Redemption

My first "official" doula experience wasn't a great one. I didn't really go into it at the time, but I left that birth feeling useless, sad and truly questioning whether I had helped them at all by being there.

It's no wonder — the poor woman had every intervention except forceps and a c-section and there were several times during the birth where I ignored my gut instinct and allowed the situation to unravel unimpeded by me. Sure, there are always things we'd change in hindsight and who knows if anything I would have done would have changed anything, but ultimately I didn't think I helped. At all.

It was nice then, a few weeks back when I posted some article (on FB) about doula's attending births that my doula client commented that she believed she would have ended up with a c-section had I not been there.

That's something isn't it? Yes, well.

Then last month I attended the polar opposite birth. I went with my instincts, did what I thought I should and rarely questioned what I should do. The birth wasn't just totally different — my experience was, too. I walked away light as a feather, feeling fulfilled and useful and inspired.

I spoke with my midwife about this just last week. She was a doula first as well and had an even worse first doula experience, one where she cried for days after (same sort of story only it was a forceps delivery). Still, she went on to become a midwife. She was also honest in saying that, even now, there are times when women end up with c-sections or forceps that she feels she failed in some way and wished she could go back and do things differently.

This week I got an email from my January doula client. She wanted to know if I had any births lined up for April...because if I didn't she wanted to ask if I'd be there to help them welcome baby number two, who, very surprisingly, was on the way.

After my initial surprise and laugh, I couldn't help but feel somewhat vindicated, that I had helped enough, I guess, that she wanted me there again. But more than that, I feel like this time, this time I can follow my instincts and well and truly be there for them. I know I can't control how a birth happens, but I feel so much more confident now in at least being as helpful as I can when it does.

(Also, it bodes well, I think, that in just over a year into my two-year certification journey that I have a repeat client. Don't you?)

First birth

I've attended a birth before, but never as an official doula, with training, for someone who is essentially a stranger and all the while trying to balance busy work, life and toddler rearing.

Lucky for me, my client's baby decided to be very good and arrive a day early, on the weekend, days before life was about to get so complicated that I wouldn't have been able to be there for them for three days straight.

The birth was both amazing and difficult. The nurses were mostly wonderful and only one or two truly awful (why do some people go into labour and delivery when they really have no interest or knack for it? I mean, really.) I feel very lucky to have been their doula and got more than a little weepy when the wee man finally made his appearance. It's funny, that really without even knowing a baby or his family doesn't really change how emotional you feel about meeting a new person. I don't know how L&D nurses and docs stay dry-eyed all day. Maybe they don't.

I learned a few things, made a few mistakes and did a few things very right.

But the biggest lesson I learned was that being a doula in anything other than a very temporary capacity right now is not going to work. That makes me sad. But one of the least favorite things about me is my over-promise and under-deliver tendency when it comes to people. As someone's doula, the golden rule is that you get to and stay with a labouring woman from the time she needs you until she delivers. With full time work that, at times, requires me to leave town, a hubby who is supportive but also travels often and a toddler that needs watching (and no family or close friends to help) and well, there just isn't enough flexibility in my life to account for attending labours.

Sad? Yes. But there will come a time that I will be able to do this, and this first birth showed me that yes I can do it and would want to do it in the right situation.

For now, though, we wait.

Thanks, Ina May

As part of the process in getting my doula certification, I have to read five books (from a list of oh, 30) and sign a paper saying I've done so. An avid (rabid?) reader, I'd already read a few of them and managed at least two more in preparation for my workshop. I'm on to the final "required" read and still have several on request at the library. Like I said, rabid reader over here.

I'm in the middle of Ina May Gaskin's Guide to Childbirth, a fantastic read, especially for women who have never given birth. The book begins with pages and pages of positive birth stories - real life, some complicated, some too good to sound true, some gritty but all real and positive. No horror stories here. It's refreshing and invigorating to read and we all need to hear more of the good stuff, because most of the time, that's what happens.

But I'm off track. This was supposed to be a training report. Right.

What I found most fascinating in Ina May's book is not that there is a big-time commune holed up in Tennessee pushing out amazing birth outcomes (a less than 2% c-section rate is unheard of ANYWHERE), it's that she documents the power of the mind in labour. She can attest first, ahem, hand, at women actually regressing in dilation when they felt threatened (by a rough internal exam at hospital) or when they had something mentally holding them back. She talks about how simply saying a positive mantra (whether you first mean it or not) can have an amazing impact on how your body reacts and works in labour.

Which got me thinking about training. My 9 mile run last week was a piss off and a disappointment and had me seriously considering dropping the Flatlanders half. But upon reading this book, and reading how real women were able to zip through labours by chanting "I can too open to 10 cm" or actually close down 2 cm because of fear, I knew that I too could do 10 GOOD miles if I told myself I could.

I started out taking my own, Jen P's and P Bear's advice and didn't drink or eat crap for the days leading up to my run. I stayed hydrated and, most importantly, mentally prepared for a good 10 miles. I mapped a much more enjoyable route, had a decent sleep and got out the door only an hour later than I had hoped (and still in the morning).

At mile 6, I did actually say out loud, I can too run 10 miles. At mile 7.5, I was tired and my legs were tired, but I felt heaps better than the same point last week. I took at gel at 54 minutes and then at 1 hr 22 min. That was a good idea. By 1 hr 35 minutes I was tired, my knees hurt and I was slowing down, but I was also very close to home. I decided that I wasn't going to stop at my designated end point (that would have been just shy of 10 miles), instead I was going to run to 1 hr 50 min and just see where that got me. I ended up adding way more than I thought I could and felt positively GOOD at 1 hr 45 min. I turned the last stretch of road for home (an incline!) and stopped the watch at 1 hr 49 min 41 seconds...and ended up with 10.28 miles in the can. Uh yeah, that's over 20 seconds faster per mile than last week, 1.3 miles further and I felt 100% better. The knees were a bit sore, my hams and quads very tired yesterday, so I've got work to do over the next three weeks, but kids, I TOO CAN RUN 13.1 MILES.

Thanks, Ina May.