The last year and a half of my professional life has been an incredible exploration of childbirth, service, and our capacity to create space for others as human beings. Through this exploration, I have made several important discoveries, but the one that I ponder most often is the truth that there is no wrong way to birth a baby. These are words that I find myself repeating in the delivery room, often to clients who have chosen a new path for childbirth that differs from the one that was put down on paper.
I first heard these words while supporting a client in labor. She had become overwhelmed by the intensity of her contractions and was no longer feeling able to cope in a way that felt joyful, purposeful, and right for her. While we were using the “BRAIN” decision making strategy to help her weigh her options in labor, her midwife, a wise and steady presence in the room, spoke these words out loud. “There is no wrong way to birth your baby.” As my client’s stress and discomfort became visibly eased by the words, I felt such immense gratitude for the compassion and simple reality that those words held and for the midwife who spoke them. In this moment, there was no mention of the epidural that was being ordered, or the great challenge of birthing a child, or even the change in course that was occurring. It was just a basic and real statement that seemed to effortlessly supercede the societal pressure to have an unmedicated birth, the invisible trophy that awaits only those strong enough to endure childbirth without pain medication, the presumed failure when comparing one’s birth experience to the “#warriormamas” that inhabit the digital spaces of social media. This was her birth story and it could never be wrong.
In the months since that particular birth, I have listened closely to various sentiments around this phenomenon that one could possibly achieve childbirth the right way, the ideal way. Many of my clients have shared that while they’d love to be able to “do it naturally”, they are not opposed to the use of pain medication if the circumstances call for it. Some do not even entertain the idea of meds, while others plan to have an epidural as soon as things become uncomfortable. This has been such an interesting part of my work as a doula – witnessing the various degrees to which external messaging can determine the way women might grade their experience of childbirth, and by doing so, they seem to grade themselves. It is certain to me that our overexposure to the lives and experiences of others via social media channels has profoundly influenced the way we set expectations of ourselves and therefore evaluate our performance – in all things really, but of particular interest to me, in childbirth.
I spend a lot of time thinking about my role as a doula to my clients and how I can make space for this reality of external influence on their experiences while also creating space for each of them to write their own story, one that’s unique to the intricacies of who they are. When I witness a woman in labor, I get to see things that feel real, raw, and powerful. I see the vulnerability that lives in the space of being naked and in pain in front of others, strangers and loved ones alike. I see women in the trenches of their own power. A place that will leave them forever transformed. I see couples in the depths of their togetherness, and families at the beginning of their transformation. Never do I see anything that even resembles the idea of “wrong”. Wonderfully, once their babies arrive and they are holding their fresh tiny bodies and inhaling their sweet newness, they all seem to discover that nothing could be more right. I’m pretty certain that this moment has the power to erase all of the criteria previously believed to dictate how it all went. Once they finally hold their babies in their arms, the understanding that this beautiful little person arrived just the way they were meant to begins to sink in. I am hopeful that in my work as a doula, I am able to give my clients a glimpse of that profound moment. To help them understand that the “how” is not the metric we are using. Rather the “what” and the “who”.
Labor support includes so many different aspects, from the hours of counter pressure to the humor used to lift the mood in the room a bit. From the constant eye contact that says, “I’m here and I am not going anywhere” to the spoonfuls of ice chips. For me though, all of these things come second in importance to my ability to convey that a woman’s self worth is not encased in her ability to give birth in any way other than what feels right to her. If I am able to create a space where all birth is beautiful, then I feel like I will have succeeded.
