Birth through the lens of time

I stopped by a local office recently to drop off some brochures a former client had requested. The receptionist looked at my materials a little skeptically, and asked if doulas were like midwives. I explained how doulas offer non-medical physical and emotional support, and how we help make birth better not only by offering our expertise but also by nurturing the family. "You," she said, suddenly excited. "You are doing something so important!"

The woman proceeded to tell me the birth story of her second baby, 37 years ago. It was a difficult birth and a challenging transition for the baby afterward. Throughout the birth and in the days that followed, she felt disrespected, dismissed, powerless and alone. "Nobody would be honest with me, nobody really heard me," this mother told me. She went on to share some pretty clear symptoms of post-traumatic stress, which she experienced throughout her baby's first year. And then she shared that when it came time to think about a third child, she completely shut out the thought. She wanted another baby, but how could she risk going through that again?

As she told me her story there in the lobby, her eyes welled up with tears. Mine did too. I heard her voice shaking and I consciously let go of the groceries in the hot car and my long to-do list, just trying my best to hold that space for her. I wanted to hold the space that no one had been there to hold for her as a tender new mother.  "That must have been so hard," I affirmed. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, it sounds like you were really strong in that moment," I said. "Thank you for sharing your story. You are not alone."

I had my 7- and 9-year-old boys with me that day. They're usually tugging at my sleeves to encourage me to move along on these errands, but as soon as this woman began her passionate tale, they were riveted too. They sat quietly, watching and listening. Even they could feel the power of her story, told almost four decades after the fact. I think they already have a sense that women's birth stories are our epic tales – for better or for worse.

This powerful encounter left me thinking about Penny Simkin's groundbreaking research on birth memories. In the early 1990s, Penny contacted former students from her childbirth class who had completed labor and birth questionnaires after their births 15-20 years earlier. She asked these women to fill out another questionnaire and also interviewed them about their birth experiences. In connecting with these women, Penny found they retained powerful, accurate memories of their births. Many of the women wept while retelling their birth stories, either from joy or sorrow. In identifying these women as either satisfied or unsatisfied, Penny noted that their reflections of their birth didn't have so much to do with how quickly their births went, or even whether or not they experienced a lot of interventions or complications. Instead, women were most affected by whether they had felt powerful or powerless. Were they treated with kindness and respect or callousness and disregard? The women in Penny's study remembered how people treated them during their birth and how they were made to feel. Yes. The woman's story I heard that day echoed all of these themes.

I so wish the woman I spoke with would have the support she needed during her difficult journey. I wish I could have doula'd her through those intense and difficult moments, instead of just trying to share a bit of compassion now, so many years after the fact. I can't change her journey, but I will use it to remind myself in difficult moments that the work of a doula matters. Nurturing the mother matters not just in the moments surrounding birth, but potentially for an entire lifetime.

As I got ready to leave, I felt so blessed that this woman had trusted me with her story. But she wasn't done. As we said goodbye, she turned to my kids. "I love little boys!" she told them, her eyes lighting up. "You two remember, when you mommy is away from you, she is doing something really important. These mommies need her, just like you do. She makes a big difference." My boys (and the children of doulas everywhere) really do make sacrifices of their own to support families and birth. I'm still thinking about their wide eyes as they took this in from the person who had just told such a dramatic story.

Birth matters. Doulas make a difference. We must not be disheartened by challenges. Keep on! Thank you, beautiful sage. You gifts have touched my heart.

 
Jessica English is a DONA-certified birth doula and Lamaze-certified childbirth educator. She is owner of Birth Kalamazoo, a Midwest agency that offers birth and postpartum doula services, natural birth and breastfeeding classes, in-home lactation consults and a renewal circle for mothers. As a DONA-approved birth doula trainer, Jessica mentors (and learns from!) new doulas entering this amazing work.