It’s 3.08am and I’m in deep sleep. Los Van Van rings out from my phone. I love a good salsa ringtone. Always wakes me and makes me want to dance. It wasn’t ringing to invite me dancing though. A baby was on the way and its mum wanted me.
I trained with the fabulous Michel Odent and came home wanting another baby. I have 5. A sixth wasn’t really what I wanted. What I wanted was a ‘do over’, to see how my own birth would have been with a doula, or at least with the knowledge of physiological birth that was filling my head. Instead, I get to share that journey with so many others.
I watch birth unfold in a myriad of ways. It’s not always the way that Michel described it, the births that made me, for a nanosecond, want to birth again. It is, however, birth nonetheless. Beautiful, glorious, awe inspiring, breath taking, birth.
Sometimes, those rare sometimes, the baby has died. My role is almost different now. Holding the space, crying tears, supporting, loving, silent, vocal doula care. Conscious of dreams once held.
I’m a believer in good births. Informed decision, informed consent births. Sometime these don’t come as beautiful physiological things. Sometimes they come with some emergency, minor or major drama. Sometimes they come vaginally, sometimes via caesarean birth. These single, multiple, head, bottom or foot presenting births.
It’s more than a baby being born. It’s a family being born and I have the privilege and honour to witness so many.
I love being a doula. I didn’t know that this was the thing that I had waited to be. It fills my every pore, my breath, the core of me, my heart, my soul. So when my phone rings at 3.08am, I rise from my bed and get ready to welcome whatever may come.