Why I Had To Quit Being A Birth Doula

By Annemarie Plenert

M y first birth was incredibly difficult. I went in for an induction at two weeks past my due date and waited in triage for the first 14 hours because the nurse couldn’t seem to find me a bed; then I waited another 12 hours for the Pitocin to start working. The pain rocketed off the charts and I needed an epidural. One of the nurses really wanted me to have a Cesarean because my water had broken long ago. When the time came, I pushed for two hours on my back, birthed my daughter, then endured 45 minutes of being stitched back together.

My baby girl was 11 pounds, 9 ounces. Without my doula, I would have felt alone and powerless. My husband did his best to help me, but he was as overwhelmed as I was. My doula was the one who sat by my bed and told me it was okay to cry about the epidural, it was okay to cry because I was so tired. She helped me feel better about the fact that everything went the opposite of the way I wanted.

Through all the pain, the overwhelming emotion, the self-doubt, I remember listening to the women around me — including one who screamed for drugs while pushing her baby out. The nurse was trying to calm her down and prep her for delivery at the same time. I desperately wanted to cross the hall and hold her hand; to let her know she wasn’t alone, either. That was the moment I knew I…