My Story

Since I was small, I have always loved caring for others, comforting, supporting, and advocating for them. This gift has manifested in many ways over the years, but always stems from the core belief that people, their needs, and their emotional state are truly important and everyone deserves to be loved and cared for.

My journey into pregnancy, birthing, and postpartum care has been long. At 4 years old, my mother had my youngest sibling and due to complications, was not allowed to carry her baby around. While my older siblings were at school, it was my job to help care for the baby and help my mom with everything. I became an aunt at 14 and had the joy of helping provide care to my nephew as often as possible. I still remember the day I got to hear his heartbeat, the first ultrasound, and of course the day he was born, all like it was yesterday. And while I had many more women in my life going through pregnancies and giving birth or grieving loss, it was not for another 15 years that I began to truly hear their stories.

One after another I watched my friends and sisters have preventable complications change the trajectory of their pregnancy and steal the beauty and joy from their birth story. Instead of feeling empowered, strong, supported, and cared for, they were often left feeling like this wasn’t what they had wanted, they let themselves or their baby down, or they had somehow failed. I came away from every new story feeling like there must be more that I could do to help them. I would research everything during their pregnancies (and even caught complications before their provider), provide a listening ear, give massages, fold laundry, and anything else I could think of. Postpartum, I would come by and check on them, bring food, care for baby, pick up, and again provide a listening ear.

Then, it was my turn. I had been there to support countless mamas during their journeys and I knew what I wanted in my own. I made a birth plan, hired a doula, and listened to my body (well mostly). But at my 36 week appointment, after running across the hospital so that I wouldn’t be late, my blood pressure was elevated. The doctor sent me to L&D for monitoring and the next thing I know, I am being told that baby needs to come out today.

What!?! I couldn’t process, but I knew they were wrong. The staff kept taking my blood pressure right after triggering me and using that as the reason for inducing, saying that keeping baby inside was putting her at risk. What they didn’t tell me was that the risks of each induction medication were higher and worse than letting her stay inside and continue growing. Or that I would likely needed multiple of those medications which would compound the risks. Or that these medications may not even work and after putting both my own and my baby’s bodies through that trauma, there was an even higher risk of cesarean section.

I called my support team, my doula, and my GP and everyone agreed with me, except of course the OBGYN and hospital staff. I agreed to be monitored for 24 hours and was admitted. This turned into nearly a month long stay in the hospital, fighting for my baby to stay inside my womb until she was ready.

I labored with my family by my side all day at the hospital, walking, showering, squatting, you name it, I did it. Once I was close to transition phase, I moved down to L&D and my doula came to meet me. Since I had been admitted for monitoring initially, I had not consented to any intervention on my admit paperwork. The delivery nurse was shoving the entire stack of papers in my face during contractions and insisting that my husband could not sign them.

My doula stepped in, handling the paperwork being signed by my spouse (as is legally allowed), making sure I had the equipment I needed, and the freedom to move around the room and change positions as needed. She guided me while supporting both my husband and me through every step. I ended up having my daughter from a standing position, fully supported on all sides. This was not planned, but it was beautiful. I followed my body. I felt so strong. I felt so much physical relief and pure joy flowed throughout my body. This is what every mother should feel directly after giving birth.

Over the next few weeks, as people came to visit, every guest commented on how strong I looked and how they couldn’t believe that I was able to get up and do as much as I did. This reaction was universal. No one in my own circle had seen what a birth without intervention could look like, nor what that would mean for healing.

People began telling me their birth stories and all of the interventions and issues that arose from them. Then they began telling me the stories of their loved ones. With each new story, I dove deeper into advocacy, starting with researching each intervention and diagnosis. I believe that the strongest advocacy has to be based in both care and knowledge. If you do not care, you won’t fight for them. And if you are not knowledgeable, you will be much more easily deceived into taking the path of least resistance, or making the decision to comply based on fear and not on understanding.

By the time I was pregnant with my second, I thought I had it all handled. I found a doctor that was highly recommended by people who advocated for natural births and had my support team set up. But then, in the delivery room, the doctor began pushing interventions while I was already laboring on my own. I declined and he responded in anger. After I repeatedly refused the interventions, my doctor finally left the room. I kept the nurse apprised of every major change in my laboring so she would know how I was progressing. She didn’t seem to get how close I was, so the doctor was not called in time. I ended up delivering my own baby in the kneeling position with my husband assisting in catching.

I delivered my own baby in the hospital. NOT on purpose. Again, it was a whirlwind with an unnecessary fight, but it was beautiful!

After this birth, I knew I had to help others fight for their own birth stories in the labor and delivery room, not simply in their homes. My nurse had never seen a fully natural, unmedicated birth without intervention. NEVER. How could this even be possible? It was then that I began my journey to become a birth doula myself.

I am so grateful for the opportunity to serve the women who choose to invite me into one of the most intimate moments of their lives. I do not take this opportunity for granted. I will fight for every mama as hard as she wants me to while respecting that her desires for birth may not be the same as mine.