My first birth was really surprising. It was just such an embodied and visceral experience that I really lost myself in, in beautiful and hard ways. It was really, really hard work. And at the end I was so proud, but also just a little stunned by how intense it was. I also didn’t have a care provider that I felt connected to.

My second birth felt really different for a lot of reasons. I had a doula with me that time, and my husband really stepped up to the plate in terms of support. My doula really helped to make me feel comfortable throughout the process, and acted as a touchpoint for me as I moved through.

Birth is a time when the more intensive and personal support we can get, the better the outcome. That’s something that’s been proven in studies, written about, seen, shown. It’s something that I wish didn’t have to be a job, but it does have to be a job. Our culture has shifted away from the village model - as in, “It takes a village to raise a child.” So, to compensate, we’ve had to create these new roles that used to arise naturally from the community. That work of witnessing and supporting birth is ancient and powerful. It will go on and continue to be important.

I am just starting in my doula journey, and a lot of the reason for that is that I really want to help new parents see themselves within this transition. I feel so much about needing to celebrate new parents and the milestones they go through, the things that they learn, and the things that they achieve. I want to offer a steady presence in the room. In the birth room, parents can feel themselves pulled here and there by labor. Labor is really powerful, and it kind of tugs you back and forth. I want to be an anchor for new parents.

How can we make birth a little more gentle in America? That’s an important question to me. And something that I think I’m bringing into this work with a lot of thought.