel strong and in control of her body. Her calming presence during labor allows the parents to relax, knowing they have a caring friend who will not leave their side, and someone who will advocate for them throughout this new and often-times overwhelming event. She does not perform any medical tasks; her sole purpose is to be there for mom (and dad), and to make their birth experience as smooth and worry-free as possible.
When I was pregnant, I had a general idea about what a doula was, but I didn't feel like I needed one. None of our friends had had one, and I felt like Greg and I could do it on our own. Which we did, and it was amazing (see my birth story). BUT, looking back, I realize it could have been a lot better if we would have had that extra support-person. Greg was really busy while I was in labor, packing our bags, calling people to let them know this was the day, and dealing with hospital staff/procedures. Not to mention he was super nervous and--dare I say it--a little bit scared. I feel like it would have been a lot less hectic had a doula been there working with Greg to make sure everything got done and that I was being taken care of continuously (I spent a lot of time laboring by myself). Also, since we were only at the hospital for a few hours before Lucy's birth, we had the same nurse with us the whole time. Most of my friends, though, have spent many, many hours at the hospital and have had several different nurses who left them alone in the room so she could take care of other patients. One benefit of the doula is that she is always there, by mom's side.
There are also many very real, tangible, and actually quite astounding statistical benefits to having a doula. Studies have shown that doula supported women have:
Overall, a 25% decrease in the length of labor
50 % decrease in cesarean births
60 % decrease in epidurals
40 % decrease in the use of pitocin
30% decrease in the use of narcotics
30% decrease in the use of forceps*
Can you believe it?! I think that is just plain amazing.
Long-term, mothers with doulas breastfeed longer and with fewer problems, are less likely to suffer from post-partum depression, and in general have better feelings about themselves, their birth experience, and their new family. AND, their babies are more likely to have a greater appetite and fewer health problems at six weeks than their non-doula counterparts.**
*Mothering the Mother, How a Doula Can Help You Have a Shorter, Easier and Healthier Birth by Marshall H. Klaus, John H. Kennell, Phyllis H. Klaus
**The Doula Book by Marshall H. Klaus, John H. Kennell, Phyllis H. Klaus
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Becoming-a-Doula Journey: Part I
I don't think I've ever been more excited about much in my life than I am about becoming a doula (besides getting married, having a baby--you know, the biggies). My experience with pregnancy, labor, and birth was just so incredibly positive, and I love sending those "good vibes" out to other expecting mothers.
During pregnancy, whenever I got together with a group of women, the conversation would inevitably turn to birth stories, most of which were scary and un-encouraging. I remember one woman saying, "The pain was so bad, I thought I was going to die... and if I didn't die, I was sure I would go crazy and end up in a mental institution!" At eight months pregnant, that was definitely not what I wanted or needed to hear. So it has been my mission, since the birth of my baby girl, to combat all those negative, fear-inducing horror-stories with one of hope, beauty, and joy.
After I had Lucy, I was unable to stop thinking about what an incredible experience the whole process was. When she was about 6 months old, I abruptly came to the realization that I should become a doula! My husband, Greg, was also very excited about the idea. So I did some research and decided to pursue certification through DONA (Doulas of North America). Check it out: http://www.dona.org/.
On July 31-August 1 of 2009, as a part of my certification, I attended a weekend-long conference in Chicago. It was amazing. I learned a TON, and it was SO refreshing to spend a weekend with other like-minded women! I am now officially trained and ready move forward with the rest of my certification.
Another requirement is attending three births. My good friend, Chrissy, is pregnant (YAY!) and due in March, and I'll be serving as her doula for the birth of their baby. What a privilege! I get all choked up just thinking about it :). I am still looking for two other mamas who don't mind a somewhat inexperienced doula serving them. Of course, I won't charge for these first three births.
I am so hopeful and encouraged as I continue this process. I am thoughoughly enjoying every step--the reading, the training and community classes, and especially the networking and connecting with other pro-women professionals and friends.
During pregnancy, whenever I got together with a group of women, the conversation would inevitably turn to birth stories, most of which were scary and un-encouraging. I remember one woman saying, "The pain was so bad, I thought I was going to die... and if I didn't die, I was sure I would go crazy and end up in a mental institution!" At eight months pregnant, that was definitely not what I wanted or needed to hear. So it has been my mission, since the birth of my baby girl, to combat all those negative, fear-inducing horror-stories with one of hope, beauty, and joy.
After I had Lucy, I was unable to stop thinking about what an incredible experience the whole process was. When she was about 6 months old, I abruptly came to the realization that I should become a doula! My husband, Greg, was also very excited about the idea. So I did some research and decided to pursue certification through DONA (Doulas of North America). Check it out: http://www.dona.org/.
On July 31-August 1 of 2009, as a part of my certification, I attended a weekend-long conference in Chicago. It was amazing. I learned a TON, and it was SO refreshing to spend a weekend with other like-minded women! I am now officially trained and ready move forward with the rest of my certification.
Another requirement is attending three births. My good friend, Chrissy, is pregnant (YAY!) and due in March, and I'll be serving as her doula for the birth of their baby. What a privilege! I get all choked up just thinking about it :). I am still looking for two other mamas who don't mind a somewhat inexperienced doula serving them. Of course, I won't charge for these first three births.
I am so hopeful and encouraged as I continue this process. I am thoughoughly enjoying every step--the reading, the training and community classes, and especially the networking and connecting with other pro-women professionals and friends.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
My Birth Story
I thought it would be a good idea to start off my blog with my own personal birth story, since this was the main event that prompted me to become a doula.
About half-way through my pregnancy, as I was contemplating how I would get my baby out when the time came, this thought quite literally popped right into my head: God made my body to give birth. I thought, women have been doing this since creation, why shouldn't I be able to do it, too? And as I looked at other moms I know, I thought that, despite their insanely crazy birth-horror-stories (more on this later), they had come out on the other side of the maternity hospital ward alive, intact, and living life just fine. This made me think that it couldn't possibly be as bad as they said it was.
So I decided that I wanted to have a "natural" birth--as free from drugs and other medical interventions as possible. Not to be a martyr or just to say that I did it, but to experience the whole process as God intended. The more I thought about it, the more I was able to find peace and confidence in the fact that God is my creator and loving Father. I was able to put my trust in his amazing design as my due date drew near.
At 2am on December 15, 2008, I woke up to go to the bathroom, as usual. Except this time I had a very intense urge to poo. So I did, the urge went away, and I went back to bed. A few minutes later, the "urge" came again, and I thought, "Oh, crap. This is labor." Since it was the middle of the night, I thought I'd try to let Greg continue his peaceful slumber so he'd have energy later to help me out as my labor progressed. But a few (intense!) contractions later, I decided to wake him up so I could tell him what to put in our hospital bags while I could still talk (we had actually planned on packing our bags that day).
It. was. crazy. Unlike most women, I didn't have an "easy" early labor, where I could get used to the feel of contractions. They hit me hard and strong, and I was overwhelmed. I remember at one point saying to Greg, "I don't know if I can do this... I might need an epidural." I think that scared him a little, but he continued to remain calm in my presence and coach me through my contractions. During pregnancy, we had read books on the Bradley Method, which really stresses relaxing through the contractions to manage the pain. It worked SOOOO well, and it didn't take me long to get into the rhythm of my labor. I labored in bed for a while, on the toilet for a little bit (my body decided to get rid of everything ahead of time, so it didn't happen on the birthing table--nice!), and sitting in the glider. We stayed at home for 7 hours before heading to the hospital, but it seemed like only 2. While we were at home, I was in such an intense "zone," drawing on all my inner strength, endurance, and self-discipline. It was actually kind of exhilarating and fun!
It was SO cold that morning, so Greg dropped me off at the entrance to the hospital and I had a couple of contractions on the bench just inside the door while he parked the car. Again I say: it. was. crazy. So intense. When Greg got inside, a nice man got a wheelchair and helped us up to the maternity ward. There were no rooms available when we got there, so they checked me in to triage. Despite the bright lights, loud noises, and many other distractions at the hospital, I managed to remain as relaxed as I could while they poked, prodded, and asked me questions. Our nurse was somewhat insensitive to the fact that I was in heavy labor, and was honestly being kind of a nuisance. But Greg, the gracious and amazing man that he is, responded very courteously to her, asked her name, and if she could refrain from asking me questions while I was contracting. She responded well, and softened up quite a bit.
Greg and I both tried hard to not get our hopes up when they "checked" me, after having heard many stories of women laboring for hours and only being a few centimeters dilated. But the moment of truth arrived--the nurse checked my cervix--I was 7 centimeters!!! I was SO encouraged, knowing that dilatation usually goes from 7-10 very quickly. Shortly after that, our Lamaze teacher, Beth, came in to encourage us along, and she told me I was doing very well. It was so good to hear that from someone who truly cared for us and was familiar with the birth process! (Looking back, I realize how helpful a doula would have been. That loving and calm voice of reassurance throughout my whole labor would have made my experience better than I could have imagined!)
I entered into the "transition" part of labor, which is when the pain is at its most intense, unbelievably strong contractions coming right on top of eachother, and started having an urge to push. The nurse said, "We had better get her into a room or she's going to have her baby in here!" The last thing I wanted to do was to move rooms, but we did it and I started pushing right away. The sensations of pushing were so unique, unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I was kind of scared to push because it hurt in such a new way, but I knew I needed to in order to get my baby out. So, with the help of Greg and a little coaching from our nurse, I did it. Lucy came squirming out to me at 12:01pm. The doctor put her right on my tummy while the nurse wiped her down. We bonded and breastfed, and my mom and sister came in to celebrate with flowers and OJ.
About half-way through my pregnancy, as I was contemplating how I would get my baby out when the time came, this thought quite literally popped right into my head: God made my body to give birth. I thought, women have been doing this since creation, why shouldn't I be able to do it, too? And as I looked at other moms I know, I thought that, despite their insanely crazy birth-horror-stories (more on this later), they had come out on the other side of the maternity hospital ward alive, intact, and living life just fine. This made me think that it couldn't possibly be as bad as they said it was.
So I decided that I wanted to have a "natural" birth--as free from drugs and other medical interventions as possible. Not to be a martyr or just to say that I did it, but to experience the whole process as God intended. The more I thought about it, the more I was able to find peace and confidence in the fact that God is my creator and loving Father. I was able to put my trust in his amazing design as my due date drew near.
At 2am on December 15, 2008, I woke up to go to the bathroom, as usual. Except this time I had a very intense urge to poo. So I did, the urge went away, and I went back to bed. A few minutes later, the "urge" came again, and I thought, "Oh, crap. This is labor." Since it was the middle of the night, I thought I'd try to let Greg continue his peaceful slumber so he'd have energy later to help me out as my labor progressed. But a few (intense!) contractions later, I decided to wake him up so I could tell him what to put in our hospital bags while I could still talk (we had actually planned on packing our bags that day).
It. was. crazy. Unlike most women, I didn't have an "easy" early labor, where I could get used to the feel of contractions. They hit me hard and strong, and I was overwhelmed. I remember at one point saying to Greg, "I don't know if I can do this... I might need an epidural." I think that scared him a little, but he continued to remain calm in my presence and coach me through my contractions. During pregnancy, we had read books on the Bradley Method, which really stresses relaxing through the contractions to manage the pain. It worked SOOOO well, and it didn't take me long to get into the rhythm of my labor. I labored in bed for a while, on the toilet for a little bit (my body decided to get rid of everything ahead of time, so it didn't happen on the birthing table--nice!), and sitting in the glider. We stayed at home for 7 hours before heading to the hospital, but it seemed like only 2. While we were at home, I was in such an intense "zone," drawing on all my inner strength, endurance, and self-discipline. It was actually kind of exhilarating and fun!
It was SO cold that morning, so Greg dropped me off at the entrance to the hospital and I had a couple of contractions on the bench just inside the door while he parked the car. Again I say: it. was. crazy. So intense. When Greg got inside, a nice man got a wheelchair and helped us up to the maternity ward. There were no rooms available when we got there, so they checked me in to triage. Despite the bright lights, loud noises, and many other distractions at the hospital, I managed to remain as relaxed as I could while they poked, prodded, and asked me questions. Our nurse was somewhat insensitive to the fact that I was in heavy labor, and was honestly being kind of a nuisance. But Greg, the gracious and amazing man that he is, responded very courteously to her, asked her name, and if she could refrain from asking me questions while I was contracting. She responded well, and softened up quite a bit.
Greg and I both tried hard to not get our hopes up when they "checked" me, after having heard many stories of women laboring for hours and only being a few centimeters dilated. But the moment of truth arrived--the nurse checked my cervix--I was 7 centimeters!!! I was SO encouraged, knowing that dilatation usually goes from 7-10 very quickly. Shortly after that, our Lamaze teacher, Beth, came in to encourage us along, and she told me I was doing very well. It was so good to hear that from someone who truly cared for us and was familiar with the birth process! (Looking back, I realize how helpful a doula would have been. That loving and calm voice of reassurance throughout my whole labor would have made my experience better than I could have imagined!)
I entered into the "transition" part of labor, which is when the pain is at its most intense, unbelievably strong contractions coming right on top of eachother, and started having an urge to push. The nurse said, "We had better get her into a room or she's going to have her baby in here!" The last thing I wanted to do was to move rooms, but we did it and I started pushing right away. The sensations of pushing were so unique, unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I was kind of scared to push because it hurt in such a new way, but I knew I needed to in order to get my baby out. So, with the help of Greg and a little coaching from our nurse, I did it. Lucy came squirming out to me at 12:01pm. The doctor put her right on my tummy while the nurse wiped her down. We bonded and breastfed, and my mom and sister came in to celebrate with flowers and OJ.
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