In my first post I stated there there were three main reasons for why I chose to become a doula. Reason #1 is my eldest, Ernesto. All my life I knew that I wanted to be a wife and mother (among other things). I had these grand idea of how wonderful being pregnant would be, and how easy. HA! Ernesto was actually a pretty great pregnancy. I did have morning sickness throughout the pregnancy, but it was manageable, and it wasn’t every day. I was also able to remain active up until a week before I delivered. Despite my pregnancy being completely ideal, and without complication, it was difficult for me. I wasn’t prepared for what it was like to give up control of my body and not be able to do things I would normally do. (I’m very petite at 5’3/4” and so when I’m pregnant I almost immediately begin to show, because there is no where for the babies to go, but out. That made it difficult for me to move, etc.)

I did not have a doula with Ernesto, and in fact I didn’t even know what a doula was until recently. I really wish that I had, though, because my labor did NOT go as expected or hoped. On July 3rd, 2008 I noticed that the baby was pushing up against my belly, a lot, and consistently throughout the day. It was so consistent that I wasn’t sure it was him. So I turned to google and looked up what contractions felt like, because this was my first baby and I had no idea what to expect. And honestly, I expected contractions to hurt, and what I felt didn’t. Turns out, that I was indeed having contractions, and that I had been having them for about a week. So I texted my husband so he would know, but told him not to worry, because it wasn’t time yet. He finished his work day, and I spent the day doing whatever it was that I would normally do. Eventually he made it home and the contractions began to come more frequently. Once the contractions were about 5 minutes apart we decided to head over to the hospital. The hospital was down the street so we walked. While walking, I called my mom to tell her that what was happening. As you can see, all of this was VERY mild as far as pain goes. (Had I had a doula I would have been told about the various ways and places to go through labor, but I didn’t. So I naturally assumed that a hospital would be the safest and best option. But with the type of pregnancy I had, a birth center, or even a home birth, would have been a fantastic option. Especially since I planned to have a natural birth.)

Once we arrived at the hospital, they decided to monitor me for about three hours to make sure I was in active labor. The contractions continued, and they admitted me into labor and delivery. As SOON, as they did that, my contractions stopped. (Had I had a doula, I would have known that this would have been a good time to tell them I wanted to go home. But I didn’t have one, so I ended up staying.) At this point they start plugging me into all the machines, etc. They struggled to find my veins and I was poked multiple times.

All the cotton is the various places they tried to insert IVs. Eventually it went into my hand.

Several hours passed and my labor wasn’t really progressing, so they TOLD me, they didn’t ask, that they were going to give me pitocin. They explained that pitocin would help further my labor along. (With the help of a doula I would have known the pros and cons, and that I could have refused it.) They gave me dose #1. My pain level IMMEDIATELY jumped up. BUT my labor wasn’t progressing still. So, they gave me dose #2. And once again, the pain jumped, but the labor didn’t. At this point I was at about a 7 in pain, and only a few centimeters dialated. Contractions were coming more frequently, but they weren’t actually doing their job. SO, they gave me dose #3. Again my pain jumped, and at this point I didn’t feel like I could continue with a natural birth, because at this point I was still doing this without any form of pain management. So I tell them I want an epidural, because I can hardly stand the pain, it’s been over 18 hours, and there was minimal progression. They tell me ok, BUT it’s now July 4th, and everyone is on vacation, so now I have to wait. (And because of the holiday my doctor wasn’t even present, I ended up with another doctor, who’s name I still don’t know to this day.) They tell me that they can give me fentanyl. They explain that it won’t really ease the pain, but will help me relax or something. At this point I’m in so much pain, I say ok. (A doula would have also informed about the effects on the baby, and explained in more detail what fentanyl does.) Now I have pain level a million, and I’m being given fentanyl. So when the contractions hit I’m wide awake and in excruciating pain, and when they stop I’m drowsy. Now I’m out of it and getting delirious. 20+ hours in. At some point they check me and I’m 9.5cm dialated and they can finally give me the epidural, which I refuse at this point, because there’s no point anymore since I’ll be pushing soon. Eventually we get to the pushing, and I’ve been in pain for over 24 hours and in the middle of it, I clamp my legs shut and say I’m not going to do it anymore. HA! Eventually I calm back down, and get through it. And 27 hours after we started, reason #1 is born and I’ve never been so relieved to be done with something in my life.

I didn’t have a doula, but I did have my husband by my side and his aunt, who showed up when the pushing started, and actually performed as a doula would. Originally I didn’t want anyone, but my husband present, but I was very grateful she showed up. Labor is something you can’t ever imagine, and it’s never like what you expect. Having a doula to help prepare beforehand, and then support you during labor and delivery allows you have someone you trust and who is also knowledgeable as to what to expect. Doulas are able to empower you with knowledge and information. And had I had one, this story would have been very different.

Reason #1: Ernesto