by MotherWit | Dec 18, 2009 | Uncategorized
I had a great meeting today at a hospital I spend a lot of time doing labour support at. I am SO blessed that one of my former holistic doula students is one of the nurse policy makers of obstetrics there. She is a homebirthing mama herself, and is mired in an environment that often makes her weep with frustration. She is stopped by her OB colleagues and asked, “you’re an intelligent, educated woman! Why would you take such risks by having your baby at home?!” Obviously, they’re not reading the literature! Today she told me the most challenging thing about being an OB nurse was that, having done her doula training, she thought she would be able to help a ton of women who wanted natural births. And then she realized that the vast majority of women coming in to birth at the hospital aren’t even remotely interested in birthing naturally. She cried a little telling us that. Still, she works on, slowly, carefully, and with delicate diplomacy changing the policies she can. It is change that occurs in miniscule increments, but has profound effects…like a baby no longer needs to have a weight in its chart in order to transfer to postpartum…no separation from Mom’s skin until a couple hours later if that’s what Mom wants. If a woman needs an IV for whatever reason, like to administer antibiotics, they are no longer tied to the pole. She taught her staff to do saline locks. I so admire this lady, and the courage it takes to be taking on such a huge system that is extremely reluctant to change and think outside the box.
She, my training partner, and I met at the hospital today in order to create a doula training for nurses. Our goal is to help new nurses learn about the value of natural birth, and how to support it if the patient is open. This hospital is at least interested in lowering its intervention rate. The chief of obstetrics has been very interested in our statistics, and is curious to see what we doulas can do to help them. The challenge in our town is the incredible shortage of nursing staff. It is simply not feasible to take several nurses off the floor at any given time to do a workshop with them. They often have to take care of 4 labouring woman at a time! So we are devising ways of screening what patients would be interested in receiving labour support, and being mentors for nurses who wish to shadow us doing our jobs.
This is extremely exciting for me. What I know about nursing training here, is that during school, a student nurse might witness a birth or two, one of them almost always being a C-section. The other is most likely an epiduraled birth, since the epidural rate for first time mothers in Montreal hospitals is around 98%. So then they come to work in labour and delivery, and are suddenly surrounded by ladies in active labour…who tend to vocalize quite a lot in many cases. Without any training or support whatsoever, they have to deal with these whirling dervish like labouring people, trying to keep them on a monitor to keep their own jobs. Plus, if they’ve never learned about the value of labour sensations, the way they conduct a beautiful symphony of hormones, and all they perceive is abject misery, OF COURSE they’re gonna push drugs! They are taught that labour pain is a nasty side effect of the birthing process, not something that a woman can perceive as intense, but manageable and even amazing given the right preparation and support.
So, our job as doula trainers is to help OB nurses learn about birth. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it, that the people who deal most with birthing mothers are in fact in the dark about how labour unfolds and why it is intense, rich in sensation, and often for most women extremely painful at times…but do-able. They don’t have time to observe the endorphins or the beautiful oxytocin induced high that makes a lot of women very sexy and loving during labour. They don’t pay attention to the profound rest in the spaces, where a woman can gather energy for the next wave. Often, an inexperienced OB nurse’s method of helping with labour support is to yell, “BREATHE” in the woman’s face, trying to control her, giving her the message that the reason she’s feeling pain is because she’s “out of control” and not breathing right. I’ve never done a breathing technique in my life and birthed just fine, thank you very much, and would have been very offended by someone forcing some kind of aggressive technique on me. Not that I think there’s no value to breathing techniques…if a woman feels this will work for her, it’s a tool she should have…many swear by it, so I respect that. But the “BREATHE” from nurses is usually not calm suggestion, it’s just a fear response, a desire to DO SOMETHING to SAVE this poor creature from the devastation of a pain that will somehow do something so horrible to her, we cannot even bear to witness it. This is what many nurses believe, and what many convey. And if a nurse conveys this message to a labouring mom, a nurse being a medical person, thus someone who, according to a patient, knows what they’re talking about, then she must be right. And so enters the epidural, and truly, you can just hear the sighs of relief from hospital staff when a woman is talked into “her” epidural.
If any OB nurse is out there feeling offended by this, I deeply apologize…I can only speak about what’s going on in my neck of the woods, and it in no way applies to everyone. There are lots of nurses I work with who are master labour supporters…very skilled and loving. There are many who are as frustrated as I am at the lack of training nurses receive in school about how to hold the birth experience skilfully. These nurses, however, are so busy with their jobs given a nursing shortage crisis, they are not in a position to be able to teach the newer nurses. They have asked we doulas to help out. I want to shout out from the rooftops my love for OB nurses, and how I respect their work, and how much I know they shoulder in every way. Many have become friends over the years. I just know with a little guidance, a whole new world would open up to them and to the patients they serve.
A 98% epidural rate could most definitely be reduced if a nurse came into the room during a loud contraction, and she stood calmly smiling, whispering, “you’re so great…you’re doing it, Hon! You’re getting there!” It would be so much more effective than being all tense and scared saying, “you know, this is only going to get worse…I think you’ll relax more if you take the epidural…after all, you need your energy to push, right?” (insert image here of Lesley banging her head repeatedly against the wall in a rage of frustration) Oh, the disempowerment! I know it’s not intentional and malicious…it’s just so…counterproductive. This is our culture.
Instead of wallowing in the quagmire of frustration, however, I will get really positive about the fact that I am allowed to go in there and SHAKE IT UP!!!! I get to change some minds. I get to demonstrate how to be comfortable with expressions of labour, how to be gentle with a labouring mom, how to not force her to be intellectual when she should be allowed to be in primal mode, how to respect her space, and how to provide basic comfort measures if she should so desire them. No, I’m not naive enough to believe a nurse can change the mind of someone Hellbent on wanting an epidural, but I do believe she could help those who might be open to discovering what walking down the road of natural birth has to offer.
So an exciting day in Doula Land!
by MotherWit | Dec 17, 2009 | Uncategorized
I just enjoyed a lovely meeting with the MotherWit crew and our clients. We got to provide information for couples wondering about doula support. We connected with pregnant clients who wanted to meet our backups, and to meet up with other parents-to-be. A couple of postpartum couples and their babies came too, so the pregnant couples had the opportunity to hear about how great it was for the new parents to have a doula present for their births. The dads seemed to be especially touched by our care. It made me really happy to know they felt nurtured throughout labour as well.
It makes me feel content to see a community being built. Feeling isolated when so many incredible transitions occur throughout the childbearing year is something I want to help new moms and dads avoid. Nobody should fall through the cracks with their need to share and learn unmet.
As an experienced doula, I charge on the higher end of the scale. Some of the less experienced though wonderful doulas who work with me charge less. I want us to remember, though, the women who may not have access to doula care at all. Even though it is widely known doulas help reduce the rate of interventions, thus lessening the burden on our overwhelmed healthcare system, it is a service that is a luxury to most.
We asked tonight, in the spirit of the holiday, for donations to help fund doula care for women without the means to afford it. Think about the women who come from a background of terrible abuse, and need the safety of protection. Think about victims of rape coming from war torn countries. Think about refugees, with nobody they know to help them in a culture that is unfamiliar. Think about incarcerated women, or women who have been widowed or abandonned with no financial means. Compassionate care is crucial for these women as they journey into motherhood, and it should not be a luxury only for those who can afford it. We were blessed to receive generous monetary donations, and gifts of newborn diapers, and will pass them on to Montreal Birth Companions, who provide doula care for these women of need. Every pregnant woman needs support, every baby needs a mother who is treated with respect and given physical and emotional nourishment. Doulas are in the best position to provide this support when there is no family or other resources available. If you’ve been thinking about helping out someone less fortunate than you this holiday season, make a donation to a volunteer doula service organization in your area.
It truly does take a villiage to raise a child. Building community, finding support, supporting others…this is the best way to get your needs met as a parent, and to provide a strong foundation for your family. A mom with her 7 week old baby asked me if it was okay if she breastfed in front of the group, and of course I told her not only was it okay, it was important! As she happily breastfeeds her child, she sets that tone for others to do to the same. The more people do that, the more healing this brings to our culture of what Ina May Gaskin brilliantly calls Nipplephobia. Your community gives you strength.
So I leave you with some thoughts about reaching out this holiday, asking for or providing some help for your neighbour or a friend. Don’t worry if you’ve lived next to them for years and have not spoken much. Even a simple gesture can be very meaningful. My beautiful midwife for my third child had words of wisdom I have always remembered. She said, “be generous with each other…open your hearts.” Words to live by.
by MotherWit | Dec 16, 2009 | Uncategorized
This blog isn’t about the dying we sometimes see in birth, which is certainly painful. I have been present for the still births and deaths of some babies, and this is tragic.
Rather, I would like to reflect upon the experience I had sitting with a friend tonight who is close to leaving this earth. She is not a friend I saw every day, or even someone I’ve known for a long time, but she is someone I connected very deeply with, and whom I have kept in touch with over the period of a few years.
I found out she was ill about a year and a half ago, and called her to tell her I had heard about it. She was really positive she’d make a full recovery, and was doing great. We continued to talk on occasion, about life and death, always making plans to get together, and always getting caught up in the busy-ness of our own lives. You never really think time is going to run out.
I found out from a mutual friend of ours a couple months ago, that quite suddenly she had taken a turn for the worse, and was potentially looking at facing death. This weekend I met up with another mutual friend I’ll call V, and she confirmed that this lady was indeed leaving us, and soon. In fact, V said if I came to visit, it was likely she wouldn’t even recognize me, her illness was so advanced. I asked her if she thought it was okay if I came to visit, and she said “of course… she loves you! Just come and hang out.” So tonight I went.
When I arrived at V’s house first, I was devastated, because she met me at the door in tears. I thought I was too late. But V was just expressing sadness at the impending loss. We took a cab. She warned me our friend was now like a baby, that she hadn’t talked for awhile, and needed help getting around for simple things, like getting to the bathroom. But I found myself very very blessed to have arrived on a night when she was lucid, and able to speak. I could hear her familiar voice, coming from the bathroom as she spoke to her mother.
I went downstairs for awhile until she was finished in the bathroom, and then took a breath for courage and went back up to her room. And there was my lovely friend, lying in bed. Her appearance was certainly altered…but still the beautiful face I know and love. She looked hard at me through eyes hazed, and like always, I was struck by how searching her gaze is. She has always dug for authenticity. That is her essence, and illness has not touched that. Tonight I was grateful for my experience with birth, because it has made me comfortable with intense physical and emotional expression. I could mirror back to her what I do with my birthing ladies, which is absolute acceptance for their experience, however they need to do it. I am confident my friend found no fear or pity in my eyes, only love, presence, and acceptance. She was absolutely safe with me to do whatever might happen, whether it be vomit, cry, yell in pain, whatever. Her eyes filled with tears and dripped down her nose. What she wanted to do was remember, relate, tie up our experience together in her mind. It was healing for us both.
My friend feels her emotions deeply. She gets frustrated with how heavy her body feels. She cannot eat. She is in pain. There is no inclination or ability to swallow feelings, to play games for anyone. There just isn’t time. People say there is no dignity in dying, or in giving birth, but I don’t feel that way. I find there is a serene beauty that comes when someone is living on this edge. Everything has broken down, and everything has become coloured by pain, even isolated by it. When someone in this situation can be held with acceptance and love and know there is no shame in where they are, they are free to just be…to live as presently as possible until there isn’t any life anymore, no matter what control their body takes from them.
To feed her liquid from a spoon, to tend to her, was an honour. To have her even remember me at this late stage is a gift whose worth I cannot even express. When she is kissed or has her hand held, she smiles so sweetly, taking it all in. Her loved ones are there constantly, and she is surrounded by support. If she can take anything with her when she goes, it will be the incredible vibration of love that encircles and permeates her.
The atmosphere in the room is one of peace. Like during labour, it has a timeless quality….even though the person in the room dancing with this force is unpredictable and often very intense, the periphery and spaces are serene. When a human being comes in, they do it on waves, and the energy is of growing momentum, crescendo, then birth. When one is dying, it’s like the waves of intensity swell in, and the person is drawn back a little farther as each wave recedes, instead of closer, as in birth.
Strangely, I did not feel overwhelmed by a desire to bawl, like I thought I would. I just felt so much joy for the gift of these moments we got to spend together. Who knows what ANY moment brings? I see her family suffering, and am deeply sad for how hard this is on them. This is never easy. We as human beings are so attached. This is our thing. We are attached to our forms and accomplishments, everything that makes up our identity and environment. It is the attachment to these forms that causes us such sorrow when they’re lost. For that I am filled with grief for the soon to be loss of my friend and for the loss her family will suffer. But for her, once she sheds these attachments once and for all, she is without suffering, without limitation. She is free. And knowing that, my heart is lighter.
My friend fell asleep before we said goodnight officially. I didn’t want to hog her from the many loved ones who wanted to spend time with her too. So, without any defining final moments, I left. I don’t know if I’ll see her again. I left her family my number, and if there is any reason she asks to see me or anything I can do, I will surely go. But I think we did we did what we needed to do. We wrapped up our friendship in a beautiful collage of memories, and celebrated our dance together on this earth. I cannot express how glad I am for having had that opportunity.
Hug your loved ones tonight. This gift of life right here and right now is a precious thing.
by MotherWit | Dec 14, 2009 | Uncategorized
I am so curious to know how other doulas cope with situations in which their clients are being treated very poorly within their chosen place of birth. I have my ways, and so far I am still allowed to work in hospitals, so in some ways I’m doing okay. I am working on trying to make sure those ways don’t cost me too much emotionally.
In some parts of North America, doulas are welcomed into hospitals and birthing centres with open arms, and valued as crucial members of the birth support team. In other parts of the world, they are not allowed in. Here in Montreal, I am blessed to work with really great people, most of whom I trust, and who trust me. But this is not true, unfortunately, for doulas in general. I think it’s more because I am a very familiar face at most of the hospitals around here, and I work with great caution, meaning I practice delicate diplomacy. In many ways, this has great benefits, because my clients get to birth within an environment of peace most of the time. There is not an undercurrent of ugly conflict and hostility between doc/nurse/and doula. This is extremely important to me, because obviously, this is not the ideal atmosphere within which to give birth. The more I keep things conflict free, the more I am trusted, the better the environment is for my clients, the happier their births, and my welcome in the hospital is continued. But it does mean there are times I have to suck up a lot of nasty stuff that’s not so good for me either. I do it for my client’s well being, and work hard to process the nastiness so it doesn’t stick around inside me.
Alas, I get told a lot by various members of hospital staff, “before the patient came in, they called in and said they were bringing their doula…we were all rolling our eyeballs and getting ready for a fight, but then we saw it was you, and thank goodness, we can relax now, because you’re fine…we like you.” This sentence does not stoke my ego, believe me. It makes me really sad that there are a lot of doulas out there, trying to establish themselves and their good work, and are being held in prejudice before their feet get off the ground.
Unfortunately, because we are under a lot of scrutiny, it can only take one or two incidents to put staff members off doulas. I am privy to some stories medical staff relate to me about some behaviours that are not going to help our doula cause at all, our cause being to create a safe emotional and physically comfortable environment within which our clients’ births will unfold as naturally as possible, if this is what they wish and what is meant to be. A lovely nurse came up to me a few weeks ago and said, “there is a doula who came by yesterday, and every time I came in to look at the monitor or put up the Synto (synthetic oxytocin), she’s get in my face and say aggressively, “what do you think YOU’RE doing?” This nurse told me her feelings were hurt, and she hated coming into the room and being criticized for doing her job. Because after all, if she doesn’t do her job, whether the doula likes it or not, the nurse will get in trouble. Another nurse told me she walked into the room to see a doula doing a vaginal examination because she thought the resident’s exam was incorrect. In our neck of the woods, it is not legal for doulas to do internal examinations. This crosses the line into midwifery. Now, if some doulas out there do do exams, that’s their business, but to publicly do it in supposed defiance of a medical person, is not a good doula move. Other staff members tell me, “the doula told the mother to stay home with her waters broken for 48 hours.” Whether that’s true or not, it is so important for medical people to know that it is not our job to tell women to do this. Our job is to explain what is expected of them by their doctors, honestly outline all the risks the medical staff are concerned about, have the clients do their research if they do not want to follow those protocols, and then let the mother make her own informed choice. It should always be extremely clear that we don’t tell our clients what to do.
The way I figure it is this: our clients are choosing to give birth within a medical environment because this is where they feel safest. This is how THEY feel, whether we as doulas agree with them or not. They are hiring us to be a sounding board for information, a person who stays with them the whole time, and someone who will care for their needs for emotional/physical comfort. This means they are, to some extent, willing to accept some of the rules and protocols of their particular hospital in exchange for the security they feel by being there. If they were against everything the hospital stood for, they would find other choices. If they say there are no other choices, it’s not true…there are almost always alternatives we can guide them to if they wished. If a client is completely anti hospital and has to go there anyway for some reason, we cannot get into that whole ‘fight the hospital” thing with them. We can’t make them even more frightened of being there than they already are. We can’t come in with them like Don Quixote with the intent of doing whatever we want. It’s bigger than we are, and our attitude will make overworked, usually well intentioned staff members stand up on their hind legs in defence of their work, and this will not translate into the most compassionate care possible for our client, which is what we ultimately want, or should want. If we are going in there with the intent of trying to change minds by choosing a more confrontational approach, we have to know nobody is going to suddenly get a look in their eyes like they just got a bucket of cold water over their head and say, “oh, thanks…I’ve been so wrong all this time. Thanks for opening my eyes.” This is NOT me criticizing the benefits of confrontation at times, honestly. It is not to say our beliefs are wrong. It is just me saying that in this situation, where it is known that just by hiring a doula the client is already making a statement that she wants some extra care the hospital is not able to provide, it doesn’t take much to make the situation tense and defensive.
So what do you do as a doula when things get ugly, no matter your great intentions and careful behaviour?
Before getting into that, I just want to give credit where it’s due. Doctors and nurses are extremely hard working people. We have a terrible shortage of medical staff, and, not getting paid close to what American medical people make, they are working their tails off. I also want to emphasise the amount of responsibility these people have. It is all fine and well for us as doulas to be against many of their choices, but we are not coming from a place of clinical responsibility. Even in Canada, grief stricken parents do blame doctors for bad outcomes, and do sue. These fears, not to mention challenges with insurance companies, add a lot of fuel to the already incredible responsibility these people have. For example, a guy I work with sometimes, a stellar doctor and really good man, sent my clients for an induction. The baby’s heart tones had not been so great in the regular prenatal checkup, and the non stress test had shown some concerns, though nothing that sounded out signals of “emergency”. I met up with the doctor in the hall and said, “you must be really concerned if you are sending them in for induction.” His answer always sticks with me. He said, “I hate having to put them through a procedure they clearly don’t want. I’m aware of how much harder it is and some of the risks involved. Do I think I can send them home and most likely everything will be just fine? Yes. Can I as a doctor? No. Because what if, God forbid, they come back, and there IS a huge problem, and I didn’t do my job, as aggressive as the choice for induction is, to ensure the safety of the baby when it is true I saw some things in the heart tones that were a concern? What happens to them? what happens to me?” You know intellectually the amount of responsibility a doctor has, but to see it in his eyes, to know it in your heart, is a bigger thing. It actually created a lot more compassion in me for their struggles. Obviously, this doctor’s patient chose to induce. She had a painful labour, chose and epidural, and had a beautiful vaginal birth in a supportive environment. Do I dislike induction? Yes. Did I try to change this woman’s mind? No. I trust she is smart enough to make her own decisions. I’m just there to support whatever presents itself, not just the things I wish for.
In my experience, most OBs, family docs, and nurses are like the man I mentioned above… concerned for their patients’ wellbeing, struggling between what the patients want and what they feel are safe options for a safest outcome. There is a lot of work to be done about certain medical protocols, certainly. Even a lot of doctors agree. So holding them in contempt in our hearts, even if we don’t act it out, can hurt the birthing environment. My wise and wonderful doula colleague Rivka has a saying I try to live by: “when you enter the birthing room, come in as clean as a newborn baby.” This means don’t be judgemental. Don’t be on the defensive. Cultivate openness and compassion as much as possible, and if something bad comes up, manage it as non-confrontationally as you can.
So back to that: how do we manage when things are not feeling good in the room? There is a Facebook group out there called “My OB said WHAT?” It is shocking and at the same time entertaining. A lot of wounded women get to get their feelings off their chests and receive support for the emotions surrounding the thoughtless things that are said to them, so I understand the impetus to post those things. I do want to re-iterate, though, that we should see those sayings as being from unaware or unkind individuals, and not look upon obstetrics as something evil. We would feel bad as stellar mothers to have something out there entitled, “My mother said WHAT?” and have bad things we may have said to our kids aired out, even if we are good overall, or the words of bad ones reflected badly upon us as a whole.
So now I will share a few terrible things I have heard and seen, and how I tend to cope.
A client, dilated nearly to fully, all on her own steam, feeling great about herself: an OB goes to give her an exam, and knowing how much she is bothered by cervical examinations, I hold her hand, and prepare her by having her take some slow breaths. The doctor looks at me scornfully and says, “it sounds like you’re preparing her for the worst.” The client picks up on his tension, and finds the examination very painful. He says to her, “what’s with all this huffing and puffing? If you react this way from my fingers, how do you think you’re going to get a BABY out of there?” I’m thinking, “did he just SAY that? Did I hear this clearly?! Is this person really that insensitive, or am I on PUNK’D” The room goes silent. He walks out, demanding more fetal monitoring, obviously clearly believing these natural birthing people are being cavalier about their baby’s wellbeing. The mother is MAD. The father is irate. What do I want to do? I want to run out of the room, jump on his back, claw with insane fury at his face and ask him if he has ever experienced rough fingers in HIS almost fully dilated, un pain medicated cervix. I want to hate him with all my guts and put curses on him. I want him to break out in painful zits all over his bum. I want nothing good. Would this help? No. Would some pithy, put-him-in-his-place statement clear the tension? No, because he is clearly not into this whole natural birth crap, and already think we are walking criticisms of his work, even though we are not. Well, not ’til then, anyway. So what did we do? When he left, I looked at them, and suggested we all take a really deep breath. We each vented our pain and frustration at his words together just to release the tension. Then I suggested for the time being, we let it go, and make sure we be as friendly as possible to him to make sure he has no excuse to continue his rudeness. The nurse encouraged the mom and dad to think about making a formal complaint later, which they did, but for now to forget about it. I imagined, which I do when I’m really upset, that I’m a dragon, and I breathe all my anger into a fireproof bag that I fold up and place on a shelf until I can open it and do something with it in the future. When the doctor came in and saw the patients had agreed to the monitoring, he seemed to relax and know he wasn’t dealing with what he deemed crazy people. When he saw we were actively friendly with him, he relaxed and had a much better attitude. This is not to say anyone excused his behaviour or became his pal, but we refused to let his mistrust and negativity poison the environment anymore. By choosing to treat him with respect in spite of his own lack of respect, we were taking the higher road, creating a clearer energy. Had we remained in a state of victimization or fury, the birthing environment would have gotten increasingly polluted. This wasn’t easy for me, believe me. I had to take a little space to hold his image in my mind and force myself to wish for his wellbeing, to send him love as a fellow human being who was going to witness and help with this sacred event. I had to remind us all to love and accept ourselves in the moment instead of buying his words, which were HIS words, based on his fears and shortcomings. In short, we dug for compassion.
One birth several years ago was particularly challenging near the end, not for any physical reasons…the mother was birthing like a champ. Her doctor was not a natural birth advocate at all. He paid lip service to it prenatally, but when it came down to it, he didn’t have experience with or believe in the fact a woman could do it naturally. So when he came in to “deliver” my client, he began, without any explanation, to give her a pudendal block. This is some scary old school pain blocker, nothing which my client wanted. She had no idea what this big needle was, and was unaware what was to happen. I leaned over to her and said, “your doctor is about to give you a medication which….” I was interrupted with an explosive yell at me to keep quiet. Unbeknownst to me, before this occured, the doctor had taken the father out of the room to tell him he wanted me and the prenatal yoga teacher who was with us out. The doctor was angry because our client was unmedicated. The father was an incredible advocate for his wife, and said, “these women have helped us have get to full dilation naturally. They are staying, and there’s no $#%^$ debating it!” When the doc told me to shut up, I shut up, because there was nothing I could do about this needle going into my client’s vagina. When he started guiding her to push, I was by her ear, whispering calming words. Again, he yelled at me to step away from his patient, that I was getting in the way of her being “coached”. He got out the scissors to do an episiotomy and forceps. I was absolutely powerless to stop this horror show from unfolding. I was debating stepping between the doctor and my client, or yelling FIRE or something drastic, the anger and helplessness building. I was overwhelmed by the misery of powerlessness and fear for my client’s body. Then I looked over at the yoga teacher, and I learned in that moment where my power lay as a support person and space holder. She had her eyes closed, and I could feel strong waves of love emanating from her. I saw with clarity what she was doing, and decided, for the sake of the baby, to quickly follow suit. I took my rage, nausea, and horror, and transformed it into love for that doctor…for the mother who was giving birth, for the father, who was now being held up by our yogini friend because he too was overwhelmed by what he was witnessing. She was whispering into his ear. We all joined our intentions together to create the most peaceful, loving environment we could for the arrival of this sweet, innocent being. We needed to clean up our rage at what we could not in the moment control. We could not linger in the victimization for now. We HAD to transform it, and the only way was to intentionally love. This may sound like a weenie thing to have done, but I swear to you, it worked. The doctor delivered this baby, for no reason known to us, by forceps…thank goodness he was very practised and skilled with this procedure…and the baby was well…a peaceful, beautiful little soul. Strangely enough, though Dad, the yoga teacher, and I were traumatized by what we had witnessed, the mother was not. She seemed to take it better stride than anyone. I am wondering if the collective web of energy we wove around her and the baby helped the trauma not anchor itself into her experience. I don’t know. But I do know that from that time on, I chose to deal with these situations of powerlessness with active non-violence.
I saw a mother do the same thing spontaneously once. Again, it was a natural birth, and the doctor came in and said, “I’m going to cut you, otherwise you’re going to explode.” Now, what a lovely image for a birthing mother to have in her mind as her baby crowns. The medical student, who was gently sitting there, allowing for a nice long crowning, said, “I think she’s stretching really nicely, actually.” The doctor became irate, snapped off her glove, crossed her arms, and said, “well, then why am I even here at all? If you all know everything, you can just deliver your own baby!” Crickets chirping in the room. Then the dad lost it. He started screaming, “How DARE you talk to my wife like that when we are giving birth, what is WRONG with you?!” The mother, dreamy eyed with endorphins, said, “Honey, it’s just her stuff. Let’s just focus on having our baby peacefully.” The doctor shut up, the father calmed down, and the med student had the most beautiful smile when she caught the baby and discovered absolutely no tears to the mother’s perineum…not one teeny, tiny little “explosion”.
I have a lot more stories like this, sadly. But the point is that they ended well. In choosing to be calm and loving, instead of angry and confrontational, which would surely have felt good in the moment, I feel we helped create a better environment for the baby and reduced stress for the mom. Yes, by birthing in hospital we risk these situations. But luckily, they are rare. Most of the care my clients receive is respectful and compassionate, and I am truly grateful for some of the life saving interventions I have seen in my years of practice. A doula cannot control everything that is done, but we can help to mitigate some of the emotional risks.
So what do I do with those fireproof bags in the end? I go into a safe space, open them up, and let the emotions come out. I release them, and envision them transforming into a greater capacity to love, a better ability to hold difficult situations with peace. And then I write about it.
I leave you with a song I absolutely love by K’Naan, who was born and raised in Somalia, one of the most violent places on earth to live at the time. He speaks of his mother, who even though she was beaten and threatened with her children being taken from her, she gave those who harmed her prayers. K’Naan thanks Africa for his hardships for making him capable of giving. He talks of creating his own medicine by processing the worst situations he’s lived through. I am moved by that humbleness, and think there is wisdom in choosing peace where we can.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DIhm94a-8SE
by MotherWit | Dec 12, 2009 | Uncategorized
At the MotherWit HQ (which is on the corner of my couch on my wee Net Book where I can hang out with my family and snuggle various children and a German Shorthair Pointer dog named Lola on my lap), we are being very productive. I am in communication with my doula A-team as we prepare for our next “Meet the Doula” Soiree. My genius MotherWit Postpartum Doula Millie and I are structuring her postpartum doula care packages and creating a PHENOMENAL post-partum doula training for 2010.
The MotherWit website is being formed a little at a time. I work almost every day, fully booked with pre/post natal appointments, and then come home to be here for the kids, make dinner, etc. So of course, things go slowly when a working mother undertakes the expansion of her business. Thank goodness for the constant help in organization and technical stuff from my husband, not to mention the moral support.
I am also working on the MotherWit Intensive Doula Training, scheduled to take place in July. This is really a pet project of mine, as I love teaching, and good doula training seems to be very lacking. I am super excited at the interest that’s been expressed about this training, and I want to make it spectacular.
One of the challenges with popular doula training, is how little it offers in terms of coping with the harder aspects of being a doula. Doulas with a lot of experience call it “Doula Kindergarten”, yet women are feeling like they’re actually prepared to deal with the intensity of hospital situations when they come out of these weekend workshops.
I think a doula’s main job is to help keep a woman in “primal brain” mode while she’s in labour, meaning she should protect a woman and her partner’s space to allow their labour to unfold with as little interruption as possible. Many new doulas like to exist in “do” mode, meaning they do things like time contractions, and oh, the constant suggesting of positions! My wonderful Polarity Therapy teacher John Beaulieu has a great saying…”sometimes, the more you do, the more you doo doo.” And it makes so much sense. Being over-solicitous, meaning always checking in to see how a woman is or what she needs, using tools that might not be necessary, doing all these weird walking and jumping around tricks when perhaps all the woman needs to do is sleep, and THE WORST is arguing in a hostile way with hospital staff members, serves to make labour longer and harder.
This is not the fault of the lovely, well intentioned women who go into doula training. It is simply that trying to fit so much into a couple of days of training is just not going to teach students more than the very basics, and not necessarily the finesse with which to use the tools with discrimination. The students are asked to follow childbirth preparation classes, many of them very mainstream, in order to gather education about the birth process. But these classes themselves are usually not taught by people who have tons of experience sitting and observing labour in a non clinical way. These students generally do not have the option of apprenticing with an experienced doula, which is such a valuable way of learning…going to a birth without having to do anything but observe and do a few errands for the primary doula.
I have to say,the doula training I give is pretty good. I say this not with Ego, but because I myself did a doula training oh so long ago and wished I could have had so much more input and supervision than I received. I know where the holes in my learning were, so I try to fill those gaps in the training I give. There was really nobody to talk to when the first birth I went to, I actually caught the baby accidentally at home, because there was not enough emphasis in my training about HOW FAST a second baby can come after the signs of active labour present themselves. There was nobody to talk to when at the seventh birth I attended, the baby was stillborn. I have learned everything through experience, through trial and error, and I will always continue learning.
A doula trainer should help doula her students through the process of learning such a challenging art and science. She needs to be a shoulder to cry on…a new doula is tender and gets upset really easily when she sees how big the hospital system is, and how her fierce belief in natural, un-intervened with birth is not necessarily going to play out no matter what she does, and that her job is to work with WHAT IS NOW, not with what she wishes would be. A new doula needs to talk through the first time a nurse or doctor makes her feel ashamed for being a non medical person, and for being a young, inexperienced one at that. It can be ROUGH without support and guidance. I try to encourage new doulas to work in partnership, whereas I spent years working alone, feeling very isolated. I learn SO much more in partnership. And I never mind when a student of mine, even an allumni of a few years, calls me up to ask me questions or for help to talk her off a ledge of the despair that can come with feeling powerless at births sometimes. I try to do everything I can to prepare my students and give them guidance when they start off.
MotherWit is woman-ed with some wonderful former students of mine. I have worked with all of them at births, and I have a lot of faith in their abilities. They are committed to building a community for our birthing ladies in Montreal, and a community for we doulas, who’s need to talk through situations we’ve encountered is intense. When you are in a profession that has you working with primal, unpredictable energy and have to do this support within an environment that is full of fear for it, you often need to do some serious debriefing for your emotional health. I have no idea how I did it before hooking up with other experienced doulas.
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MotherWit is also helping to raise funds for Montreal Birth Companions, which is an organization run by my beloved Sister Doula Rivka. MBC provides free doula care to women of need, often refugees from other countries who have no support whatsoever. The more challenging a situation, the more support a birthing woman and new mother needs, so, as MotherWit clients are able to pay for our services, we ask for donations to help fund Montreal Birth Companions. The students Rivka and I train do a lot of volunteer work with this organization, which is both so helpful to the moms who need this service, and a great learning experience for new doulas.
We are also going to be working on a great series of doula-taught prenatal classes. We will NOT give out little charts with smiley faces demonstrating how one feels when ones’ contractions are coming at such and such a time apart and the cervix is dilated to such and such a number of centimetres. Truly, that concept is SO ingrained in people’s thinking, they can’t see the forest for the trees. If we could eliminate the whole timing contraction thing, I think we could lower the epidural rate by a whole ton. I have had women have their babies waiting for contractions to get to 2 minutes apart, had women never have contractions closer together than 7 minutes or so, have had people have 2 minutes apart from the get go, but labour still took over 24 hours of increasing intensity. There are far more telling things to look at to figure out how close the baby is.
So, folks, that’s where we’re at. I will let you know when the site is up and running. I hope you have a fantastic weekend, that you are warm and safe, and that you have everything you really need.
by MotherWit | Dec 11, 2009 | Uncategorized
It is a cold and blustery night here in Montreal…the wind is howling and the windows shaking. But my night was cozy, safe, and warm. My younger kids, my husband, and I got to celebrate the 1st anniversary of the birth of my buddy Iggy. He is a child who draws a lot of love to him. It warms my heart to no end to see him thriving in every way. I feel blessed to be part of his life. Birth can be such a fiercely bonding experience, and Iggy’s parents and I are connected for life after a 4 day labour and a vaginal birth after 2 previous C-sections.
What can a woman endure, let me count the ways! I don’t think I’ve ever met someone in my entire career who worked so hard to birth a baby…not just throughout labour, but prenatally as well. Natalie dedicated herself, body,mind, and spirit, to creating space, to healing, to accepting whatever Birth was going to give her. As feared situations arose, instead of shutting down in resistance, she dug as deeply as she could to learn what was to be learned, and used those lessons to heal. She owned her birth so powerfully by the end, that when a young doctor, who had no idea how much she had truly gone through already, came in and said, “well, we might have to Section you because you’ve been such and such amount of centimetres for such and such a time,” she laughed from deep in her belly. Not in mockery, but in mastery. Her birth shed light upon some of her biggest demons and she conquered them, very likely permanently. She knew there was nothing that was going to come up that she couldn’t deal with. And not only did she own it, she loved it. In our culture of high drama which thinks a 24 hour labour is something to emote complainingly about, Natalie looks joyfully upon her birth experience with love and gratitude. To be grateful for 4 days of gruelling labour (we’re not just talking about the kind of contractions that you can distract yourself from) because of the things it taught you and how it healed you is probably one of the most beautiful examples of living in grace I have ever seen. No WONDER Iggy is such a special kid.
It’s important to celebrate fathers as well. As we looked over the photos from Iggy’s birth tonight, his mother was obviously a Goddess, moving that baby down with everything she had. But I need to give his dad Adam serious props, because he had to get his head around all the crazy belly magic and the secret witchy workings of we women in the birthing room. This kind of intense work, the kind only those who work a lot with Birth energy really understand, can make a man feel pretty isolated sometimes. Those photos,however, revealed a man incredibly loving, pouring all his energy into his partner, into his baby, protecting them with all his intention. As scared as he may have been at times with such an arduous journey, and despite how many difficult decisions he had to think about, unsure of what and whom to trust, he allowed himself to be vulnerable, and chose to allow the womens’ work to unfold. I have profound respect for how he held that space, even when he felt broken and perhaps nothing like the strong, intense man he is. He had to endure some seriously challenging emotional and spiritual labour pains in order to birth himself as Father, as that is what Birth demanded of him too. And he did it spectacularly. Where and how I ever received such a privilege, I’ll never know…but I got to witness it. And hold it. And tonight, I celebrate it. Chin chin, my friend.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, IGGY! I love you.
