World Doula Week 2023

In line with World Doula Week, I felt called to share a bit about what’s been coming up for me, what being a doula/birthworker means to me.

Birthwork is dynamic and if I’m honest, this year’s acknowledgement brought mixed feelings with it. Not because my love for being in this role has lessened, but more because of what it is to be a doula in the current reproductive rights climate.

There are so may ideas about what being a doula means, and a lot of different ways to be one. One of the beautiful aspects of this work is how varied it can be. There is no space for the mentality of being “better” or “the best” doula in your community because birth is so varied that no one person can possibly be the “right fit” for every family, leaving an infinite number of ways to authentically embody your own doula-identity.

One of the shadows is how over-glorified it can be. This work is absolutely beautiful, and it can also be heartbreakingly infuriating.  Doulas aren’t quick fixes to ensure a “good birth experience,” and at the same time we/they can make a world of difference. This work is more than holding babies, handing a birth plan to providers, or hip-squeezes. It’s diving deep into the love and the trauma of the individual families worked with.  It’s using our voices now to make the change necessary for conversations to be different in the future.

Not all ceremonies are gentle or sparkly. IYKYK.

Acknowledging “World Doula Week” won’t always facilitate the space holding for the dialogue needed around mental/physical/emotional/spiritual health of these community care workers. It doesn’t bring accountability to the providers/staff for their harmful rhetoric, or erase the bureaucratic fatigue we feel from advocating for basic human rights again and again in a dysfunctional system. Yet, these conversations have been and are so necessary. Every day, every week, every year.   

What’s been (re)affirmed for me this week is that despite the hot mess of our current attacks on bodily autonomy, hierarchal perinatal care, and obstetric violence- I am in. I know who I am, I know what my relationship to birthwork is, and why I am here. I am here for the oxytocin and the meconium. The hardest parts have inspired me to show up even more than the “ideal” circumstances have.  This is not always “feel good” work, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Discomfort is inevitable and necessary, just as in birth.

And just as in birth, every hard part is worth it for the celebration of holding the sacred space of birth and postpartum. The connection, love and healing that is shared with the families I have the honor of witnessing is a blessing and an ancestral memory. It’s not something that I can quantify- only something my heart, my essence can qualify. It’s nourishment and purpose. It brings a component of celebration to my life that nothing else can fulfill. 

Any baby holding is always a bonus, though.

For me, Birthwork is a way of Life. It’s a reclamation of ancestral connection, bodily autonomy & the wisdom of our wombs . . . and of course so much more. It can never fit into a box, regulatory standard or agencies.

It’s not my job, it’s a prayer I live each and every day. It’s a part of who I am as a person, as a woman.

Birthwork is Heart-work.

Birthwork is Care-work.

Birthwork is our Birth-right.

Birthwork is Ceremony.

Birthwork is not solitary work, but community work. May we build strong community to be strong for our communities.

To my peers: I see you. You’re important. Take Care. We are needed.

To my mentors/teachers: Thank you. May the prayers I send up for you reach you in a good way.

To the families, mothers, birthers I’ve supported: Thank you for trusting me. You are always on my alter.

I’m so grateful to have received the calling.

In Community,

Michela