Day 6: Disappointment with My Doula

I am a lover of doulas and what they do for families. We need to hear how we are doing, how we are being perceived, if we ever want to improve! When we get those bits of negative feedback, it is an opportunity for us to change and be better, not shrink and  get resentful. We are all just people, trying to do the best we can. Communication is an important piece of the doula-client relationship -- the more we can communicate, before and during a birth, the better satisfied we can all be.

---

I hate to be Debbie Downer, that is not in my heart at all. I hired a doula for what I thought were realistic reasons. Like so many others, I read the statistics:  shorter labors, lower uses of epidurals, happier feelings after the birth; those were the ones that stuck in my mind. I just didn't expect things to go the way they did, and when they went, they went fast. I felt like my doula went along with that, while I was left behind feeling alone.

I know one admirable quality of any doula worth her salt is good working relationships with the nurses and doctors at the place of birth. I was impressed by the stories I heard from my doula, the goings out to lunch with nurses, the sittings next to doctors at conferences. I will admit, it made me feel like she integrated well into the hospital process. What I didn't expect was that she might need to maintain that balance. When push came to shove in my situation, I did not feel she was with me, on my side. I felt like she was on their side, and it was her job to get me to feel good about coming to their decisions and preferences. 

In a way, this was the beginning of the isolation. I had heard hospital doulas who are provided by the hospital or volunteer/work for the hospital sometimes have a hard time being neutral. I did not worry about this, because my doula was independent and nonaffiliated with the hospital. She did have a family member who was high ranking on the infrastructure of the hospital board, but again I saw this as a bonus, not a deficit. In reality, I think it aligned her with the hospital's way of doing things. It made it seem like her job was to help me buckle to that agenda in a less threatening way than if it came from a staff member.

I had a complication when it came time to push. Suddenly I was being rolled over, yelled at urgently, and told to push, even without a contraction. Extra people came rushing into the room. I was hearing all kinds of instructions at once. I closed my eyes and tried to do what they told me. My husband was no where to be seen or felt. My doula was also lost in the haze. I had no clue what was happening. I needed the tiniest bit of an explanation. The one person I would have expected this from was not there. My doula.

After the baby came out there was an audible sigh of relief. She was taken to a flat table to be given air and make sure she was breathing like she should. I felt the smallest touch from my husband's hand, and I wanted to gobble it up and have it take me away. He was scared too. We watched as our baby was being poked and prodded, mask on her face, lights flashing and alarms beeping. I looked for my doula and she was talking to the nurse about how frightening that was, and how she was sorry the nurse had to get up on the stool to help move me because the nurse was pregnant.

I could have used the emotional support my doula was giving my nurse.

It took a while before anyone explained what happened. It took even longer before our baby was brought to us. I felt pretty insignificant. I felt alone and afraid. Soon after the bustle in my room went down and I was considered recovered, my doula announced she needed to go move her car before her meter ran out. She said she would be right back. 

"That's ok. I think we are ok now." She looked at me with a puzzled expression. "But the baby isn't back from the nursery. Do you want me to wait and see if we can get you nursing?" I let her know I was really tired, and I would ask for help from the staff if we needed it. She came over, gave me a hug, and said, "Thanks for having me as your doula." 

Really I just felt sad. I felt let down. I wanted more mothering, and I got what seemed like a bubble gum teenager who was only with me until the cooler kids came (her friends at the hospital). I am not writing off doulas forever. I still can't deny those statistics. But next time, I am going to ask different questions, and remember to be impressed by different answers. 

---

Lindsey is a high school math teacher and new resident to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Her husband, daughter, and  Shar-Pei, Bluto, are expecting the arrival of a new baby around Thanksgiving. She is just starting to reach out to potential doulas.