Every so often I get a bug to become a better-paid birth professional. Doulas are just not the top earners in the birth field, sad to say.
And part of me is a real midwifery geek. I know I would love learning to become an obstetrician or a midwife or a labor and delivery nurse. I love learning about blood vessels leading to the placenta, about how to guide a breech baby out, about how to diagnose an ectopic pregnancy. Really. GEEK is the only word for the thrill I get from reading about such topics.
But when I am at a birth (as I was a few days ago) I have this fabulous role. This birth brought it home. Everyone else in the room at this hospital VBAC birth was focused on getting a recalcitrant baby out of a woman’s body as fast as possible: cutting her vagina open, attaching vacuum suction cups to the baby’s head, and adjusting various accoutrements to keep track of the baby’s heart rate (which was low and not coming up in between contractions… thus the drama and concern).
In contrast to the midwife, the L&D nurse, the obstetrician, the resident, and the neonatal team, my job was to remain full of trust in birth. My job was to help the mother stay connected to her calmest, most trusting place inside herself. I was allowed to smile and tell the mother that we could all see dark, curly hair as her baby’s head crowned. Everyone else was 100% focused on getting this baby’s head OUT. Fast. The mother and I were able to concentrate on this baby’s individuality. (Her previous babies had blonde hair.)
When the baby was born, the neonatal team whisked him away because of the heavy meconium. (Yet he was FINE immediately. At one minute he had an Apgar of 8. So much for all the panic!) No one but me noticed that the mother was panicked without being able to see or or hear or touch her baby.Of course, after all that drama when she didn’t hear a cry right away, she was afraid her baby was not OK. I was able to stand in the middle of the room and relay news about how her baby was waving his arms and legs and his skin was a beautiful, healthy pink color. All the birth professionals were busy, with important jobs for which they went to school for many years and for which they get paid fair salaries.
But would I rather learn how to measure a cervix or help a mother find her inner power? I am so, so glad that there are birth professionals out there who answer, “I want to measure the cervix.” Without these professionals, birth would not be as safe as it is today. Yet I am happy when I remember that my greatest joy is not measuring blood pressure or fetal heart tones, it is in aiding a woman have the experience that makes her feel like she is a powerful, amazing mother who can do anything. This is a feeling she gets to keep for the rest of her life.
Helping women smile when they remember giving birth. That is a doula’s job.