Despite having a deep interest in the anthropology of birth, I had never actually witnessed a birth. I had never been in the delivery room during the actual act of birthing a human being; I had only been present after the fact, when everything is cleaned up and mom and baby are tucked up in the hospital bed.
But a few days ago, I had the opportunity to shadow another doula while her client pushed a beautiful and wailing baby boy into the world. I had the opportunity to experience the sights and the sounds of birth: what it’s like to watch someone experience a contraction, what it looks like when a baby is crowning and how the baby’s head really does mould to fit its pathway, and how the placenta is delivered afterwards. Everything I had read about and listened to others describe, I finally got to see with my own eyes.
The passageway into this world is difficult. There was a moment when I saw the top of the baby’s head and thought, surely there is no way that a head that size can actually get out, this is crazy. The logical part of my brain knew that of course the baby would be delivered and everything would be fine. But there’s a certain level of mystery to birth, I think, that still allows you to wonder at the sheer impossibility of what you’re seeing even though you know that people have given birth for millions of years.
Childbirth is difficult. Coming into this world is difficult. Pushing someone into this world is difficult. The whole process involves a lot of pain, blood, and amniotic fluid. But it can also involve support and encouragement, especially when you’re surrounded by loved ones, compassionate birth helpers, and a diligent medical team.
Ok, I know I’m getting mushy so let me move on and share moments of the birth that I am still processing.
A medical team that gives autonomy to the birthing person makes a huge difference. I’ll probably submit another post that goes into more detail about the practical (and very easy) ways to do this that I observed, and will doubtlessly have more comments on this subject based on the more I read and the more births that I attend. Suffice it to say, for now, that a supportive relationship can exist between a birthing person and their medical team.
The birth ball is a marvelous invention, but not everyone knows that a hospital might offer one (the same for peanut balls or squat bars). Don’t be afraid to talk to the nurse, or mention it to the birthing person. Birth balls can offer relief from pain and discomfort, and there’s also something nice about being able to move around but still be sitting for the contractions.
A knowledgeable doula is a valuable doula. I was amazed by the amount of information the other doula knew, and how comforting her knowledge was for her clients. I left the hospital with a firm reminder that it is incredibly important to always be learning. A doula may not technically be an academic, but we should never stop reading books, going to workshops, and sharing knowledge with each other.
The act of pushing is accompanied with a lot of support by the people surrounding the birthing person. Encouraging the person to push, telling them how, urging them on…all of it culminates into an intense social act. The pregnant person is the one physically pushing, but they are relying on the people around them to tell them not only when to push, but how. Is knowing how to push not as instinctual as knowing when? Is knowing when instinctual, but knowing how learned?
Everything changes once the baby is born. As soon as the baby cries, all of the pain and panic seem to just evaporate as if they weren’t even there to begin with. I couldn’t believe the difference between the two moments, only seconds apart from each other. I’m still processing how quickly such enormous amounts of pain can just be forgotten. Is there another moment in life where that can happen, or is this unique to childbirth?
Finally, if you are a person who has ever produced a baby, let me just say: you are a warrior, a testament to the strength and love that it takes to give life to something else. Whether you scream during a contraction or stay silent, whether you lose yourself in a moment of panic or don’t, whether or not you accept chemical or surgical intervention, you are a warrior. Don’t look back and feel like you didn’t handle things correctly, that you should have been stronger, braver, quieter, etc. I don’t know if there’s a way to handle things correctly. There is just you, doing the best that you can, doing this impossibly possible thing.
Winding Path Doula 