Wonderfully Made Births

Changing childbirth, one woman at a time.

Archive for Lynchburg

It Takes a Doula to Raise a Website

I think I need a doula.  I am in labor with this website, see?  The official “Wonderfully Made Births” website, for my doula business.  I’ve neglected doing it for far too long, and am feeling the push to make myself accessible via the web.  So I bought my domain name, I bought hosting, and now?  Now I’m buying a ticket straight to crazyville.

Change is hard.  Every decision made to do something necessarily means some things are not done.  If you choose the robin’s egg blue, you can’t have the intense green and teal.  If you go with the four column layout, you don’t have the gorgeous header image.

Actually, I don’t know what I’m talking about, for the most part.  Except the part about change.  Pointing ourselves in a focused direction, as in birth, means we must push other things out of our minds, or even out of our lives.  It takes mindfulness and determination, and a whole lot of energy.  Sometimes, the scene is orchestrated for us just so:  someone dims the lights, scents the room with lavender, and gives us little baby sips of our favorite mango nectar over perfectly crushed ice.  Other times, we rush in, our least favorite doctor is on call, the aquadoula is broken, and we are in the room without telemetry.  Somehow, this baby must get born no matter the circumstances.

And somehow, this baby always does.

So I will plug along on this new baby, and continue to try to grow my business.  I hate to even think of it as a business, because I love what I do so much.  It doesn’t usually feel like work.  Well, okay.  Maybe sometimes, usually after the 20 hour mark.  And I sure wish I had someone whispering in my ear, “You can do it!”

Anyway, coming soon, you will be able to visit Wonderfully Made Births and see who I am, what I do, peruse some adorable baby pictures and get access to evidence-based pregnancy and childbirth information.

I will post a calender of events including a welcome tea that will serve as an introduction to me and a couple of other area doulas that are joining forces with me (using our powers only for good, I assure you).  I will keep everyone in touch with birth related events and educational opportunities in our area, and always, always, offer you the best information I can find.

I welcome questions, comments, or any kind of contact.  Okay, well – maybe not any kind.

Whew.  Is there a doula in the house?



I sat in the comfy chair at Starbucks, reserving the other one for the pregnant woman I was to meet along with her boyfriend.  I knew he was a business owner, so when I saw an obviously due-pretty-soon woman walk in beside a pierced, North Face-wearing man, I thought: that’s not them.  She looked model-thin, wore high-heeled boots.  She looked pretty, delicate – I couldn’t see that couple wanting to hire me, a doula.

So when they came over expectantly and introduced themselves as my potential clients, I was ashamed.

Often when I meet with a client for the first time, I form an impression, born of experience and an understanding that not everyone has the same view of childbirth.  At some point during our relationship, I realize that this person will likely be induced, this one will end up with an epidural, that this one is too scared or too tired to have an easy time of it.  I am generally right.  And I don’t hold judgements about those decisions.  It’s not my job.

My job is to be supplier of information, supporter of informed decision making.  I had my births, now it’s their turn.  I take these decisions seriously, and try to ensure that my clients have access to all the information they need.  But I cannot make the choices for them.

But I see, now, that sometimes I will be surprised.  This beautiful, put-together woman in the high-heeled boots had the most amazing labor.  There are times when all outward signs tell you nothing.  When there is nothing but intuition telling you that this is really labor, this is transition, this is time to push.  She was absolutely quiet during her contractions.  She withdrew into herself, grew serious and focused.  Between, she chatted and laughed like the rest of us.  I kept thinking, if she wasn’t dilating they would give her pitocin because this couldn’t be active labor.  But she was six centimeters dilated!

Then, during one contraction, tears began falling down her face in a steady stream.  She didn’t sob, and it didn’t seem like a reaction to pain.  Instead, it seemed laden with emotion, and I wondered if it might be transition.  Then just as suddenly, she was ready to push.

She worked hard during pushing, and leaned heavily on her partner, but she still shone through and was amazingly strong and fearless.

I am constantly amazed by the power of this rite, the strength we are able to find within ourselves even when exhausted and unsure.  And I am contrite in the face of my wrongness, my judgement about what kind of person won’t succumb to fear.  And I am grateful for the lessons.